Teen
2003-03-14
I opened the door to my bedroom, and Tara followed me in. I had to push the door shut until it clicked, otherwise you could just push it open with no sound, which my mom always seemed to do at the most awkward moments. At least this way there was the warning of the doorknob turning. I sat on my bed and Tara sat on the floor. She picked up a super-ball and started tossing it from hand to hand. We chatted about school, camp, family, the usual, and then the conversation inevitably turned towards sex, as it always was wont to do. Tara, being somewhat more physically mature than most our age, tended to attract older guys, 18 or 18 There was one guy in particular that she was really into, a lean, muscular curly-blond haired guy that all the girls were in love with last summer at camp. I rolled my eyes as she went on about him. “I mean, Max is not so bright, but my god how I’d like to put my hands all over him. He’s got a fantastic ass!” she crowed. I complained about how the stupid good-looking guys ended up with the best-looking girls while I never ended up with anyone. Secretly, while I envied the attention he always seemed to get, I didn’t understand why an ass would ever be considered attractive. Yes, I was that naïve. “You’re so sweet and smart! I’m sure you’ll find someone special soon. ” Tara said. Very reassuring! Meanwhile, I had discovered the pleasures of touching myself a few weeks before, while sitting at the kitchen table reading a book in my pajamas one night.
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Thank god my mom didn’t come down the stairs and see what I was doing! I hadn’t started visualizing girls yet, just enjoying the innocent physical pleasure. My technique was still unpolished. I rubbed myself like boy scouts are taught to build a fire, or like swizzling one of those troll pencils with the wild hair we used to have in elementary school. Needless to say, I managed to rub myself raw on more than a few occasions. Tara smiled and threw the super-ball at me. I flinched, but caught it and flung it back at her. It hit her shoulder, and rolled down into the breast pocket of her shirt. She was wearing a loose-fitting unbuttoned shirt with a pointy collar, the kind you used to see cover-models on Flair magazine wearing in the mid-80’s. Under that was a white tank-top, tight enough to reveal the curve of her budding breasts. “Why don’t you come and get it?” she smirked, teasing me. “I will, you know!” I had no qualms wrestling, ripping, whatever it took to get that ball back. “I’m waiting!” she teased again. I jumped off the bed and reached for her pocket. She shielded herself with one arm and rolled over on her back, giggling. She tried pushing me away with her legs, but I squirmed my way on top of her, and pinned her left arm to the ground behind her head with my right arm.
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I managed to pin her right arm with my left leg, and forced my left hand into her pocket. My face was inches from hers, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. My teeth were clenched, and I grimaced as she freed her left hand and grabbed my wrist. I had two fingers on the super-ball, but no grip. I could feel her nipple through the fabric, and it quickly hardened. Suddenly I felt extremely hot and my body jerked slightly, a wave of something I’d never felt before washing over me. We were both motionless, me straddling her, my hand in her pocket, her hand gripping my wrist, my face still inches from her hot breath, which I could now hear as well as feel. Then she kissed my cheek. “Do you mind?” Tara asked me, her voice slightly husky. “I think you’re really sweet, and I know I keep talking about Max, but I don’t care about him the way I care about you.
” All the words poured out in one big breath. My heart was racing and my face bright red as I tried to process the events of the previous minute. “That’s the first time anyone has ever kissed me,” I said, matter-of-factly. I looked at her searchingly. She blushed, jumped up, pushing me off of her, and leapt onto my bed.
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“Your bed is so much springier than mine!” she said, obviously trying to change the subject. We bounced on the bed for a few minutes, enjoying our occasional touches and laughing as if nothing had happened. Eventually we grew tired and lay next to each other, on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. A tiny spider was busily scurrying towards the corner, where two walls met the ceiling. There was the beginning of a small web, and the spider was clearly oblivious to her observers. “I wonder if she knows we’re watching her,” Tara exhaled, whispering as though speaking too loudly would distract the spider from her work. “I don’t know. Do spiders even have eyes?” I replied ignorantly. “Of course they have eyes, silly!”We were silent for a few minutes, watching the spider, our breathing slow and shallow, in unison, as though conducted by the spider’s machinations. Unexpectedly, Tara put her hand on mine and squeezed. Our eyes remained locked on the spider. I felt my heart beating faster. Tara then put her hand on my shorts, on the front of my thigh. My breathing quickened. She slowly slid her hand toward my crotch, and I started to harden.
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The only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding in my head, so I licked my lips to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Tara put two fingers on the bulge in my shorts, and started rubbing up and down my length. It felt like electric sparks shooting through me as my muscles spasmed twice. Then the motion of Tara’s hand stopped, and she slid her hand under my waistband. Almost as a reflex, I lifted my hips slightly and she slid my shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, revealing my newly sprouted hairs and proudly erect member. Tara resumed her two-fingered stroking, only this time on my bare skin. I couldn’t believe how incredible her hand felt on me. Tara continued wordlessly, and we both refused to look at each other, the spider nominally holding our attention in the corner on the ceiling. My eyes were pointed towards the mini-drama above, but they were glazed over as I concentrated on the beautiful touch of Tara’s hand. As Tara played and explored me, I let my hand drift toward her lap. She was wearing shorts, too, and my pinky eventually brushed against the fabric covering her thigh. Tara’s lack of reaction seemed to be the green light to go on, so I boldly placed my hand on her stomach, and slid four fingers under her waistband. I felt her pubic hair, fine and silky, and slightly damp. I pushed my hand under further, and explored her mound. My middle finger being the longest encountered her slit first, and I gasped slightly as I felt her moistness.
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I started making small circular motions at the top of her slit, which Tara definitely enjoyed. Her hand slowed on my cock, and she started moaning softly. “Mmmmmmmmm,” she cooed, and slightly shifted her body to adjust to the angle of my finger. Tara’s eyelids grew heavy, her lips parted, and her breathing grew louder. “Oh, oh, oh,” she said, which caused my cock to spring back to life, and in turn, caused Tara’s hand to grip it firmly, then start stroking my length, up and down briskly, as if making up for the lost time while I was exploring her.
I continued rubbing the top of her slit, and she was getting wetter and wetter. I slid my finger inside her slightly, and she gasped. I continued the small circles, occasionally teasing her opening by sliding a finger in and out. We were both concentrating intently on our two complementary tasks: pleasing one another, and feeling our own pleasure. As Tara’s hand moved quicker and quicker, so did my circles on the top of her slit, and my probing finger inside her entered deeper with each thrust. All of a sudden, Tara drew in a sharp breath and squeezed her legs together. I grabbed her crotch, my middle finger deep inside her and the palm of my hand grinding against her clit. She screamed “Oh my god!” and squeezed my cock so hard that I felt all the muscles in my body tense, and I shot a huge load of white, milky cum up onto my shirt. Tara writhed wordlessly for about 18 seconds, rubbing her thighs together as she came in waves, her toes curling and her body tensing. Slowly her motions slowed, her breathing returned to normal, and she appeared to relax back into the bed.
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She let out a long breath. All the while, Tara continued stroking my cock, firmly but gently, milking the last few drops out of me, as I languidly played with her wet slit and pubic hair. We lay still for several minutes, only our hands in motion, gradually getting slower and slower, our eyes still focused on the spider’s activities. “I wonder how many bugs she eats in a day. What if she can’t catch something?” I pondered out loud, breaking the silence. “I don’t know,” Tara replied. “I have no idea I could go without having my hunger satisfied. ”Just then I heard the tell-tale click of the door-knob turning. I jumped up and pulled my shorts back up, ran to the door, pushed one hand against it, and yelled “Just a sec!!” “OK honey. I just wanted to tell you that Tara’s father is here to pick her up,” my mom called through the crack in the door. I looked over at Tara, and she had managed to arrange herself and sit up presentably on the bed. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door. “Thank you Mrs. Chisholm. Tell dad I’ll be down in 2 minutes,” Tara politely said to my mother.
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My mother retreated down the stairs, and we could hear muffled adult voices in the front hall. I turned back towards the hall, looking out of my room, embarrassed about what had just happened. The super-ball suddenly hit my in the small of my back. “Ow!” I cried, and turned around to see a smiling Tara standing guiltily in front of the bed. She ran towards me and chased me down the stairs. “Hi baby. Did you and Jason have fun?” Tara’s dad asked as she leapt from the 4th step and landed on the floor, sliding into the front hall. “Of course!” Tara exclaimed. “Jason’s my best friend. ”“OK, well let’s get a move on. Your mother won’t be pleased if we dawdle. ”Tara said bye and dashed in front of her father to their car. I watched her get in the passenger-side seat, and her father pulled the car onto the street. As he shifted into drive, Tara smiled and waved, and then I saw her lean over to turn on the car radio. I went back up to my room and lay on my bed, quiet for a few minutes.
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Then I noticed the spider, silently sitting in the middle of her now-completed web, perfect in form and function. .
