Growth SpurtMonth 4A
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Friday as promised, I went out with Danielle, another musical date. We dropped into a jam session to listen to a group of high-school students who'd formed a band. I didn't like the music they made. It was too loud and raucous; to my ears, the sounds clashed rather than harmonized. Danielle raved about them. I kept my opinion to myself. I knew less about music than I did about art.
As usual after a date, Danielle invited me in and took me to her room. She put on a CD; we stripped and she pulled me into her bed with her. Although being naked in her bed was normal after a date, I sensed something was different. Maybe it was the way she was responding, or maybe it was my mood. I wasn't sure I wanted to be with her.
Then I discovered what was different, and I made the discovery with my tongue. Danielle's hymen was no longer intact! Someone had gotten to her before me! Evan Garrison? New Year's Eve? Did Danielle sip too much wine? Did she become careless? No, I decided. Danielle wouldn't be careless, would never lose control. What happened took place because Danielle wanted it to happen.
Unaccountably, I felt cheated. I also wouldn't allow her to put me off any longer. I moved my face from between her legs, and squirmed up over her until my shaft nestled in her crease. I kissed her, and she returned the kiss with passion.
"Do I need protection?" I asked.
Her body stiffened beneath me, but only briefly. "No," she said. "I've been on the pill for over two years."
"Put it in," I ordered.
She didn't argue, didn't try to put me off. She reached between us and grasped my hard-on. I held my body off of hers far enough to give her room to do as I asked, and she expertly waved my cock head around her vulva, wetting the crown, and then seating it firmly at the entrance to her vagina.
I threw my hips at her, but only about three inches moved inside her. Tight!
She groaned, but not in pain, and ratcheted her hips upward, taking another two inches. "Fuck! You're big!" She hissed. "All of it, Paul. I've been dreaming about taking all of you inside me. Fuck me. Fuck me with that monster."
I reared back and sunk my length into her to the hilt.
"Yes!" she squealed.
Would her parents come running? I didn't care. I wouldn't stop if they crashed into the room. I'd been cheated and I intended to get what was due me.
Her glove felt like a vice, but it was sopping wet so it took me readily. I lengthened my thrusts and increased the pace.
Mrs. Jensen had told me how to fuck to retard my orgasm. "Don't clench, Paul," she'd say. "Wave your hips, but don't clench your perfect, little ass. Clenching will make you come."
As tight as Danielle was, I knew if I did any clenching that I'd come too soon, so I moved with a wave-like motion, my buttocks as ballast, not the force behind the thrusts. I had stamina. I could fuck for hours, even at the fast pace I'd chosen, as long as I didn't climax, and I wanted Danielle to know that she'd been well and truly fucked when I finished with her.
She climaxed quickly, which pleased me, and I slowed down to let her recover. When she started to move against me again, I slipped back to the full, quick waving motion that had produced her first orgasm.
What a cunt! So tight and grasping. And she didn't just lie there. She moved with me, fucked me back, gave as good as she got. Her words started naughty and quickly turned nasty, using dirty talk to tell what she liked and how she wanted it. She used her heels, her fingernails, even her teeth. She was a pussycat in heat, and I became the old tom, yowling, nipping her ripe full nipples, marking her breasts, her neck, clasping her perfect, little ass and pulling her to me as I buried my throbbing cock over and over again.
After her second climax, she started to tire, tried to slow me down, but I wouldn't let her. I kept after her, taking her arousal back up, taking her where I wanted her, and I started to clench, thrust into her with more force to encouraged my orgasm to build. Finally as she was climaxing the third time, I bellowed and squirted my semen into her.
I collapsed and rolled to her side. Our breathing was heavy, especially Danielle's. She gasped for breath, and I could feel her pulse throb alarmingly fast in the artery in her neck as we cuddled. She was as limp as boiled spinach.
"Jesus, Paul! You damned near fucked me to death!" she gushed when she could speak again. She giggled. "I loved it! Whew!"
She oohed and aawed and praised me, and when she could move again, she went down on me, soon gobbling up my semen with her mouth, telling me there was no way she'd let me fuck her again, not that night, not the way I fucked.
By Danielle's own words, she wasn't serious about Evan or me. She was having some uncomplicated fun with us. When she'd do anything but fuck, she was fun, an adorable, stunningly beautiful girl, a cuddly bunny with morals. She was still adorable, I guess, but I no longer adored her. She'd become amoral. She'd fucked Evan, so she felt she owed me a fuck, too. Fair's fair after all. She'd put us both off, so when she decided to start fucking, she'd fuck us both, and she'd fuck us both again and again.
Her dainty squeals, naughty and nasty words, undulating hips, luscious oily membranes grabbing and releasing, were no less skilled than my ability to damn near fuck her to death. I despised that part of myself that was like her. Would she, like me, become a victim of her own illusions?
Thirty-FourI discovered I couldn't not run. Saturday morning while it was still dark, I moved out onto the street and started to pound the pavement. Jenny girl must have been watching for me because I soon heard her huffing behind me, trying to catch up. I slowed down, happy to have her running by my side.
We ran in silence for about a mile. Jenny spoke first. "Are you goin' to run in the Lost Dutchman 10K on the eighteenth?"
"That was our plan."
"Then you'd better start trainin' for it. I'll help."
"All right."
"The Lost Dutchman 10K is a road race, so you should train runnin' roads, not a track. It's an out and back, using the last three plus miles of the marathon course. So the easy-pace, 12-mile run you should do this mornin' should be out and back, too. We'll use your rough calculation of 8 blocks to the mile. Run 48 blocks out, turn around and run back. You haven't run for a while, so don't push yourself too hard. When I drop off, I'll go back and get the Jetta and follow along with ya in case ya can't make the twelve miles."
I couldn't believe the simple joy of merely seeing her and hearing her voice gave me.
"Thanks for being a friend, Jenny girl."
She grinned broadly. "I'll always be your friend, buddy boy. Always."
She stayed with me for 24 blocks, dropped off and returned on a bicycle. I laughed. "If I don't make it, how will you help me get home? Throw me over the handle bars?"
"I'll just pedal back and get my car, silly. This way we can talk while you run. I wanted to talk to you about helping me. I wanna start runnin' in some official races, too. I think I can do the 3K, maybe the 5K later this year. Waddaya think?"
It was as simple as that. She waited for me to run, knew I had to run, and loped out to join me to put us right again. She'd help me train, and I'd help her train, and between running and Kung Fu, we'd be together everyday as friends, not lovers. I didn't want another lover and wasn't positive I wanted the ones I had.
Thirty-FiveSunday afternoon, I met Eve at her house — an assignation, not a date. Fair's fair after all. I'd fucked Danielle so I should fuck Eve. Yeah, right.
Eve had set up the rendezvous. She'd called and told me that her parents would be out of the house and asked me if I could drop by. I didn't want to say yes, but I did. I didn't have the courage to say no.
I found it curious that I'd unconsciously followed my father's advice. I'd stayed calm, and the girls had worked everything out. Danielle had asked me if we were still on for Friday night. I said yes, and we did more than everything but fuck. We fucked. I ran out of my house early Saturday morning, and Jenny loped up beside me, and it was as if the traumatic day last year never happened. Then Eve called and lured me to her bed. Yep, I'd let the girls work it out. Why wasn't I happy with the results? I could continue to fuck Eve. I could now fuck Danielle, and Jenny girl was my friend and running partner again. What more could I ask for? I knew why I wasn't happy. I wasn't happy with myself.
Eve met me at the door naked, not even a wrap, and she was a gorgeous sight, glossy and sleek, soft curves and turgid nipples. Turgid from the brisk air striking them when she opened the door, or from anticipation? The source didn't matter. They looked delicious, so I tasted them.
With a heartfelt moan, she wrapped all her soft curves around me, her fingers sliding sensuously through my hair with love shining in her dark, dark eyes, not passionate orbs, but contended ones, relieved to be with me again. She wanted to give, and I wanted to take.
I was angry, but the anger was buried deep, hardly noticeable, I figured, except to myself, but Eve was empathic, at least with me, probably because she felt so strongly about me.
She laid her face on a pillow and raised her incredible rump, wriggling tight, teenaged globes, still narrow and enticing. A model's ass she offered, and I plunged my length into her looseness, wormed beyond the cervical bump into the cavernous space beyond.
So different than Danielle's tight glove, I thought. Loose, not tight, but more loving somehow, a caring cunt, submissive, and her submissiveness pissed me off. She should be railing at me, demanding the return of her self-respect, demanding that I stop fucking Danielle. Instead, she presented her cunt from the rear for me to use as I wanted, and I suddenly wanted what I could see and had yet to experience.
"I want your ass," I hissed as I shoved my cock fully inside her.
Her body stiffened for a split-second before it signaled obeisance.
"Then take it, lover," she said into the pillow. "It's yours to take."
"No!" I shouted. "Your ass is yours, not mine. I want to use it, not own it."
"Then use it, fuck it. Fuck my ass. I want you to fuck it."
I gave her an out. "I might hurt you."
She groaned with passion and reached back between her legs to fondle her genital jewelry. "Do it! Shove your monster into my little ass, Paul. It's never been fucked. I want to give it to you, a gift for you and only you. I don't care if it hurts."
Suddenly I understood. It was an epiphany. My darling submissive was also into pain. "You want me to hurt you, don't you?"
With a low, throaty moan, she whispered, "Yes, a little. Some."
My fingers had gathered her juices, spreading them over her sphincter, so I pushed a finger into her. Tight! Hot! Greasy! My cock lurched inside her pussy as her fingers manipulated her pierced clit.
I pulled my cock from her cunt and scooped up more juices as my shaft slipped between the cheeks of her rump without penetration. After slapping her juices where I wanted them, I aimed and pushed. I thought my cock would break in two before it finally popped inside.
She screamed, an expression of pain, but at the same time she climaxed. "More!" she entreated with a whimper as her orgasm rippled through her. "More."
My next thrust gave her almost all I had. She screamed again, but didn't retreat. She pushed back against me wanting more, so I gave her what she wanted.
Her little ass was like Danielle's cunt, tight going in and just as tight coming back out. I'd hurt her, I knew, but she seemed to revel in the pain. The genital piercing made more sense now. Did she climax when her clitoral hood was pierced? Did her boyfriend at the time accompany her for the piercing? Did he avidly watch as another man disfigured a beautiful, sensitive pussy?
I wanted to take the boyfriend's face and beat it into the ground, punish him, turn his face into mush. But he wasn't present, so I punished Eve for letting him mistreat her. I fucked her ass, fucked it hard and fast, waving not clenching. I didn't want to come to soon. I wanted this ass fuck to last a long, long time.
The pain I'd given her must have diminished because her moans became less passionate. She wanted pain, so I gave her some. I slapped her ass, slapped it hard enough to leave a handprint.
"Yes!" she squealed.
I slapped the other cheek and plunged my length fully inside her. The thrust was so powerful she slid up on the bed. I pounded her with my thrusts and continued to spank her, and she slid upwards until her head bumped the headboard. Then I scrambled back, pulling completed out of her, pulling her back with me, and then plunged into her again — and again.
Her fingers were racing over her clit, and her little ass clenched around my cock as another climax ripped through her. I reared back, threw myself at her and spurted inside her as I roared out my release.
Afterwards, she bathed my cock with a warm, damp cloth, kissing it with adoration and telling me I could fuck her little ass any time I wanted it. I felt detached. I'd used a pretty, compliant girl to expel my anger, and she'd loved every second of my nearly violent abuse. Unconsciously, I'd given her what she wanted, and she seemed to love me all the more for it.
My anger reappeared and hardened as I drove toward my home. I hated what I was becoming, despised myself for being weak, for using a pretty girl, hurting her physically and scarring her psyche even more. Claire was a saint compared to me.
Thirty-SixI won the Lost Dutchman 10K, running the race in 32 minutes 12 seconds. I wanted Jenny girl to enter the 2-mile family fun/run walk, but because the 2-mile started only 5 minutes after the 10K she refused, telling me she'd be there for me for the entire 10K race.
"Besides," she told me, "I've decided I can do a 5K, so I registered to run the AAR Heart to Heart 5K on the first of February. That gives us some time for trainin'."
Her decision pleased me. She'd been training for the 3K, but we immediately kicked up her training regimen so she could compete in a 5K race. She rose to the task with all-out effort, which didn't surprise me.
Her first easy-pace 6-mile run durned near killed her (Jenny's words), and she detested the fartlek as much as I did. Still, Jenny girl is nothing if not determined and persistent, so she accepted the pain and tried to move through it, succeeding for the most part.
The first 5K we timed for her ended up at 21 minutes 32 seconds, a respectable time for a woman's 5K. She vowed to achieve a new personal best each time she ran the distance, hoping to break into the 20-minute mark during her first official race.
Eve and Danielle showed up independently to watch me race the Lost Dutchman 10K course. They both gave me congratulatory hugs and kisses after the race, effectively ignoring each other. Jenny girl ignored neither of them, but accepted them without verbal rancor or any form of retribution against them or me.
Danielle didn't leave immediately following the race, principally because she'd dragged Evan Garrison along with her, which I considered inappropriate and mean-spirited, mean-spirited towards Evan, not me. I'd reached a point where Danielle's behavior didn't affect me all that much.
The baseball hero glared at me, decidedly unhappy with the situation, probably because I'd won the race, which put me if not at Evan's level of athletic expertise, then close to it. He now had to consider me a serious contender for Danielle's adulation, and he was at a disadvantage because he wouldn't shine until baseball season got underway. Was he my equal or better in the sack? Maybe. I had no way of knowing, but I'd be lying if I said his sexual prowess didn't matter to me.
Eve clung to me again, which Jenny barely tolerated. She let Eve know in no uncertain terms when it would be inappropriate of Eve to be hanging onto my arm, like the award ceremony or during the massage after the run.
Jenny girl also dragged Eve away from me when I was approached by a sport's writer for the Arizona Republic Gazette. My second place finish at the Desert Classic last month and my win that day had caught her attention. Yes, the sport's writer was a female, an attractive one, too. She flirted outrageously, which I ate up until I figured out flirting with male athletes was her method to disarm them so they'd say something newsworthy.
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