The Chronicles of Mark and Jennifer
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The Chronicles Of Mark And Jennifer Ch. 13 free porn video
Jennifer’s story
Mark and I had been wrapped up in a big blanket, standing in his living room, after having been caught out in the rain, kissing and cuddling to get warm, when I just had to have him. I took his hand and told him, ‘I know an even better way to get warm,’ and led him into his, into our, tiny bedroom. Mark’s a lot bigger than me, but he didn’t resist at all when I turned him around and just threw him down on the bed. I knew that he loved it when I got on top — that was the first way we made love — and I made a motion to do that again, when a naughty, naughty thought came into my mind. Mark had gone down on me for the first time last night, and Monica had told me how a girl does that to a guy in return. I had sort of been thinking that I’d try that for a birthday present for Mark tomorrow, but he was right in position for me to try it now. I had been worried that when the time to try it tomorrow would come, I might not be able to do it, but, all of a sudden, I not only knew that I could do it, but I wanted to try it. I took Mark’s manhood in hand, and bent down over him. Monica had said to start out slow, to just lick him at first, to see if I could handle this, and that’s what I tried. I got an, ‘Oh, my God, Jen!’ for my first efforts, and I knew Mark was loving this.
I knew that I could at least lick Mark’s manhood, that didn’t sound too scary. Monica had told me that the whole idea sounds gross, until you actually try it, and then you find out that it isn’t, that it can actually be a lot of fun. I knew, now, just how amazing it was when Mark went down on me, and I knew that was the first time he’d done that to a girl, so I thought that I’d at least have to try it. Oh, gosh, there was just so much marvelous about sex, things I didn’t know the first thing about just eight days ago, that seemed so scary to think about but so wonderful once I actually tried them, and that gave me the nerve and determination to try new things.
But licking it, on the outside, was one thing. I knew that I could do that, but Monica had told me that the next step was to take his manhood — she called it his cock — into my mouth. That was a weird thought, that was a scary thought, but licking didn’t taste bad, and I knew Mark would never hurt me, so I just went ahead and did it.
Oh, my God, Mark’s reaction was awesome, He was grabbing the sheets with his hands, clenching them and pulling on them hard, and I could tell that he was loving this. As for me, why this wasn’t bad at all, and it was actually kind of fun. Monica had told me that guys love it the more of them you can actually take in your mouth, and I kind of tried, but couldn’t get more than half of Mark in me before it started to get too far back in my mouth, and I had to pull it back a bit. I gagged a bit, and for a second thought I might throw up, but I didn’t, and I tried to do my best to make Mark feel great.
At first, Mark was holding his body rigid, like he does when he’s about to climax, and I thought that he would, right away. Monica told me about that, as well, about what it’s like when a guy has his orgasm in your mouth. Oh, man, I wasn’t sure that I was ready for that yet, but then Mark shifted his position a bit, relaxing the tension on his legs, and I knew that he was trying to hold off. Suddenly, I just felt my love for Mark wash over me, as much as he was enjoying this, he was trying to be considerate of me, to not make things difficult for me. Oh, my God, he loved me, her really loved me!
I was so torn! I wanted to keep doing this to Mark, and I wanted to make love to Mark at the same time. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I moved up and took him inside me. The look on Mark’s face was incredible, and I know that I had to be smiling from ear to ear. Mark was so wonderful, and I was just in heaven with him inside me. ‘Make love to me, Mark,’ was all that I could say.
And he did, oh, my God, he did. It was like the very first time we had ever made love, the way it felt in my body, and the way it felt in my mind. I remembered how wonderful it had been, the first time, when I was going to tell Mark that I loved him, and it came out the same way, ‘Make love to me, Mark.’ All of a sudden, quickly, my climax washed over me, making me tremble from head to toe, and as soon as that started to subside, it hit me again, and again. I lost track of time, I lost track of everything, and then suddenly, Mark stiffened up and roared out something, as his own orgasm hit him.
I’m not even sure what happened. At first I was laying down on top of him, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, and then I was on my side, beside him, with Mark looking into my eyes. We’d left the kind of pathetic wall sconce light on, so I could see him, and Mark has the deepest, darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen, that I could ever imagine. I could get lost, just looking into his eyes.
And Mark was looking into my eyes as well. My eyes are a pale blue, and I know that Mark likes them, but he wasn’t just looking into my eyes, he was looking into my soul. I could feel it, I could feel him, trying to get closer and closer to my heart. He whispered to me, so softly I could barely hear him, ‘I love you, Jennifer.’
Mark’s story
I awoke just a few minutes earlier than usual, to Jennifer playing with my chest hair. Her head was on my shoulder, and her fingertips touching me ever so slightly, curling and lightly pulling on my hair. ‘Happy birthday,’ she said softly, when she realized that I was awake.
I was remembering last night, almost like a dream, as wonderful a night as I had ever known. It had been like our first night together, but without the uncertainty and without the fear. I was going to marry this wonderful woman, and I kept wondering: was every morning waking up with Jen going to be like this?
I couldn’t help but think of my parents’ marriage, and Jennifer’s parents. My father had taken off when I was just two years old, and any shows of affection my parents ever had for each other were before anything I could remember. Had my mom and dad waken up feeling like this together? I have no idea, and I’ll never know. Mom never speaks about my father, and I have no way of knowing what he was like. My sisters are older than me, and they remember him a little bit, but that’s it. They’ve never said that they remember any fights or anything, just that, one day, he was gone.
But the Matthews? I saw them holding hands, I could see the love that they have for each other, even after twenty-six years of marriage, and that gives me hope. Jen said that she heard them making love, last Friday, after meeting me that afternoon, and that was a wonderful sign, a sign that two people can stay together and can make a marriage last and can still love each other after so many years. Heck, the Matthews were still in love, and they had been married for longer than I’ve been alive.
But what the Hell do I know about love? At this time, fifteen days ago, I was just like any other freshman at UK. I was working on my classes, and trying to think about how to meet girls, and wanting desperately to get laid. The girls I dreamed about? Why, they were the sorority girls, the ones with the strawberry blonde hair — whether real or Clairol — the golden tans, the perfect skin and awesome figures under not a whole lot of clothes, the ones who wore necklaces and earrings and short skirts and flirted effortlessly, leaving guys like me in their wakes as they walked through campus. I was going to get my degree in chemistry, then maybe a masters, and some fabulous job with a major industrial firm, and move up the ladder with a real, living Barbie doll on my arm. The sorority girl I’d marry, after I was graduated, of course, was going to be some kind of sex fiend, a girl who just knew everything but still only from listening to her sisters — the other sorority sisters I had already screwed, one after another — an ornament of a wife who would be totally devoted to me. I had n
o father growing up, I had no idea what a husband and wife were supposed to be together, and all that I had was the ideal, gleaned from other guys and caged copies of Playboy, ideas of how a Real Man was supposed to live his life.
And then I ran into Jennifer, still dressed in her old, long skirt, still covered up, still with no hint of sexiness about her, losing an armload of books going up the awkward steps toward the Classroom Building. What was it about Jen that changed everything, from that very first moment? She was a bit flustered, with losing the books, and still shy, even though she had known me for years. When I had offered to walk her the rest of the way to class, to lighten her burden, she told me at first that I didn’t need to do that, she didn’t want to be a bother. I got a slight look of surprise from her when I called her Jenny, which apparently no one else ever did, and maybe a smile? If she did smile, it was just ever so slightly, so shyly, but somehow, I was hooked.
The sorority girl image I had of my future girlfriends (plural) and eventual wife? That was gone, gone forever. The hot, hot life I’d have as a college student, running through a steady stream of willing and wanton girlfriends? Well, I guess that I had the girlfriend now, one who loved me as much as I loved her, and yeah, we were lovers, but it was just nothing like I ever dreamed it would be like, my fantasies pale in comparison, were just total trash, compared to the sweet, shy, wonderful woman laying here, in my arms.
Oh, well, enough of that, I’m about to burst, and I’ve got to take a leak! I pulled myself out of bed, to a bit of a pouting look from Jen — and I’d never seen that before from her — and did what I had to do. I walked back into the bedroom, still brushing my teeth, and said, ‘Better take care of your morning business, ’cause we’ve got a tub full of wet clothes from last night.’
‘Yeah, and kind of a wet pillow here, too. My hair was still pretty wet when we went to bed.’
This was one heck of a great start to my nineteenth birthday — Jen is older than me by a few months — as I picked the wet mess out of the tub, and started hand-washing our clothes in the kitchen sink, while Jen took her bath. Her hair had been a tangled, wet mess last night, after we had walked home in the pouring rain, and it just made sense for her to take the first bath anyway. I washed everything, and wrung it out, waiting to hang it up over the bathtub again after I’d had my own bath.
After I heard the hair dryer shut off — or should that be: after I no longer heard the hair dryer? — Jen walked out of the bathroom, still naked, still brushing out her long blonde hair. Oh, it wasn’t the platinum blonde or strawberry blonde of the sorority girls of my old fantasies, but a golden, honey blonde, a natural blonde, which hung down to the small of her back. Since she started using conditioner, and got rid of the dried-out, fly-away look, I realized: her hair was just as gorgeous any of the girls in my fantasies. Her eyes weren’t framed by mascara and eye-shadow, but they were as beautifully blue as anything I’d ever dreamed. She didn’t have the big-boobed yet tiny waist look that all of my fantasy girlfriends would have, but she was fit and slender and feminine, and, to me, just wonderful. She wasn’t movie star beautiful, but she was just simply, effortlessly pretty. I guess that, if it weren’t for her long, long hair, she wouldn’t be seen as striking to anyone else, but, to me, she was the embodiment of Botticelli’s Venus.
‘What?’ she asked me, catching me just staring at her.
‘My God, Jen, you have no idea how wonderful you look to me.’
‘You look pretty good to me, too,’ she said, and came up and hugged and kissed me. ‘Happy birthday, future husband.’
‘I love you, Jen, but I need my bath now.’
I was in the tub still when Jen brought in the clothes I’d hand-washed from the kitchen to the bathroom, piling them on the closed toilet seat. I’d have to rig a clothesline across the bathtub to let them drain as they dried. I had hung the hand-washed bed sheets across the living room the other day, but they were light enough that I was able to wring them almost completely dry. This stuff included Jen’s blue jeans, and was heavier, and wetter.
In the meantime, Jen had started cooking breakfast. Fortunately, she’d found a lid for the frying pan, because she was still naked while cooking bacon! We’d gotten into the habit of just staying undressed until just before we had to leave, and I loved it. It was absolutely the last thing I would ever have expected from Jennifer, even after I started thinking about going out with her, because she had been so very shy and modest before. Even now, since she’s changed her style of dress, she’s pretty modest: she doesn’t wear the short-shorts that so many girls are sporting now that the weather has turned warm, she hasn’t been out trying to get a tan, and she isn’t using make-up. Jen has managed to look pretty without trying to look sexy, and, from what I can tell, a lot of guys have noticed that she’s pretty. She gets a lot of looks from guys, and some envious ones from girls, as we walk across campus, and, from what I gather, she’s managed to cause a group of guys in her calculus class to lose their minds.
‘So, do you have any plans for your birthday?’ Jen asked me.
‘Absolutely none. I pretty much figured that you’d have something you wanted to do, but really, I don’t need anything any more special than you just being with me. I don’t need presents, I don’t need a cake, all that I need is a kiss.’
‘I think that I can come up with a kiss, and a cake, later on. I don’t really know: what kind of cake do you like?’
‘Chocolate is always good.’
‘OK, we can do that. Anyway, Monica came up with as good a birthday present idea for you as I could have: she suggested that we go down to Olan Mills and get a portrait done together.’
‘Isn’t that kind of expensive?’
‘I don’t really know, but I think that it’s the perfect gift, really for both of us.’
‘OK, under one condition: we have to wear the same clothes we wore on our first date.’
‘Now, that’s a good idea! I’ll have to go back to the dorm to pick up that shirt, though.’
Ring! The telephone.
‘Now, who can that be?’ Jen asked.
‘At this hour, it’ll be my mother or one of my sisters.’
‘Oh, in that case, I’ll get it,’ and Jen answered the phone. ‘Hello.’
‘Oh, hi, Lisa, I’m Jennifer, Yeah, he’s right here.’ Jen kind of grinned when she handed me the phone.
‘Hi, Lise, what’s up?’
‘Mom told us that you were engaged,’ Lisa said. ‘Does this mean that she’s already moved in? It’s what, just seven in the morning.’
‘No, Lisa, Jen hasn’t moved in. She’s just here for the weekend.’
‘So, you’ve already gotten your birthday present, huh?’ If it’s possible to hear someone smirking over the telephone, I just did. I ignored that part of the conversation, and said, ‘What’s up?’
‘Well, mom and I figured that, since it’s your birthday, we’d take you out to dinner. Naturally, I’m just dying to meet my new sister-in-law. Debbie and I still have to tell her what a horrible mistake she’s making. And is this the Jennifer Matthews that I remember from high school, the religious girl with the long hair who was always so serious?’
‘Yup, that’s her.’
‘How on earth did this happen, with her?’
‘Ask mom, she already knows the story.’
‘Mom already told me, it just didn’t sound real, is all. At any rate, we’ll be in Lexington around eleven, if that’s OK.’
‘Hang on. Jen, my mom and sisters were planning to come over for my birthday, and take us out to eat. That OK with you?’ Jen got one of those, oh, crap, do I have to, looks on her face, but said that it was OK. ‘Sure, Lise, eleven’s fine. See y’all then.’
Jennifer did not look happy, but, hey, when you marry someone, you marry his whole family. ‘Hey,’ I sai
d to her, ‘you were fine meeting my mom. Why do you look so not pleased with meeting my sisters?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, I guess that I was hoping to have you all to myself today.’
‘Well, you will later on. Don’t worry: you’ll like my sisters . . . maybe.’
Fred’s story
I was out doing my morning chores, feeding the cows and chickens, when I noticed the bar of sunlight in the barn that shouldn’t be there. It looks like the Lord has favored me with a new hole in the barn roof, kind of like God favored Reb Tevye in that new movie, Fiddler on the Roof. Edna and I had seen the movie in the downtown theater in Mount Sterling a few weeks ago, and I was struck with how Tevye attributed all of his fortunes, good and bad, to God, and thanked Him for them. I didn’t really understand Judaism at all before the war, and seeing those awful death camps, well, I still don’t understand the Jews, but I sure do respect them now. If I were Tevye, I’d be thanking God for blessing me with that hole in the roof. The play was written by a Jewish guy, so maybe that’s really how a poor Jewish farmer would respond.
Trouble is, how the heck do I get up there to fix it? It’s too far from the cupola to reach by going out that way, and Edna would have heart failure if she saw me climbing up there to patch a hole. I guess that I’m going to have to call on Robbie, the barn guy, because he’s the only one around here who really knows what he’s doing.
So, after I finished my morning chores, I called Robbie, and he came over to look at the hole. It wasn’t a problem for him, he said, because he had the right equipment to repair it safely. Actually, he wanted to remove and replace the whole piece of sheet metal, saying that would last a lot longer and be less likely to leak than a simple patch.
‘Robbie, you know that money’s tight around here.’
‘Yup, money’s tight all around, but this is a simple trade. Our church’ — Robbie was a member at a different church than we attend — ‘is having a barn raising for that young couple who bought the old Calvert farm. They look like they’ll be a solid addition to the community, but the old barn is half-fallen down. We’ll have a new roof for the new barn, but I’m sure that I can salvage the metal I need for your barn from the old one at Calvert’s. All that you have to do is help with the barn raising, there’s going to be thirty or more of us there, and I think we can get the new barn raised up right quick, and I know the Fords — that’s the young couple — would be happy to let you have the metal for helping.’
‘Just how much metal is there, Robbie, because all of a sudden, I’ve got an idea.’
‘There’s plenty, it was a big barn. Why, what’s up?’
‘Saddle up, Robbie, and I’ll show you.’
With that, Robbie and I saddled up two of the horses, and rode down to the old cabin. ‘See, that place has seen better days, but my daughter and her fiancé have been talking about moving in there during the summers away from college. Trouble is, it needs a lot of work, and the roof is shot. Do you think the sheet metal from the old Calvert barn would work to reroof that cabin?’
We dismounted and walked through the cabin. Robbie said that the trusses still looked in good shape to him, and that he could make that sheet metal work here, and still have a piece to repair my barn. Still, that’s a lot of metal, and he thought that we’d need to be talking money or a trade with the Fords or his church for that material. ‘And, you know, a lot of that old barn wood could be used on this cabin, too. It was painted red, not creosoted, so it could be reused in a house.’
‘I wonder what we have that we could spare that would interest them.’
Robbie answered, ‘Fred, they’re a poor couple, and they’re putting almost all of their money into the materials for the new barn. Even with that, our congregation is donating some of the material. Almost anything you have that isn’t just junk would be welcome.’
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