and I used my thumbs to brush the pooched-up lips. A moisture was already beginning to mat the thicker hairs around my slit, and for a pleasant minute I squashed down upon my dampening cuntal mons with the heel of one hand. It made for a sweet pitching in my tummy and a warm glow that seemed to radiate in the marrow of my bones, and I smiled a very smug smile. Top this, Jill baby, I thought.
The slit of my sex ached with desire before I decided to quench those desires with the leisurely insertion of one finger. I moved it into me only a little way at first, squishing it round till the juice coming from inside had made the tip and nail slippery-slick. My, clitoris was up by then and I caressed it impatiently, sighing each time my finger pressed down upon it like a push button. Rocky hadn't bothered about my clit, I remembered.
Didn't he know that the way to a girl's heart was through her joy buzzer?
Maybe he didn't. Funny. I never neglected the little trigger of flesh when I was playing with myself, and I could testify to the effectiveness of that brand of consideration. Like right now. I was hot all over, and tingling all over, and my nipples were stiff as pencils inside my halter. My pussy was awash in sweet, musk-scented juices, and I discovered when I tried that I could suck a finger right up me with no trouble whatsoever. Hell, I felt so venturesome that I added two more fingers to the one already in me, and I made them move in and out like a fast-thrusting cock. The pussy lips was tight upon them, but it wasn't a strained kind of tightness. My cuntal sheath stretched and yielding precisely as my finger motions demanded, and the sensation was eminently satisfactory. Warm beads of sweat rolled from my hair across my forehead, into my eyes. I blinked at them as if they were team.
I made it four fingers, then, and when I realized that the digital bulk was not a bit smaller than the barrel of Rocky's dick, I found that real tears were beginning to ooze from my eyes. My breath was coming faster and faster, mounting as the thrusts of my stiff, bunched-up fingers mounted, and I knew then that the fault of that disastrous night hadn't been mine. Not all of it. Rocky had been a hell of a poor choice to be my seducer, from all indications. I was doing ten times better with my fingers. Did that mean that maybe I had a chance after all? Perhaps I wasn't an immature washout.
When the contractions of my pussy started rippling up and down my thrusting fingers in mad, eager waves, I let myself go. The bed shook under me, and my feet thumped on the headboard as if I were dancing on my back. My head twisted from side to side and my eyes were blurry and dripping tears of pride and joy.
Deeper and deeper sank my fingers as I fucked myself into one hot blinding come after another. My throat ached from the raspiness of my breathing, and my tits were so swollen with arousal that I thought they'd smother my face. Beaver fuzz, the insides of my thighs, my hand almost to the wrists – all were coated with the hot fluids that kept crashing put of my depths like the tides that had bathed Jill's first fuck with Kerry.
'Oh,' I said, 'oh, ohhhhh!' and I felt as if passion and pleasure were about to choke me where I lay tossing and writhing in orgasmic explosion. It was a fantastic come, the best I'd ever known, and that, rather than the mechanical cherry-popping I'd gotten from Rocky, was truly my initiation to womanhood. Masturbation seemed too mundane award for what I'd done to myself. I preferred to think of it as unlocking the door of my sensuality. As, the glow of release clung to me, radiated from me, as my weary fingers slid from the gash they had abused so delightfully, I began to think that there was nothing I couldn't do if I put my mind to it. I'd lost my hymen days ago to a boy, but it took me and mine to turn me into a woman.
Later I picked up Jill's letter and started in where I'd left off. But I wasn't jealous now – merely interested. Once I even found myself yawning as I read her fine-lettered hand. That was a very good sign.
She was full of detail – the episode covered six sheets of paper, front and back, and the time span was nearly twenty-four hours. I should have been slavering with envy, but that was the old Didi, not the smug, proud creature who sprawled on her bed, pussy still moist and Jill and I were equals once more, and not what we'd been in my mind the last several days.
She described in vivid detail how she met her quarry. A casual bumping, a drink spilled from her hand onto the patio, his courteous offer to buy her a replacement. Yes, I thought, a relatively good play. It suckered him in without advertising the fact. Though if he were as sophisticated as she said, he should have guessed that he was being picked up. Or maybe older men found it so pleasant to be noticed by prime pieces that he didn't mind a bit of manipulation.
His name was Edmund, though he'd become Ned by the second sentence recounting their poolside chatter, and he was in his middle forties, quite wealthy and a yachtsman of note. Her initial guesses had been pretty accurate, she was delighted to advise, and apparently he found her as attractive as she found him, for by the next page he'd taken her out to his sloop for an afternoon's sailing.
With her newfound savoir-faire Jill managed to slip off her bikini as soon as they were at sea, and Ned was so impressed by the handsome charms sht revealed to him that he immediately dropped anchor and fucked her buns off on the deck of his boat. He had a marvelous body, a tool nearly twelve inches long, and tremendous staying power. I read with admiration her paragraphs describing how she'd sucked him to orgasm after orgasm, her mouth dripping with his copious floods of hot cum. But that wasn't all. He'd flipped her onto her belly, wedged her legs open with his knees, and descended from behind to see his semen-sticky pecker up her twat in one shuddering insertion that seemed dangerously close to ripping her womb asunder. She actually felt the tip of his rod fucking into her uterus. Words alone were inadequate to express her intensity of feeling, and she used nineteen underscores and nearly a hundred exclamation points through the narrative. Except that it was happening to a friend, a very dear, very close friend, it reminded me just a little of the passages of some of the porno novels we used to read aloud to one another.
She came in torrents, moaning and whining and beating her fists on the polished deck of the sloop. I stroked myself as I read, knowing how she felt when the orgasmic explosion rocked her body, for hadn't I just experienced the same thing myself? Well, almost the same thing, and I was sure that it was close enough.
Ned was obviously very impressed by her sexual responses, for that night he took her to dinner, then to his private cabana on the hotel grounds. Jill's parents were still away and she accepted his invitation to stay the night. A night of apparent ecstasy. She described it in bursts of fiery prose, every stream of consciousness, drifting from fuck to suck to – good Lord! She even let him stick it up her ass? I shivered as I read that paragraph over twice, strumming myself furiously even as I doubted my own ability to perform that particular act. My finger slid into the crack of my butt and stroked tentatively at the super-tight back hole. I dug curiously, but I didn't even try to stick myself there. Unh-uh, I thought. Not for me. No matter how much Jill grooved on being buggered.
There was more, but she'd finished the hot parts and I put the letter down. Hmmmm, I pondered. Maybe she had a point. Didn't it stand to reason that a mature male would know a lot more about sex than some boy wet behind the ears? God, Rocky was in my class at school.
But nothing serious. I wasn't damaged, just deflowered. So what was next? Well, Jill was charting a pretty good course for me. I'd be foolish to ignore it. We'd have some far-out things to talk about in the future, especially once I'd gone out and tried a man on for size just like she'd done. And why not tomorrow?
CHAPTER SEVEN
I suppose I could have tried it in Albany, but I was afraid that somehow it would all get back to my parents. Albany isn't a very big town and a little gossip goes a long, long way. Besides, by the time school started in September, everybody in junior and senior high would know that Rocky had busted me dining the summer. Surely I'd contributed enough to the gossip mills already.
So I bought a bus ticket to Columbus. Round trip is only a couple of dollars, and the trip is just forty five minutes, thanks to the Interstate. I told Mom I was going shopping, maybe to see a movie, too, and she allowed as how it sounded like a good idea and I should have a nice time. Uh-huh, I thought a very nice time, if everything worked. The bus left at 10:00 the next morning and I was on it, my ass itching to get into the game Jill had already tried. It was sorta like going to work, you know? The last bus for home evacuated Columbus at 6:00, so I had eight hours to make a score.
The only big handicap was, I didn't know how or where to begin. I walked along Broad Street, window shopping for clothes and men alike, and I must have seen dozens of guys I thought were the type I was looking for, but how in the hell did I go about letting them pick me up? Did I just walk up to that gray-templed, super distinguished-looking man with a briefcase and a three-hundred-dollar suit, flash him my pearliest smile and say,
