It is surprising, and a little disappointing, to look back on my first time with Tabatha, and realise that a lot of details have been lost in the intervening years. I remember the feel of her wet skin in the shower; our first tongue kiss; my knees buckling as her soapy hand touched me between the legs; her pink bedroom, the teasing and the squeaky bed.
Most of all I remember how she just switched off afterwards, as if it was nothing and I was nothing. I remember at the time thinking that sex did not feel as strange and new as I was expecting.
Unlike my other firsts, there was no pre-cursor dream. And yet I had that feeling that I was doing something that I had done before. It did not feel like I was losing my virginity. I know now that the condom would have muted the sensations. Particularly a cheap one from a vending machine.
They are not the most sheer. And I had bought a regular size, because that was all they had. That was why it was so hard to get on. It probably strangled me. I hadn't worn a condom before, so I didn't know what to expect.
For weeks afterwards, Tabatha avoided situations where we might talk privately. And in front of Mum, she maintained and even escalated the level of hostility. She didn't come to visit me. To be fair, it was a busy time for Tabatha.
She was getting towards the pointy end of her schooling and started to get more serious about study. She was also learning to drive and looking for every opportunity to get her hours up. On occasions when Mum might have gone out shopping and given us some time alone together, Tabatha was now going along with Mum for the driving experience.
She also got a job. Or rather, Mum got her a job. Tabatha worked at the make-up counter of a department store at a nearby shopping centre.
When she came home from work in her uniform, with her hair tied back and her face made up with some new colour of lipstick or eye shadow or rouge, she was no longer a schoolgirl. She looked like a woman. And she was more beautiful. Her complexion was so pale and her natural beauty was so subtle, that a bit of make-up and colour completely transformed her face.
She was always tired and going to bed early, or going to her room to study. There were lots of reasons why she didn't come to my room any more. But that didn't make me feel any better.
I didn't fully understand it at the time, but I had a crush on my sister. The way she shunned me during that time made me lovesick. I needed to talk to her. Finally, one night, while Mum was busy baking in the kitchen, I went to Tabatha's room. "Come in," she called out, after I knocked. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?" "I just want to talk to you, Tabatha. We haven't talked since that day. You haven't come to play." "I've got this Biology assignment due tomorrow. I'm busy, Andy.
I can't talk now." I'd been polite and held back for weeks now. I wasn't going to let her brush me off. Not easily anyway. I went up to her as she resumed scribbling in a notebook at her desk. I put my hand on her shoulder. "I miss you, Tabatha." There was perhaps more emotion in my voice than I had intended. "Don't touch me!" she hissed, and swatted my hand away with hers, looking beyond me to her bedroom door to check that Mum wasn't watching.
When she turned to face me, I could see smouldering anger. The blood drained cold from my heart. "I told you not to come to me, and you come to me!" She spoke in a venomous whisper. "I told you not to fuck me, and you fuck me!" She stood up to face me and I backed away. "I made two simple rules, Andy, and you've broken both of them!
And now you're getting all clingy and you want to talk? Well, as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to talk about. You had your chance, and you blew it. Now get out of my room and don't ever come back in here again!" I was stunned and horrified. "GET OUT!!!" I went down the hall to my room, walking faster and faster, and finally running to make it to my pillow in time to catch the flood of tears and muffle the howl of anguish. The following weeks passed in a fog of pain and self-pity.
I avoided Tabatha more than she had avoided me. I practised on my electric guitar in my room and listened to Coldplay. The music was more mournful and the lyrics were more meaningful than before. Then, seemingly out of the blue, I got a call one night from Jo, just after dinner. Mum looked bemused as she handed me the phone. After some awkward pleasantries, Jo explained.
"You're probably wondering why I called. I was watching an old James Bond movie on Foxtel and he ordered a martini, like he always does. They come in such a cool glass, don't you think?" "Yeah," I agreed, tentatively, wondering where this was headed. "I can't wait till I'm old enough to go to a cocktail bar and order a martini. That would be so cool, don't you think?" "Yeah." The poor girl.
I didn't give her much to work with. "Anyway," she ploughed on regardless, "in the movie, the martini has a green olive on a toothpick. And it's a stuffed olive, with a red thing in it. And I want to know what the red thing is. And no one in my family knows what it is. My dad says he used to know, but he's forgotten, and Lisa said you would know because you know everything." She pauses because she has run out of breath.
"It's a pimento." I can hear Jo turning away from the phone to talk to someone in the background. "He says it's a pimento, Dad." Then speaking back into the phone to me, "Dad says you're right. What's a pimento, Andy? Can you eat it?" "It's a red pepper. It's like a bit of capsicum." "Oh, I can eat that. You're very clever, Andy. How do you know stuff like that? Lisa was right about you." We ended up talking for nearly an hour. Without the distraction of her beautiful eyes and her hidden bust, I was able to concentrate and have a proper conversation with Jo for the first time.
The fact that I knew the answer to her question seemed to validate her call and we forgot that it was just a silly pretext. She overcame her initial verbal diarrhoea and became quite coherent.
Although, she continued to play dumb from time to time to flatter me. It worked. We talked about how we both liked swimming and lying in the sun and we both missed summer already. Jo suggested we meet at the local public swimming pool the following Saturday. It would be a poor substitute for the beach, but it was heated and indoors. It didn't really sound like a date, but it sounded to me like a good excuse to see Jo in a swimsuit.
So I wasn't going to say "no". I am wearing my boardies. I am changed first and I wait on the pool side of the women's changing rooms for Jo to appear.
When she does, she is wearing a one-piece swimsuit that is a metallic grey blue, the colour of the sea under cloudy skies. It is very stylish and flattering, with a plunging neck line. It's like a bikini, but with the bra and panties united at the front by a panel of lycra that narrows more than her waist and reveals the soft outline of her hour glass figure.
I try not to be too obvious about looking her up and down as she approaches. But there is something about her smile that suggests she knows I'm checking her out and she likes it. Why didn't you wear your Speedos?" She sounds a bit disappointed. I must have created a bigger impression than I thought, all those weeks ago, when I answered the door in my Speedos after coming all over Tabatha's back. That seems like such a long time ago. "I only wear them for sunbaking in the back yard." She passes me without stopping.
The back of her swimsuit is surprising. There is no panel at the back.
Only the bikini bottom and a few shoestring straps crisscrossing her beautiful bare back. Her sexy buttocks seem to consume the bikini pants as I follow her to the steps of the pool. My cock throbs in appreciation.
We get into the warm water and swim around and talk while we swim. There are lots of other people in the pool. Mainly families with younger kids. But Jo holds my attention in a way that makes me feel like we are the only two people in the place. My friends have warned me in the past that Jo is a cock tease. Even her own friends say that about her. It seems a bit harsh to me because, up until now, she has appeared to me to be so demure and she modestly conceals her bust.
The only hint I ever got before, was when she licked the tomato sauce off a particularly long chip at the Fish 'n' Chip shop one day after school.
The way she did it and the way she looked at me while she did it was so suggestive of her sucking my cock that I nearly creamed my pants.
I blushed and she blushed and then she ate the chip. I convinced myself afterwards that it was my imagination rather than her trying to tease my cock. But today, in the pool, my concept of Jo as demure and modest is slowly unravelling. There is nothing modest about her swimsuit. The wet lycra clings to her big tits and reveals them to me like never before.
They are big heavy jugs. Her nipples are clearly visible. It takes all my will power and concentration not to stare at them constantly. And there is nothing demure about the look in her eyes any more. When I stare in open admiration of her beautiful eyes today, she seems to drink it in. And when my eyes are distracted by her deep cleavage, she seems amused. As we swim idly and talk, she stays close and her body bumps into mine occasionally and, perhaps, accidentally.
She smiles when we touch, but I begin to convince myself that she is, in fact, a tease. And that she is just playing with me for her own vanity and amusement. She is such a goddess and I am a mere mortal. She floats on her back easily and I can't. She offers to teach me. It's not that I don't know what to do, it's just that my legs sink.
We are in one metre of water and the top half of her body emerges from the water as she stands beside me, putting her hands under my bum and my legs to keep me afloat. Water drains down into her cleavage and flows underneath the panel as I watch.
I have an erection and I'm glad that I'm not wearing my Speedos because it would be much more obvious. "I know what you mean about the Speedos," she says. Is she reading my mind? "About how you only use them for sunbaking. I have a bikini that I wouldn't wear in public. I only wear it for sunbaking in the backyard." I'd like to see that. "My Mum told me once that teenage boys get erections just from seeing a girl in a bikini. Is that true?
I think that's ridiculous." I am taken aback, but Jo looks at me, innocently, as if talking about erections is a perfectly normal topic of conversation. All I can think is, if I was wearing my Speedos, she wouldn't have to ask. "Well, I can only speak for myself, but it depends on the girl." I look directly into Jo's hazel eyes as I say it. I am still floating on my back with her hands supporting me underneath. Her touching me and talking about erections is not doing anything to alleviate mine.
"Oh," she sounds pensive rather than disappointed. I have given her an answer she was not expecting. She looks away. But in looking down, her eyes start to discern the bulge in my board shorts.
"OH!" she shrieks. I am startled out of my floating position and we both look around furtively to check that her shout has not attracted too much attention. "I'm sorry, Jo. I can't help the way I feel about you." We are whispering now. "But I'm not even wearing a bikini!" she protests, as if that panel over her stomach should have stopped me from barring up. "You could be wearing your full school uniform and I would have the same reaction.
You're totally hot." For a moment, she hesitates, and I feel like I might have offended her and she wants to leave. But then she smiles and confesses to me that when I opened the door in my Speedos that time she thought I was "drop dead gorgeous". I am so relieved and flattered and happy. We couldn't keep our hands off each other after that and we had to leave the pool after the lifeguard blew his whistle at us and pointed to "no heavy petting" on the pool rules.
We went to a park near her parent's house and sat on the swings and talked until it started to get dark. Then I walked her home. She asked me to come inside and we found a note on the kitchen bench from her parents saying they had gone out for dinner. There was money for her to order in a pizza. Lisa had gone out too. The house was empty. Jo's eyes sparkled. "You can stay for pizza if you want." I hungered for so much more than a slice of her pizza. I rang Mum to tell her that I'd walked Jo home and been invited to stay for dinner.
I didn't mention that it was just the two of us. "Ok, sweetheart. But I want you home by 9 at the latest." After dinner, we started kissing on the couch in the living room. Jo was very serious about her kissing and told me I was doing it wrong and gave me lessons on how to do it better. She had a long tongue that reached deep into my mouth. "You've got such a long tongue." "Yeah, I know. Look! I can touch my nose." She poked out her tongue and curled it up to touch the tip of her cute, aquiline nose.
"Can you do that?" "Nuh." I stuck out my modest tongue, which could not even reach half way to my nose. She laughs. "I can even lick my own nipples." She stared at me with bedroom eyes. All pretence of being demure and modest is gone. Maybe she is a cock tease after all. I stared back at her in open mouthed wonder. I didn't know what to say. "I can show you, but we can't have sex tonight. I don't fuck on a first date." Sounds fair. Cruel, but fair. I gave her an "of course!" nod.
"You can undress me, if you like." She was making this very easy for me. She was wearing a floppy powder blue wind-cheater. I lifted it up over her head. The elastic waistband caught her big breasts and lifted them briefly before they fell out with a heavy flump.
I couldn't hear that flump with my ears, but the reverberations seemed to resonate in the base of my erection, like a disturbance in the force. Underneath, she was wearing a black lace bra.
I took the opportunity to look at her while her head was buried in the inverted sweater. The neck of her top caught on her necklace and her pony tail, so I got a good long look as she tried to untangle herself. Her breasts were magnificent.
When the wind-cheater was finally off, she turned around for me to unhook her bra at the back. I kissed her lovely shoulder and her delicate neck as I struggled with the fastener. She shivered and giggled. I released her big tits from the bra and they were lily white. There were red marks and indentations where the tight bra had bitten into her soft skin.
She had the biggest nipples I had ever seen. They were the size of thimbles. Later, as she lay on her back, I had the unmistakeable impression of two large white ice-cream sundaes with raspberries on top. "You can take off my jeans, but I'm keeping my panties on." Instead of standing up for me to take them off, she lay down on the couch and let me pull them off.
Her breasts wobbled like jellies on her chest. Then she stood up in front of me and held her breasts in her fine, long fingers.
She was naked except for her pale blue satin panties. She had a fading tan from summer and clearly defined tan lines around her boobs. Her eyes glittered with excitement. I was in awe of her big white tits and her raw pink nipples and she seemed pleased that she had my full attention.
I was still seated on the couch and I watched as she twisted and swayed gently in front of me, showing me her body at slightly different angles, like a model posing for a photographer.
"Do you believe me? That I can lick my own nipples?" She squeezed her own breasts from underneath so that they puffed up and spilled out over her hands. She brushed a long finger over each nipple to stimulate it. "Or do I have to prove it to you?" Her lower lip curled in a slutty challenge. She looked down to her nipples and back to my eyes. "I believe you. But I'd still like you to show me.
Or I can lick them for you." "Good answer." She moved closer to me and let her left breast hang down in front of my face. "Why don't we have one each?
There's enough for two." I held her breast gently in my hands and kissed her big rubbery nipple. She closed her eyes and moaned.
Then she bowed her head and lifted her right breast closer to her mouth and stuck out her long tongue. The end of her tongue rolled into a wet, pink, point not unlike the nipple it was approaching. It seemed to happen in slow motion as I watched with Jo's other big teat between my lips. Her wet tongue not only reached her nipple, but twirled around it, wetting it all over and leaving it glistening and hard.
I instinctively sucked hard on the big teat in my mouth and Jo closed her eyes again and moaned louder. It was the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed at that point in my life and I nearly shot my load then and there in my pants. We sucked and we licked and we swapped tits and we kept going for what seemed like hours. Jo loved having her nipples sucked hard and I even held one of her big red raspberries in my teeth at one point. Finally she broke away. "Now it's your turn.
What can you show me?" I stand up and pull off my top. I kick off my shoes, undo my belt and drop my jeans. I am wearing black briefs and my cock is straining to bursting point beneath the cotton. Jo kneels in front of me while I step out of my jeans. "Now this is interesting." She looks at the bulge in my pants and looks up at me. "Can I touch it?" She is being deliberately coy.
I nod. She wraps her fist around my cock through the material. There is a big wet stain of pre-cum at the end of my cock and so much has seeped through the fabric that there is a silvery "snail trail" on the outside. A fresh dribble of pre-cum oozes out through the cotton as we watch. "Oops!" says Jo. "Did I make you come?" "No, that's just pre-cum." "What's 'pre-cum'?" I'm sure she's just playing dumb as a pretence for talking about pre-cum with my dick in her hand.
She really is a tease. "It's a slippery fluid my body produces. It's to lubricate your vagina." If she's gonna play dumb about sex and ask explicit questions, I'm gonna give her explicit answers. Jo suddenly pulls down my undies and has my cock in her fist. "Very nice. I'm impressed." She inspects it and squeezes it and looks up at me and smiles.
Seven? Seven and a half?" "What?" "Inches." "I don't know. I've never measured it." "What! Never measured it? Isn't that the first thing every boy does?" I shrug. Jo gets up and goes over to the kitchen drawer.
She comes back with a tailor's measuring tape. Her jugs swing and bounce as she walks. My cock strains as I watch her. There is something about those tits and the shape of her body that just pushes my buttons. She squats in front of me. "That's it," she says, as she holds up the measuring tape and my cock strains again.
The tape is cold and her fingernail carelessly scratches the very tender tip, making me flinch. "Sorry. Did I hurt you? Sorry!" "It's OK." "Nineteen centimetres. This one only has metric.
That's about seven and a half inches." "You were right." She purses her lips in a brief expression that seems to say, "I know my cock sizes." How did I ever think this girl was shy and innocent? "Now this is where it gets more interesting." She wraps the tape around the base of my cock, to measure its girth.
I'm amused at her clinical approach. The tape is still cold, but I throb to bursting point at the kinkiness of having Jo squatting in front of me in her sexy knickers, with her big jugs rolling around while she measures my cock.
"Fifteen!" "Is that good?" I've never heard anyone talk about circumference measurements before. I've heard that the average penis is 6 inches long, but I wouldn't have any idea what the average circumference is.
"Good? My wrist is only 14 centimetres. You're thicker than my wrist!" She wraps the tape around her fine wrist to prove it to me. Then the doorbell rings. "Shit!' says Jo, launching herself off her haunches and snatching up her clothes from the couch. "Get dressed! Quick!" We both scramble to get dressed.
The doorbell rings again. Then Jo's phone buzzes with a text message. She looks at it while she forces her heel into a shoe. "It's Lisa.
She's forgotten her key. Thank God for that, or she would have walked right in on us." I am nearly dressed, but Jo is still grappling with her bra. "You have to hide in the laundry. If Lisa sees that we've been here on our own, she'll get suspicious and she'll tell Tabatha and you'll get in trouble." She's got a point. She shows me in to the laundry.
Then I hear her letting Lisa in. They talk in the kitchen for a few minutes. I can detect raised voices and the tone of harsh words at the end, but I can't make out the words. Then it sounds like Lisa is going to her room. It is pitch black in the laundry. Even as my eyes get used to the darkness, I cannot see anything except the light coming under the door.
Suddenly the door opens and Jo slips in, closing it quickly, but quietly behind her. "Shhh! She's gone to her room," Jo whispers, "But you'll have to wait in here a bit longer, just in case she comes back." "Oh." I am resigned to the fact that our night is cut short and I will have to go home with a leaking cock and blue balls. "Don't worry," she says, finding me with her soft warm hands in the darkness, "I'll keep you company this time." Her soft warm breasts find me in the darkness too, as she presses up against me.
Then her soft warm lips find mine. Her tongue seems longer and stronger as she gives me a deep French kiss in the dark. We twist as we kiss in the darkness and she pushes me back against the door. But I fight back with my tongue and she compliments me when we finally break free. "That's better. You're a fast learner." My heart is pounding and my cock is straining in my pants again.
That was some kiss. I feel a bit disorientated in the blackness. When Jo pulls away from me briefly, I have no idea where she is. I can't see a thing. "This will have to be quick." Her whispering voice surprises me from below. "My parents could get home at any minute." I feel her hands on my belt, undoing my pants in the dark. She must be squatting in front of me, but even when I look down I see only vague shadows.
She pulls my jeans and my undies down roughly in the one motion. "I don't normally suck on a first date, either. But your. . um. . case," I feel her squeezing my erection as she says the word "case" "is exceptional." She kisses my balls and my shaft a few times, teasing me. She kisses the tip of my cock and is surprised by a big drop of pre-cum there. "Oh! You're very wet," she observes. I've never heard that word used to describe an aroused guy before.
It sounds odd. "That's your fault," I counter. "Guilty." I feel the excruciating tingle of nerves in the tip of my penis as she tastes the drop of fluid with the tip of her tongue. "Salty.
I've never tasted pre-cum before. It tastes nice. I want some more." I reach down and press my fingers hard into the base of my cock where it passes through my scrotum. I learned to do this when I was edging. It squeezes out more lubrication when I need it. I can feel the rush as fluid travels up my urethra.
"Here you go." Jo almost squeals with delight as more fluid oozes out of me onto her waiting tongue. "Mmmmm. Fresh, salty, essence of Andy on tap!" We giggle in the darkness and then she gets serious.
The head on my cock is fully flared and her lips feel their way over it and engulf it. Her mouth is warm and wet and I moan quietly with pleasure. Her lips press tightly around my shaft on the way down and catch on the head on the way out.
Her tongue licks at my frenulum. In the darkness, there is only my cock and her mouth. I am in the moment and enjoying this. It is heavenly pleasure. She has to bend the banana back to her mouth and he doesn't want to bend. She takes it a long way into her mouth. Further than Tabatha. My cock presses against the roof of her mouth and I hear her begin to gag when it gets to the back.
"Normally, I can take it all the way down my throat. But yours bends up too much." I ponder the word "normally". It suggests a lot of cocks. I quite like that idea. She seems to be able to read my mind in the darkness. "I'm not as much of a slut as you seem to think, Andy." She stops sucking. "I didn't say anything. It sounds like you've got a lot more experience than me. I'm not judging you. I'm impressed." "Good." She starts sucking again. I reach down and hold the sides of her face in each hand while she sucks me.
My right hand instinctively reaches for her pony tail and my hips start to thrust. Tabatha told me off for trying to fuck her face, but Jo doesn't object. My orgasm starts to build and I wonder where she wants me to come and how we're going to clean up the mess in the dark. "I'm going to cum," I whisper. I expect her to pull away. But she doesn't. I come and I come and I come.
And she keeps sucking! And she swallows and she swallows and she swallows. I am holding her pretty face in the darkness and thrusting into her mouth with each spasm and I can't believe that she is taking it. It feels so good! I am stifling moans of ecstasy and trying to breathe without gasping and in the black silence of the cold tiled laundry all I can hear is the gentle gulp, gulp, gulp of Jo swallowing my heavy load and the hiss of air through her nose as she inhales sharply between gulps.
Gulp, gulp - hiss - gulp, gulp - hiss - gulp. . When I am finally finished my cock is still in her mouth and the mess is all gone. And I cannot believe what just happened. Still holding her face, I withdraw and kneel down to kiss her. I give her that passionate kiss of gratitude for the pleasure she has given me.
Her mouth is hot and wet from being fucked and she wants me to kiss the lips that have kissed my cock. "You swallowed! I can't believe you did that!" "It wasn't easy.
You kept coming after I expected you to stop. But at least you taste nice. I like the taste of your cum." I don't know why it gave me so much pleasure that Jo swallowed. But it did. I was giddy with joy. "It's getting late. You should go." Jo checks that the coast is clear and we sneak out the back door.
She comes with me outside to say good-bye. She kisses me and hugs her big breasts against me in a way that is hard to leave.
I try to think of things to ask her to prolong our good-bye. "I meant to ask you, what were you and Lisa arguing about?" "Lisa spotted the measuring tape. It's actually hers and she wanted to know what I was using it for. I told her I was measuring my wrist.
But she insisted on knowing why. She's always sticking her nose in where it's not wanted. I told her that a girl at school had said there was a boy at Xavier College with a cock that is thicker than her wrist." I snorted with laughter at her boldness. "Lisa hates the way I talk about boys and cocks and sex. I just said that to shut her up." "And did it?" "No, it didn't actually.
She asked if the girl was Tabatha." My heart stopped. "She said Tabatha told her she fucked a Xavier boy with a cock thicker than her wrist. But she won't tell Lisa who it is."