Twenty Five Years Later
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Twenty-Five PairsChapter 9 free porn video
I woke up slowly, without moving or opening my eyes. It was like falling out of nothing and I felt someone touching me. Playing with my breasts as I lay on the sofa. I'd been watching a movie with Dana and Ronnie and I guess I'd fallen asleep, and now...
"What are you doing?" I asked softly and Ronald was touching me.
He jerked and his eyes went wide. The young man pulled his hand out from under my t-shirt and the television was still on. Dana was sleeping nearby, on the big love seat, and the house was quiet except for John Wayne talking to someone, but I could barely hear him. The rest of the world was turned way down.
"I'm sorry," Ronald said. "Sorry."
"Did you get a good feel?" I asked him and I was a little pissed, as any girl would be.
Ron didn't say anything; he just sat there on the floor next to me with his head down, biting his bottom lip. He'd been at the farm for two weeks already and I still didn't know what was going on with him. Neither did Dana or anyone else for that matter. The guy was kind of strange, not in any obvious way, but more like he wasn't really a part of anything. He was outside all the time and looking in, and usually I felt kind of sorry for him, but now I was a little mad.
"Answer me," I said a little louder.
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"You said that," I frowned at him and then I got up and shook Dana awake.
"What?" she blinked at me in annoyance.
"Come on. Time for bed," I told her, looking pointedly at Ronald just to let him know I wasn't gonna leave my friend down there alone so he could molest her too.
I got Dana in her bed and then I went to mine and went to sleep.
"Where's Ronnie?" Dana was waking me up.
"What?" I blinked in the too bright sunshine coming through my window.
"Where's Ronnie? He's not here." Dana looked around my room like the guy might be hiding under my bed or something.
"How should I know?" I fell back on my pillow. "I was sleeping."
"He wasn't," Dana said.
"What do you mean?" I sighed, rolling over and pulling the pillow over my head.
"His bed's still made!"
"So?"
"So, he never makes his bed," Dana was pushing me. "Maybe he ran away or something."
"He's almost twenty, Dana," I groaned. "He can run away if he wants to."
"Help me look for him!" Dana pulled my pillow and I tried to hold it.
"God!" I gave up. "Why do you love that guy?"
"I don't," Dana said. "I just like him a lot. Come on. Please?"
"Yeah, yeah," I frowned, getting out of bed and my dick was hard as a rock cause I had to pee. "Stupid dick."
"Does that hurt?" Dana giggled, momentarily forgetting all about Ronnie and his big trouble as she saw about eight inches of hard cock sticking out the leg band of my panties.
"Get outta here!" I frowned at her.
"God!" Dana rolled her eyes, but at least she left.
I threw on some jeans, socks and sneakers, a fleece pullover that I liked, pink with the big baby blue CK logo on it; although I always thought companies should pay me to advertise their crap. It was seriously cute though, and comfortable. I brushed my teeth and brushed my hair which was pretty long and seriously light after the hot summer, like white gold sort of. I took my time and Dana was getting more and more hyper by the minute.
"Jen! Hurry up! Jenny!" she was yelling for me and her parents were yelling at her and it was all stupid.
Then I wondered if maybe the guy hadn't run away, or maybe worse. Would a boy kill himself just because he got caught feeling up a sleeping girl? I wouldn't think so normally, but Ron wasn't exactly normal either. None of us were and I blinked at myself in the mirror wondering if this wasn't a funny farm. Was I crazy too? It seemed like it sometimes, especially because I wasn't like anyone else.
I looked at my pills, which I'd already taken, and I knew what they were. Hormones, progesterone boosters mostly, because my body, being a little weird like it was, was making too much prolactin in my pituitary gland, so I was making milk in my breasts ... Or I had been, until my doctors, and there were three of them, had figured out why. My mom would have known before it even happened, but that was why she'd been the best in her field and those three quacks merely muddled along. It was why I'd chosen genetics and worked so hard at understanding the subject. I didn't really trust anyone else. It was my body and I'd decided that I'd have to be the one taking care of it.
I wasn't there yet, of course, but soon I'd be almost as good a doctor as my mom had been. Maybe.
My shot, the injection I took, was basically estrogen. I didn't have any ovaries but I still needed that stuff since I was a girl. I'd had to take a lot of it before, daily when I hit puberty, and then Mom had decreased it gradually. Now at just fifteen, I took a shot every 72 hours and that was probably a little more than I needed, although the doctors disagreed with me. Eventually though I'd be down to taking a booster just once or twice a month and I was looking forward to that. It was what my mom had told me, all her predictions for my future, and so far Mom had been pretty right.
She'd been right about my tits and I had perfect B cups already. By the time I hit sixteen they'd be C cups for sure. The best boobs in school, Mom had promised, but now I was in a class of one, so ... yeah. That was kind of cheating. Still, I didn't look fifteen. I looked more like seventeen, or maybe even eighteen. I was five foot nine and a hundred eleven pounds, my waist was twenty inches, my hips thirty-two, my boobs 34B cups now. I had an eight inch cock and size six feet. I was a woman already, and there was little doubt that I'd be fully matured by the time my next birthday rolled around. I'd worried occasionally that maybe my thyroid was messed up or something, but everything seemed fine and the doctors were happy. Mr. Fox was happy. I was happy.
I just wished my mom was there to be happy. Her and my dad both; they'd have been pretty proud of me.
Thinking about my mom made me think about Ron. He'd lost his parents too, which was what we had in common, obviously. That and the fact that he was in love with me, which was hardly unusual. It wasn't love anyway, just lust because he was a boy and I couldn't control my body. When I was excited, the chemicals were released, it wasn't my fault. Or his. I frowned at myself in the mirror. I shouldn't have gotten mad at him for feeling my tits. Or maybe I should have, but I could have talked to him or something. What if he did something really stupid?
Boys were so dumb!
"Where's Dana?" I asked her dad and Karl rolled his eyes.
"She took off on Calico, out towards the pond," he told me. "I told her the boy'll be back."
"Yeah," I shrugged. "She's a little excited."
"That girl needs a pill or something," Karl chuckled. "You're going to look for him too?"
"I guess," I made a face. "Dana won't forgive me if I don't help."
"Heh!" he chuckled at that. "Not for five minutes anyway."
"I'm gonna take Roscoe, okay?" I asked, meaning one of the horses. "Go towards the woods maybe. I dunno."
"Nice day for it anyway," Karl nodded and he wasn't too worried it seemed. "You can saddle him up?"
"Oh yeah," I nodded and after living there for more than a year I was pretty good around the horses.
Karl went back to working on a rocking chair for his wife, an antique, or so he said, that he was stripping and going to refinish. He was a handyman, a real one, and that was why he was looking after the house. That and he was some ex-East German Staazi guy, like a spy who'd defected before the Wall came down. At least that's what Dana had told me, so who knows? He had the accent anyway.
I was in the barn, grunting as I lifted a saddle for Roscoe, when I realized I wasn't alone.
"Hey." Ronald was in the loft, looking down at me.
"Hi," I narrowed my eyes at him. "Dana's going crazy looking for you."
"I know," he frowned. "Sorry about that."
"You say that a lot," I smiled, feeling glad he was okay.
"I didn't want to see her though," Ronald said.
"Why?"
"I want to see you."
"Ronald, last night ... I'm sorry, okay?" I sighed. "I just didn't ... I don't know."
"Yeah, that's okay," he nodded. "You shoulda been mad about that."
I started climbing up the ladder to join him.
"I don't know why I did it," he said softly. "Well, I do know. I mean, you're really beautiful, Jen."
"Am I?" I grinned at Ron as I came over the side of the loft. It was full of fresh bales of hay, some of it still green and soft, and my nose itched at the smell of it.
"Yeah," he swallowed hard and moved back, into kind of a cozy spot he'd made. "I never saw a girl like you before."
"And you never will again," I giggled as he reminded me of Josh the first time we'd kissed. The memories made me warm.
"I know you don't like me, but..."
"I like you," I said, sitting down next to him. "I just don't like being touched when I'm sleeping."
"Yeah," Ronald nodded and looked down.
"What's wrong?" I asked him. "You're like the saddest guy I ever met."
"I'm sorry."
"And stop saying that, okay?" I rocked a little, nudging him with my shoulder. "I'm kinda tired of it."
"Uh ... Okay," Ron swallowed hard.
"You ever see a shrink or anything?" I asked him.
"Me? No," he shook his head. "Why?"
"I did," I told him. "After my parents died, when I first got here, I had to see one every week."
"You did?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I was like kinda crazy, you know? I didn't eat or talk to anybody. My parents were dead, my boyfriend was a zillion miles away. It was pretty messed up."
"Did it help?"
"Yeah, I think so," I shrugged. "I'm okay now, I guess. Not okay like I was before. God! I was so happy before."
"I wasn't ever happy," Ronald sighed.
"You should talk to someone about it," I said. "Even if it's just me, you know?"
"Ah..." he smiled and shook his head.
"What?" I looked at him. "I'm not gonna get mad or anything, you know. It helps, I swear."
"I don't know," Ronnie glanced at me. "I really just want to make you like me."
"I do like you," I bumped him playfully with my shoulder. "I told you that."
"Yeah, but maybe you won't if..."
"If what?" I made a face. "You tell me something bad? You don't have to tell me anything, that's the cool part. You can talk about baseball, it doesn't matter."
"You like baseball?" he looked at me with some interest and I laughed.
"No," I shook my head.
"Oh," he frowned. "I do."
"Well, okay. Why do you like baseball?" I asked him. "Maybe you can get me into it."
"It's not random," Ron told me. "That's what I like. No luck involved."
"Not random?" I giggled. "It's sports, come on. It's all random."
"No. See there's no clock for one thing. There's not even a coin toss. Everybody gets the same number of players, there's no power plays or anything. Every team gets the same at bats, the same outs. It's totally fair. There's no sudden death in baseball."
"No cheerleaders either," I laughed. "Yeah, that's a good thing."
"Yeah," Ron grinned at me. "Maybe. Still mascots though."
"It looks boring though," I sighed. "I mean a guy throws a ball and everybody's just standing around waiting all the time."
"No, no ... They're not standing around," Ron smiled. "Every pitch, every player is doing something. It's really complicated."
"Come on," I laughed. "I've seen those guys scratching their butts on TV."
"No, I'm serious. They have to be in the right place, anticipate what's going to happen. Every pitch is different. They have to be thinking the whole time, if this happens, you know, I gotta do this. If something else happens, I gotta do the other thing. Just moving one guy ten feet changes the whole thing, for both teams."
"I dunno," I shook my head. "It doesn't seem that complicated to me."
"You should go to a game," Ron decided.
"Go to a baseball game?" I giggled. "Will you buy me a hotdog?"
"Oh yeah!" he grinned at me. "I'll get you two."
"Heh," I nodded. "Okay, we'll go to an Orioles game. How about that?"
"I wish," Ronald sighed.
"Wish?" I looked at him. "I got a car!"
"What?" he looked at me.
"I got a driver too, I swear," I laughed. "All I gotta do is call and say I have to go to school. Shoot, once we're in Baltimore we can do whatever we want."
"Mr. Fox doesn't get mad?" Ron blinked at me.
"What?" I looked at him. "You're the one with the leather jacket! Come on, you're supposed to be talkin' me into this stuff."
"Oh," he smiled at me and I smiled back and I found myself liking sitting next to him.
I was liking it a lot suddenly and his eyes were a nice shade of hazel, light brown with gold in it, just like my dad's, and he was handsome. Not really manly, but definitely a guy and his body was firm without being big, just healthy and wiry strong maybe. Not like Josh, Ron was different, but nice just the same and my boyfriend was a long ways away and I missed him. I missed touching a man and being touched, and Ronnie was looking at me...
His lips were soft when they touched mine and I couldn't say which of us was more surprised. I sat back blinking rapidly and Ronnie licked his lips, turning a little red. He stared at me and then looked away and I was warm all over.
"Was that your first kiss?" I asked him.
"You could tell, huh?" he shrugged. "Sorry, I just..."
"I told you not to say that anymore," I sighed and I was pulling him to me, feeling like I was the boy for some weird reason.
Maybe because he seemed so innocent. Maybe because my cock ached almost painfully in my panties now. Whatever the reason, we didn't care. I licked between his lips, urging him with the tip of my tongue to open up and he did, slowly and sweetly and I slipped my tongue into Ron's warm mouth slowly. I was sliding down too, we both were, not sitting up anymore, but laying down on the itchy straw of that hayloft. We were on our sides facing each other and kissing gently. He was learning while we did it, figuring it out, and I was smiling in between our kisses, looking into his eyes and telling him it was okay.
After about fifteen minutes I felt Ronnie's hand moving to my breasts, slowly, as if I might stop him. I moaned softly as I felt his first tentative touch through the fleece of my sweatshirt. I kissed him again and his hand grew bolder, giving me a little squeeze and then a harder one. I made soft sounds of approval and arched my back, pressing my tit more fully to his palm.
"Put your hand inside," I whispered. "Underneath."
"Are you sure?" Ron asked, probably remembering what had happened the last time he'd had a hand underneath my shirt.
"Yeah, feel me," I nodded. "I'm gonna feel you too."
"You are?" he grinned. "But I don't have ... Ohhh..."
"Yeah you do," I giggled softly. "Boys have tits too."
I'd slid my hand under his t-shirt and I was rubbing his smooth hairless chest, feeling his small male nipples hard and stiff. Josh used to get excited the same way and I'd loved playing with his nipples. Pinching and kissing them. Men are so sexy and they have no idea what girls liked about them. That always struck me as being funny, how they imagine that they're nothing but a cock, and that's such a small part of a man really. Not the sexiest part at all and I was going to prove it to Ron. I played with his chest while his hand found my bare breasts and we were kissing again.
"Take it off..." I breathed, sitting up awkwardly, lifting my arms so Ron could pull my sweatshirt over my head.
"You're beautiful," Ron told me, looking at me as I smiled at him, naked from the waist up.
"I wish," I giggled. "Give me your shirt now."
I pulled his t-shirt over his head and that was better, even though the straw was a little itchy and it stabbed into us sometimes. We were face to face, my ripe young tits pressed flat against Ron's chest as we made out some more, like we couldn't get enough kissing. My lips felt bruised and my tongue was getting tired. I was out of practice, I thought, and I missed Josh so much right then, but I didn't feel guilty. Ron really needed a girl, I thought. I just wondered if we should go all the way or not. He wasn't really acting crazy with lust the way Josh had the first time we'd done it. I actually wondered if Ron was feeling my pheromones at all, like maybe I wasn't making them anymore. Or maybe he was immune. Or maybe this was just the way he was, sort of shy and slow and deliberate, but totally sweet too.
I pushed the questions out of my head, because I did tend to get a little clinical, another gift from my mom probably. I could imagine her in the throes of orgasm with my dad and stopping to take notes on exactly what she was feeling. I sorta didn't want to be that bad, so I let it go and just thought about Ron and how warm he was against me, and how his hand felt as it moved up and down the gentle curve of my spine. How his mouth tasted a little bitter, acrid maybe with his cigarettes. The way my nipples itched and burned as they rubbed against his firm body.
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