Mornings Are For Blowjobs
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Mornings On HorsebackChapter 3 free porn video
"Hi, Mom!" I smiled and wanted to run right past her, upstairs and into the bathroom.
"Hey Steph ... Where's my kiss?" She gave me a mock frown and I had no choice.
Mom always got a hug and a kiss when I came from school, so did my dad, except I usually didn't see him until dinner time. Usually though I could get cleaned up first, but not always, and it felt a little strange hugging my mom and kissing her cheek while Chris' warm sperm ran down my thighs.
"Why are you so warm?" Mom pressed a cool hand to my forehead. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Cheerleading went sorta long today." I wrinkled my nose. "I need a bath too."
"Yes, you do." Mom nodded. "You smell..."
She didn't finish and I giggled, knowing exactly what I smelled like but seriously hoping my mom would think it was just an extra good workout at cheerleading practice. I wouldn't say my parents were naïve, and they certainly weren't stupid, but never underestimate the willingness of parents to believe what they want to. And since I was such a good girl in every other conceivable way, it was pretty hard for them to make the occasional broad leap to the conclusion that I was having sex on my way home from school.
But I'd have to cool it, I told myself seriously, cause I wasn't gonna get busted. No way! I loved sex, for sure, maybe I even needed it, since it felt that way sometimes, but I could do without it too. Maybe. At least right after school. Or more likely I'd have to start carrying some bottled water and some paper towels with me every day.
"What's so funny?" Mom smiled and she started making me a sandwich.
"Huh? Oh, nothing. Hey! Guess what!"
"What?"
"Ms. Hayden asked Chris if he wanted to be on the cheerleading squad, isn't that cool?" I was so excited that I had to share that.
"Wow." Mom smiled over her shoulder at me. "That's pretty neat. Was he a cheerleader before, at his old school?"
"No, uh-uh, but he'd be really good at it, don't you think?"
"He's cute enough." My mom cut my sandwich in half. "Sit down there and eat now."
"I need a bath..."
"Later, eat first." Mom was big on eating, obviously and it was a wonder I didn't weigh three hundred pounds. "You need milk too, lots of calcium."
"Okay ... Okay..." I sighed, sitting down while mom got me a glass of milk. I did feel sort of hungry.
"So is that why Chris was giving you a ride home again?" Mom asked me.
"Sort of." I shrugged.
"Why else?" Mom knew what sort of meant, it was Steph Speak for no, without saying no. My dad would let it rest, but not my mom.
"Mom..." I said after a few seconds of thoughtful chewing. "Do you think it would be okay if I had two boyfriends?"
"Two?" My mom stared at me, deciphering what I was saying. "You mean two real boyfriends, or one boyfriend and one friend who happens to be a boy?"
"Uh ... Two real ones." I drank half my milk just to please her.
"I could barely handle one when I was your age." Mom laughed. "Why on earth would you want two?"
"Well, I like Mark a lot, you know that." I avoided the love word around my parents like the plague.
"Uh-huh."
"And now Chris, oh Mom, I like both of them!" I couldn't help but smile. "They're so different and cool and ... Yeah..."
"Yeah." My mom shook her head and she was making fun of me, I thought.
"I'm serious." I pouted a little. "They both like me too, and they like each other. That's the best part."
"I don't think they're going to like each other that much, Steph."
"You saw them last night, Mark and Chris, they get along great," I insisted. "I already told Mark about Chris, how I like him and stuff. And Chris knows I have a boyfriend already, so..."
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Mom sighed. "Boys say one thing when they're with you, but inside..."
"No, we really talk a lot Mom, me and Mark. He knows everything," I told her.
"Hmmmm..." It seemed kind of obvious my mom didn't believe me.
"Well, look." I turned in my chair to face her, keeping my legs crossed. "Just hypothetically then, if Mark and Chris were okay with it, do you think it would be okay for me to go out with both of them?"
"Hypothetically?" Mom raised her eyebrows. "Sure, yeah ... Realistically, no. You're sixteen. You don't need two boyfriends."
"Mom!" I stared at her.
"Your father would have a fit, you know that, Steph."
"Not if you're okay with it," I said. "If you say it's okay then Daddy won't say no."
"That's what you think." My mom laughed. "I can talk him into some of the clothes you like..."
"My clothes?"
" ... Letting you wear makeup..."
"Makeup? Mom!"
" ... I can even get him to let you go to Clearview once in awhile..."
"Clearview..."
" ... But, Steph, when it comes to his only daughter having boyfriends, that's your dad's business." She nodded. "Not mine."
"You're okay with it though." I had to be persistent. "Right?"
"Okay with you having two boyfriends?"
"Yeah." I had to get an answer from her, and a yes answer at that. Later I could work on my dad.
"I..." My mom gave me an exasperated sigh. " ... Yeah, sure," she nodded. "But when it doesn't work, you just remember this conversation."
"I'll never forget it, Mom." I giggled and she even smiled then.
"Finish your sandwich now. You're going out tonight?"
"Yeah." I grinned. "It's Friday, we're going to see a movie."
"Uh ... Which one?"
"I don't know yet." I shrugged. "We're not sure what movie is playing."
"No." Mom giggled. "Which boyfriend?"
"Oh." I laughed. "Uh, both of them."
"Really?" My mom hadn't expected that.
"Yeah, Mark is gonna pick me up and then we're going to go get Chris."
"I see." Mom cleared her throat. "So you're serious about this."
"Mom!" I rolled my eyes. "What did you think we were talking about?"
"I know, I just..."
She shrugged and it was plain she had heard me, but didn't really believe me. Or more likely she thought I was going to date them one at a time, which would make sense, I supposed.
"I told you Mark and Chris are like best friends now."
"Stephanie, um ... You remember that talk we had last year, when we let you start dating?"
"Oh, Mom..." I sighed. "Not the birds and the bees again!"
"Shush ... Are you ... You're being careful, right?" Mom looked at me hard, even though she might have been a little embarrassed.
"I'm not letting them do anything, Mom." I had my legs crossed, so my fib didn't really count.
"I know how teenage boys can be." My mom was being ultra serious. "You have to respect yourself. Don't let them talk you into anything or..."
"Or out of anything?" I giggled.
"Steph..."
"I'm kidding Mom, jeeze." I shook my head. "Mark is really good, he doesn't try to do anything, I swear."
"I know, he's a good boy. We like him a lot, but..."
"And Chris, well you met him already." I smiled. "He's so sweet, he'd never do anything, like force me or anything."
"I know ... I didn't say he would, but..."
"They're both so nice, Mom," I promised her. "And I already told Mark I wasn't going to do anything. I'm not ready for all that stuff."
"You told him that?"
"Uh-huh," I nodded. "I'll tell Chris too. We have a lot of fun just hanging out. I think if we tried to do anything ... You know ... Sex stuff? It would just ruin it. You know?"
I was hitting all the right buttons, one after the other, and it might seem sort of evil, in a way. Lying to my own mom like that, especially since Chris' virginity was still warm inside my womb, but hey ... I was sixteen years old and a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Otherwise I'd never have any fun!
"You're such a good girl," Mom smiled. "So grown up already."
"Yeah," I nodded happily.
She gave me a hug as I sat there. "But not that grown up!" She kissed my cheek.
"I know, Mom." I smiled modestly.
I felt pretty good. Partly because I'd had such a nice talk with my mom. She really was a pretty good one, I wouldn't trade her for anything. But also because I was soaking in the bathtub, and it was a nice big one too. One of those old Victorian tubs, deep and wide and long enough so I could lay down in it if I wanted. It even had claw feet, which was cool.
My dad always complained because filling it used up all the hot water. I mean it was a big bath tub! He mostly took a shower, me too, but baths were always great after a long hard day, especially if I wanted to get really clean, and I did. I put in a bunch of scented bath beads too. They were actually my mom's, but she didn't mind if I used them too, and they smelled like strawberries.
And I don't know what it is about hot water and strawberries, but every time I got in the tub like that, I got really horny. Well, I was horny a lot anyway, but usually only when I was around Mark, or Chris now, otherwise I didn't really think about sex very much.
Like I knew some girls I went to school with masturbated all the time. They'd talk about it, not a lot, but sometimes. Kelly and Brittany? They did it, in fact they talked about it the most, although that wasn't all the time or anything. Just once in awhile, in the locker room maybe after practice, one of them would say something about it. Kelly mostly, because she had a boyfriend like we all did, but they never had sex. So she'd talk about Jilling off after a date with him.
That would get Brittany started, like asking how Kelly liked to do it and comparing notes or something. It was a little funny actually, and sometimes the rest of us gave them a hard time about it, but just in fun. All the girls did it and the times I did it were like now, in my bath. I just didn't know exactly why. I got all the sex I could ever want, but for some reason...
The porcelain tub was curved perfectly for my back, and warmed by the water, but still a little cool as I leaned against it. I closed my eyes, up to my chin in hot water, my long black hair floating around me, and I moved my hands slow. That was the best part for me, or the best way to start anyway. Just moving my hands slowly over my tummy at first, dragging my fingernails over my skin.
My tummy was smooth and flat and soft. I have a great little tummy and it would get a little hollow curve to it, not much, but a little bit and my waist was narrow anyway. Not even twenty inches, more like 18 maybe. Every pair of pants I owned was loose, they just didn't come with long enough legs and wide enough hips to still fit my little waist. Skirts were better with their elastic waistbands, plus I could buy long skirts for like 13 year olds, and they'd be like mini-skirts for me. That was always cool, except my dad wasn't big on that.
Mom did control my wardrobe though, like she'd mentioned during our little talk, and if it was okay with her, my dad would grumble, but not argue about it.
And that's the kind of stuff I like to think about when I'm touching myself in my bathtub. Not sexy stuff, not thinking about Mark or Chris. I thought about me mostly, my mind wandering here and there, no place in particular, like a strange daydream about nothing at all. It really was just relaxing and making love to myself in that sense, which is what masturbation is supposed to be, in my opinion.
I think some people didn't know that, like Kelly, she never felt good afterwards. Not good about herself I mean, her body probably felt great afterwards. But that wasn't the point of it, at least not for me. I wanted to feel good about being me after I was done. I liked myself just fine too, so maybe I'd gotten lucky that way, and I enjoyed making love to myself.
So I'd play with my tummy first and then come up with my fingers, feeling my hard ribs under my soft skin, maybe wishing I had a little baby fat there, but they only got noticeable when I stretched anyway. And I'd tease myself, because by now my nipples were getting hard. Like dark cherries all hot and cold, pointing out from my ripe full boobs. I'd trace my fingers around my breasts, around the bottoms and sides, around the tops so that my fingers would meet at the soft valley between them. And down, I'd move my hands down, spiraling inward slowly, around and around until I found my nipples at last.
My aching nipples, hard and rubbery, not too long, but enough to play with, enough to pinch and flick and rub with my thumbs. They loved that, being rubbed and pressed down on so that they disappeared into my soft tits. And sometimes I'd press my palms against them, squeezing my tits with my fingers, moving my hands back and forth, rubbing my breasts together.
I loved my tits, how they were so firm I didn't need a bra, not for just everyday. My breasts were big handfuls and round with puffy nipples that pointed a little up as well as out, and I could walk around all day without a bra and no one would know, unless they saw my nipples. That was why I wore a bra, because good girls didn't show off their nipples. I played with my tits for ten minutes, lifting my body, letting myself float up so that my nipples would push out of the strawberry water into the cool air, and I'd smile and flick those little ruddy islands playfully.
And about the time I was enjoying that, my sex would be waking up, making me rub my thighs together, and I'd be telling my clit to be patient. I saved my pussy for last because that was where it felt really good. And after playing with my breasts, making my nipples burn and throb and ache so much that I had to pinch them hard just to make them feel good, then I'd push myself back down. I'd move my hands back to my tummy and around my hips and down my thighs.
I was teasing myself, avoiding my vulva completely and massaging my thighs and bending my knees. I'd massage my calves gently, squeezing the hard little muscles there behind my shins and down to my feet. I love my feet, I don't know why. I'm not ticklish either and rubbing my toes, squeezing my foot, and caressing my ankles, all of that just felt really good. I'd have my knees to my breasts almost, my toes out of the water and I'd giggle at them, wriggling my feet and seeing them painted pink like my fingernails.
I would grab my foot, the left one maybe, bringing it to my mouth. It was easier in my bedroom, but I could do it in the tub too. My skin squeaking a little as I shifted against the porcelain. I'd bring my foot to my mouth, not caring that it was wet with bathwater and perfumed strawberry bath beads. I'd take my toes in my mouth, holding my breath and kissing them, sucking them slowly, one at a time, or maybe two or three. I made love to myself with my toes in my mouth and it was nice like that.
Then I wouldn't be able to help myself. I'd hold my foot to my mouth, the other one now, sucking my big toe, which was hardly big at all, working my tongue around it and nibbling just a little. And my other hand, my left hand, would go down to feel the swell of my sex. That soft fatty little mound above my clit, covered with a thin black layer of pubic hair. I'd run my hand over it, spreading my fingers around my clit as they went down. I'd suck my toe harder, like it was a cock that could cum all over my tongue, and I'd rub my pussy. Lightly though, gently, just barely.
My pussy lips would be swollen by then, filled with excited blood, all dark pink and rubbery beneath my fingers. I'd play with them, teasing my neglected clit. She was hard already, poking out of the wrinkled little hood, that pretty knot of flesh just above my slit. I'd leave her alone and pinch my lips, which were hardly long at all, but I'd get one between my fingers and pull a little, cause I liked that. I'd play with one and then the other, feeling the muscles inside my sex, indistinct but noticeable, trembling and hungry and wanting to hold something.
My pussy was the center of me, the middle of everything right then, and I'd let my foot go finally, licking my lips and closing my eyes, and bringing both hands to my cunt. I'd push a finger inside, working it up and down first, looking for the little mouth down there and finding it. The rim soft and warm and hard beneath, which always seemed funny. It was a hole and a nice one and I pushed a finger inside slowly, feeling the little bumps and ridges, all uneven and alien, but not at all because it was me.
I found my clitoris with my other hand then, rubbing her slow the way she likes it, petting her like a kitten so that she purred with a quivering sensation that ran through my tummy and came out of my mouth with a low soft moan. A heavy breath and a smile. I love my clitoris and she loves me and I wanted her to feel good. I worked my finger inside, twisting my hand, curling it gently, tickling the roof of my pussy and underneath my clit, looking for that place, that one little spot that was so perfect to touch by myself.
And rubbing my clit harder now, she wanted it like that. Harder and a little rough. She was hard like a stone, throbbing like my nipples. I pulled back on her, that was best, pulling my whole vulva up and back beneath my fingers and that button would pop out even more, as much as she could like a tiny little cock almost, no bigger than the tip of my little finger. But so sensitive, so wonderfully attuned to every little touch.
I was going to cum for myself, all over my fingers. I was making love now, treating myself to kisses as my lips rubbed together, trying to contain all the sounds that were gathering inside my burning lungs. I was melting inside, my tummy full of butter, dripping down, deep into my womb, into my cunt and I could feel it. My finger was moving back and forth, feeling all that greasy wetness even through the water of my bath. I was cumming and I had not a single thought in my head, not a dream or a whisper of a dream. There was just me and my fingers and my sex.
It was perfect and I loved myself completely.
"Hi, Daddy!" I was coming down the stairs as he was just about to come up, so naturally I had the right of way.
"Hi." He smiled up at me, waiting patiently until I stopped two stairs from the bottom so I could give him a kiss on the cheek without making him bend down.
"How do I look?" I asked him, smiling and letting him see me in my thin yellow sun dress.
It was a nice one, all cotton with little white flowers on it. I had a bra on, of course, and plain white panties underneath. The dress was new though and it fit me really good, tight around the wait, hugging my hips and breasts. It was sexy, but so modest with a high neck and a hemline just above my knees that he couldn't complain. It looked virginal too, that was the best part. A girl wearing a dress like that had to be a good one.
I'd let my hair loose, brushing it so that it sort of cascaded down around my shoulders. A little makeup, of the mom-approved variety, and mostly just some light red lip gloss and a bit of light blue eye shadow, hardly any really, but I didn't need makeup anyway. I wore some low heels, open toed shoes that matched the yellow of the dress close enough to count. A small white purse, some little gold earrings that mom had bought me for my fifteenth birthday, the gold tennis bracelet Daddy had given me for my sixteenth, and the gold locket Mark had given me just cause he loved me around my neck. It had pictures of us in it.
"Uhhh ... Is it prom night already?" Daddy looked at his watch.
"Daddy!" I giggled.
"You look great, beautiful ... Maybe ... You don't have an old sweatshirt? Some jeans maybe..."
He was teasing me, the way he liked to, always suggesting I dress down like maybe I wouldn't get too much attention. But I could have worn a clown outfit and Mark would have thought it was sexy. I wasn't gonna tell dad that though, and besides, it was seriously cool looking nice for a date. I loved it when we went out for real.
"Hey um..." I brushed my hair back with my fingers, knowing Dad liked it when I did stuff like that.
"What?" He looked at me, maybe wondering if he was ever going to get upstairs.
"Do you think I could stay out a little bit late tonight?" I bit my lip. "Just like an hour maybe?"
"Steph, midnight is alredy a little bit late." My dad chuckled.
"I know." I nodded quickly, making sure he knew I appreciated having a midnight curfew on Fridays and Saturdays.
"Why?" he asked, like I knew he would. Mom would have just said no, without caring why I was asking, Daddy would at least hear me out.
"Well, we're going all the way to Clearview, to see a movie and it won't get done til after ten, probably." I explained. "And we were thinking of getting a burger or something afterwards, you know. And so ... Oh please, Daddy?"
"Hmmm ... Well..."
"Just an hour, it takes almost that long to get back from there."
"Yeah. That is a ways," Dad nodded. "Let me talk to Mark when he gets here. I'll think about it."
"Oh thank you, Daddy!" I smiled huge and hugged him and he was smiling and shaking his head.
"I didn't say yes," Dad warned me, but I knew he would.
"I know." I smiled. "But you're still a great dad!"
"Good," he chuckled. "At least I've got that going for me ... Now if I could get to the bathroom..."
"Oh..." I made an apologetic face. " ... Sorry."
That was so cool and one reason out of many that I loved my dad. He understood stuff like that. Mom wanted me to turn into a pumpkin at midnight. Her honest to God opinion was that teenagers could have plenty of fun before the clock struck twelve and there was no earthly reason to stay out later than that. Not for a sixteen year old girl.
Dad's opinion, obviously, was that there were times when the clock wasn't the best barometer for responsibility. He actually said that once, so I know. I wrote it down in my diary just cause it sounded so cool, especially coming from him. My dad was an apple farmer! But he did have a goodly share of common sense too.
And Mark was going to be here any minute. It was almost six-thirty and I checked myself one more time in the mirror by the phone. I looked good, better than good actually, but modesty is attractive too. Mark was going to be creaming in his jeans when he saw me, I'd bet. I hoped so anyway. I don't think I'd ever made a guy cum in his pants, I hoped not anyway, but I'd heard guys make comments like that from time to time. Like overhearing boys talk as I walked past.
I was never really sure if I liked that sort of talk or not. Probably not. Boys can be pretty crude sometimes, girls too, but only around other girls. Boys are crude anywhere. I didn't hold it against them though, I figured it was pretty hard having a couple balls between their legs cranking out dirty thoughts every four or five seconds. They just didn't have an off switch.
"Awww ... Mom!" I shrugged with exasperation as I entered the kitchen.
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