Date: Fri, 5 May 2006 17:50:29 +0100
From: Mozzie <mozzie@zalau.ro>
Subject: Suzie # 4

This is the story of a girl's sexual awakening and her experiences and
those of her friends. How her curiousity and self-doubt bring her to
explore new heights in pleasure. The story will develop to show instances
of masturbation, M/F, M/F/F, F/F, M/M - if any of this is likely to cause
you offence, please do not read on ....

By the time I reached my room I knew what I had agreed to and I completely
did not mind. I could think of a hundred reasons why we had been so lucky
to get away with what we did the previous night, and a hundred reasons why
we could get caught if we tried again tonight. I quickly dismissed each and
every one, desperately thinking of how we couldn't possibly get caught.

It was already quite late. I figured I would wait until an hour or so after
my parents had gone to bed and then sneak along to his room. I stared
blankly at the TV a while, had a shower and got ready to go to bed. I set
my alarm for two hours and slid under my quilt. I felt daring, I felt
alive. A part of me was ready for wild abandon, the other part racked with
guilt and shame of what I was becoming.

The whore in me was showing through. I couldn't be bothered with my
nightshirt. I dug into the back of the drawer for some clean panties. I
wanted to treat him somehow, I really got turned on looking at his bulges
and bumps all neatly packaged in crisp white linen, I hoped to return the
favour.

I had found a Christmas present. I think one of my friends from school had
bought them. It was the sort of present that you bought trying to impress,
trying to suggest this was the kind of thing that surely everyone wore. It
was nothing brazen. They were just some pink panties, but they were high
cut and although not mind-blowing sexy were about as daring as I had. They
were still in the packet.

I smoothed them on and slid into bed, feeling the quilt brush against my
body as I slid inside.

I heard my parents go into their room and settled down to wait an hour or
so. Artemka wasn't that patient. Almost immediately my door opened slightly
and a body slid around it. It was so soon my eyes hadn't even adjusted to
the darkness yet. I switched on my bedside light.

Artemka raised his hand to eyes to shield them from the sudden glare. He
was only wearing his briefs. He looked like he was already quite excited,
but had adjusted his stiff organ inside his underwear so it wasn't all
curled up as before. A tube was clearly outlined in the front of the crisp
white material, poking up to the waistband.

I started to speak, but Artemka put his finger to his lips and giggled
almost like a mischievous little imp. Without a second's hesitation he took
the two steps to my bed, lifted the quilt and slipped into my bed. I turned
to talk to him. I wanted to explain that it was too soon, that my parents
could still come around, but it was too late. He kissed me gently on the
lips and nothing else mattered.

He was trying to copy what I had done to him earlier. Obviously he had
tried to work out some super routine for me. His kisses soon left my mouth
and ran down my neck to my breasts. As soon as his lips touched my nipples
I could feel the faintest glimmer of that hot river. I gasped and
involuntarily twitched to the touch. His reaction was immediate. Suddenly
he was sucking hard, his tongue flicking my nipples, sometimes his teeth
gently nipping each side. My breasts started tingling, like an electric
current zinging between them.

His hand slid quickly down my stomach and over the front of my panties. He
certainly wasn't hanging around. He rubbed his fingers over my mound and
then under me. I had been lying with my legs together but parted them
willingly to let his hand between. His hand quickly retraced its path back
to the waistband and slid down inside. Within two minutes of him walking in
the door, his fingers were probing the entrance to my vagina.

His fingers started to push into me, while his other hand was awkwardly
pulling my panties down. I realised that, at this rate, it was all going to
be over very quickly and was determined to take part in what was
happening. I think he was so obsessed with trying out his new sexual
awakening; he simply wanted to shoot his load inside me.

I reached across and took a firm hold of his penis. It was poking under the
waistband of his briefs, so I slid them off. It was quite easy as he was
trying to roll on top of me by that time. He was trying to position himself
between my legs, but I kept hold of his erection.

He started to push his fingers deeper into me, faster and
faster. Unconsciously I started to pump his rigid tool. The faster his
fingers went, the faster I pumped. It turned into a sort of race. It was a
very short race. Only a minute or so after I had removed his briefs,
Artemka gasped and I felt a hot mass splatter over my stomach.

I really couldn't believe it, it couldn't have been more than three or four
minutes between him walking in the door and him ejaculating all over my
stomach. I was sure it wasn't selfishness; I doubted this because he seemed
to be such a genuinely considerate and understanding guy. I started to
wonder if it had something to do with his inexperience or maybe simply not
being able control himself.

Artemka rolled off me and lay on his back. In desperation to get something
out of this, I reached over to touch his penis. It was not rigid anymore;
it was rubbery and sort of half-hard. That wonderful straight rod was now a
curved tube lolling heavily across his stomach. He was breathing heavily
but slowly regaining control. My stomach was splashed with cum; one long
dribble was running down my breast, I would so have loved to have had such
a powerful spurt inside me. He looked half asleep but still managed a
half-wispered "Thank You" and, for the first time in my short sex life, I
felt disappointed, let down.

It seemed that I spent most of my time in the shower lately, but I had to
get that slimy goo off me. The hot spray brought back memories of the
previous night and, with that, a thought.

Yesterday, Artemka had cum very quickly the first time. I was sure I had
only pumped his shaft once before he had blown his load all over his bed
then, just a few minutes later, he was back in action and he lasted longer
the second time. I was sure that Tun had done the same, even though his
orgasms had been some time apart. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to
happen; maybe I had been too fast to get cleaned up, maybe I should have
waited for Artemka to make the next move.

I dashed back to my room, hoping I hadn't spoilt the mood. Artemka was
still in my bed, but now fast asleep. I slid in beside him and cuddled
him. Watching his young lips part ever so slightly as he silently breathed
out. For that moment I felt content enough to watch him, his face so deeply
at rest. I can't ever remember seeing anyone so relaxed and at peace as
that cute Ukrainian did at that instant.

Almost passing the time I slid my fingertips up and down his chest, in
small circles then in long loops. I had no particular aim. I was simply
enjoying the moment of having possession of my beautiful boy. It seemed
quite natural to allow my fingers to stray lower and lower, feeling the
hard ridges of muscles laying just a fraction under a thin layer of fat. My
forefinger lingered around his belly button.

The quilt was bothersome and was going to get in my way. Without much care
I simply threw it back towards the base of the bed. His cock was there,
smaller than I had ever seen it before. I touched it. It was a small limp
tube; it didn't really even feel rubbery like it had before. I swore
inwardly that my chances were ruined for the night.

I now understood why Tun had kept pulling my hand away from him as we were
getting well into it that evening. He obviously had more experience than
poor Artemka. He was stopping me from making him ejaculate too soon, making
the moment last as long as he could bear or I would allow.

That last thought aroused me a little, having such power over a boy, having
him helpless in my hands. Then I felt a little sorry for Artemka, having
his virginity take by someone who didn't know what they were doing and who
couldn't guide him in how to get both of us the most of the
experience. Looking at him, in his contented deep sleep, he didn't seem too
bothered, but I knew deep in my heart that he could have got so much more
out it. I should have been able to help him, help both of us. I had failed
him.

His briefs were still around one of his feet. I clambered down to unhook
them. I wondered if I should try to get them back on him, wondering if I
could do it without waking him. They seemed so sort of heavy-duty. I
examined them, turned them over a few times and held them up to he light
from my bedside lamp. It seemed only natural to put them on.

They fitted quite well but were a little tight for me. The material was
really thick compared to my normal panties, it was pressing firmly over
everything that it touched. I could understand how it could stem a boy's
erection.  I smoothed both hands down my stomach and over the briefs. That
felt good, my hands followed those thick front seams all the way under my
mound and back up. The material at the crotch was a little loose; I figured
there was more cloth there to accommodate the boys extra bits. My hands ran
down again, this time smoothing down my sides and over my bum. The extra
tight material felt soooo good, not like my lightweight panties that would
surely have moved down with the pressure of my self-caress.  Again and
again I repeated the motion, gradually moving my hands higher and higher,
until the long slide started at my breasts.

I explored the opening in one of those front seams. I couldn't figure out
what it was for. Surely a boy's penis couldn't be bent around and forced to
go out of that ? It would have to a mystery for now, the only thing that I
knew is that my finger couldn't reach my clit from it. I had found, almost
since my first encounter with Tun, that I was interested in boys' underwear
but now I seemed to have moved this into some sort of perverted fetish. I
was sure this couldn't be right, but it felt so good I couldn't stop to do
more than make a note that I was becoming a pervert.

Both of my hands slid around my breasts, sliding harshly to move my
hardening nipples around, forcing them up and down as each stroke
passed. Without knowing when, at some stage, a lovely warm glow had started
in my breasts. I changed tactic a little, one hand kept up the abuse on my
nipples while the other reached down to press firmly against the cloth that
covered my clit. The warm glow started in my mound as a separate source of
contentment. I rubbed harder and harder trying to feel the shape of my
clit, the outline of my vagina, to force my hand onto them. My lust spread,
my breasts were the next for the rough treatment.

My whole body was writhing on the bed, hushed guilt-ridden gentle moans
escaping my lips. My breasts were getting longer and more abuse than I had
ever given them before. I was pinching and squeezing my nipples, almost
like I was trying to milk them. The warm glow from my breasts moved down to
meet the glow coming up from between my legs. They met to form a swirling
mass, gradually getting hotter and hotter high in my stomach.

I jumped as a hand touched mine. I had completely forgotten about the boy
that shared my bed. He was awake and had been watching me arouse myself
until he could lie idle no more. His head moved across to settle on my
breast and kissed the nipple. My hands clamped down on the back of his
head, prompting him to suck harder and harder, his teeth brushed and nipped
at my nipple. The swirling hot streams grew rapidly to form a maelstrom of
hot liquid circling between my breasts and groin. He moved rapidly between
one breast and the other, the boy was learning.

Artemka's hand roved up my leg. Even in my mind blown state I knew he had
seen me masturbating wearing his briefs, but he didn't think it so
important as to say anything. Instead his hand moved up the front of them
and pressed hard. I don't think he had become so experienced overnight, I
am sure it was just luck. His probing finger pushed directly down on my
clit, pushing it straight back along its length. It was like a fuse, no
more like a spark, a flash of tension that rushed up to that swirling
river. The whole hot mass changed direction and rushed back along that fuse
to blow my clit apart.

I was writhing on the bed. One hand still on the back of Artemka's head,
the other grabbing the bed sheet to my side. I was bucking in the bed, my
back arched and my hips pushing harder and harder against his hand. I was
groaning and gasping as the torrent of hot pressure kept gushing from my
clit. Both of my hands moved to his head and pulled it up until our lips
met. Raw lust pushed my lips onto his and our tongues battled for the right
to control the air supply.

Despite all that was happening, his hand kept pressing on that vital
spot. Pressing in and out against my hardened clit, each press milking that
never-ending hot torrent more and more. I didn't know what to do with my
hands; they were roving with minds of their own from his head to his
back. A vague moment of consciousness made my left hand stray down his
side, around his hip bone and down. My fingers collided with his shaft,
rigid and straining once more.

I broke our kiss and, almost pushing him aside, dived down the bed for his
lovely young cock. Absolute unbridled lust was in control now. My hand
formed a fist around his hard hot organ and pumped it a few times; then I
lowered my head to it. I looked back at Artemka as my tongue moved forward.

Artemka had lost his hold on that magic spot as I turned and was now facing
my crotch clad in his own briefs. He was rubbing my mound through the thick
cloth again, pressing and probing, reaching back to slide a firm push
almost from my anus all the way forward to my clit. His other hand was
trying to reach down to my breast, but seemed to give up and smoothed my
bum and leg. I looked back; the boy was staring down intently at what was
happening at his own crotch.

His tool was hard. The tube of skin was stretched all the way back and the
head was large. I could have sworn it was larger than yesterday, but I
wasn't in the frame of mind to take many notes. It was deep purple and
shiny. I couldn't pull the skin very far forward, there was only enough to
go about two-thirds of the way up. My tongue just brushed against it and it
jumped.

I just love that throbbing sensation. I simply can't get enough of it. I
relaxed my grip a little and licked again, wondering at the powerful
pulsing that followed it. I licked again, allowing the full length of my
tongue to slowly slide its rogue surface over the head of Artemka's swollen
straining rod. It pushed up forcibly against my pressing tongue throughout
the entire lick. I heard a grunt from behind me and saw his legs
tremble. Inwardly I sniggered to myself, I was in control. A gentle kiss of
the tip brought about a violent twitch, I wondered if he was anywhere near
ejaculating and, lesson learned, he wasn't going to stop me bringing him
off early. I let him have a break.

I turned around again, kneeling at his hip and facing him. He hadn't kept
up his attention to my mound. My tonguing had easily distracted him. I
gently stroked his straining shaft that was standing a few inches off his
smooth stomach beside me; looking so rock hard it must have been painful.

I was still wearing his briefs. I pulled them down. It was actually quite
difficult I didn't realise quite how severe the elastic waistband was but,
once I had got them down past my knees, they kicked off. I sort of prowled
up and over him on all fours, kissing his body as it passed under
me. Eventually I got into the position I wanted to try again. The position
that I had used so naturally with Tun. I was sitting astride Artemka's
thighs, my mound pushing gently against his balls.

I started my pelvis thrusts again, down and forward. Sliding my clit and
the top of my vagina against the base of his shaft. I tried my best to keep
control, to keep moving slowly a little further up with each thrust, but
failed. Within maybe two thrusts I was sliding his whole length along as
much of my lips as I could get in contact with it. I paused and felt him
throb against me. That did it for me. The hot whirlpool switched to fast
cycle deep inside me and it was coursing down to my mound.

I reached down to lift his cock and raised myself up. It took a little
doing but eventually I guided that almost glowing head in between my wet
and waiting lips. I let go but held it there for an instant just using my
vagina lips, his straining tip marginally intruding into me. Artemka was
half smiling at me, his glazed eyes made him look like he was almost
crying. I had my hands pushing down on his hips, I could feel him trying to
thrust up inside me but I held him there.

I am not sure whose frustration I decided to relieve, but after a few
seconds of holding his shaft just inside me, I suddenly slid down onto
him. He jolted, his whole body nearly jacknifed. He sat up and held me
close, his lips finding my breasts instantly. Then I started my pelvic
thrusts once again. It was only a few moments before I realised that up and
down was far better than down and forward. I lifted myself up, staring down
at my crotch as I rose. I watch that smooth hard tube, glistening and slick
from my pouring juices, slide out from under my mound.  Suddenly his
erection popped out of me and sprung back against his stomach.

Within a second, I had grabbed that slippery shaft and guided it back
inside me. No hesitation this time, I pushed straight down on it until our
pubic hair met. When I had gone down as far as I could, I bore down a
little further and rotated my hips, grinding my pelvis around left and
right around my boy's lovely smooth erection.

He was lying back on the rumpled bed again. I sat still for an instant,
allowing my hands to stray over his smooth chest and flat taut stomach,
enjoying the tension that racked his whole body. My hands slid down his
slides, over his hipbones, before following the joint of my thighs on his
hips and down to where our groins were meshed together in a hot damp pool.
My hands kept moving, brushing my clit and then running up my stomach
before rubbing over both my breasts. Then my hands slid back down with a
more urgent task in mind.

I started to rise up. My horse riding lessons not wasted. I reached
underneath feeling up his shaft as it slid out of me. My juices were
dribbling down its smooth length. My fingers curved round, touching my own
lips and probing his length as I lifted up. Probing until I felt the thick
ridge of his cock head just starting to come out of me. I didn't want to
lose him again, not now, I smoothly dropped down onto him again.

I rose once more, feeling him again as he slid out of me. I tried to get
hold of him, to form a fist and pump him inside me, but I gave up, there
wasn't time. He was reaching forward, his hands behind my hips trying to
move me up and down. I shared his urgency, his desperation. I started to
ride him; I couldn't hold a steady rhythm but simply slid on and off his
length. The hot metal surged from my groin to my throat and came cascading
down to my gaping hole, smashing through and taking my breath with it as it
went.

I slowed down to steady my senses, Artemka had his neck bent so his head
pushed back, his mouth was open, I could swear he wasn't breathing. His
hands were resting on my hips. His back was arched, pushing his smooth
chest upwards. His stomach strained towards me, the lines of his muscles
now standing out in slight relief to his otherwise smooth skin. His whole
body was rigid, his buttocks squeezed in with tension. I didn't know if he
was holding back or just at his peak, whatever, his whole body was
straining to shoot his load and I wanted it.

Seeing him so desperate, so aroused, drove me on. The sight alone started
my whole body trembling, not the smashing wave that I had had before. This
was series of rapid small tremblings. I could feel the lips of my vagina
twitching and my clit pulsing. Hundreds of small tremors played around my
mound as I started to slide smoothly up and down Artemka's tool.

It was mere seconds. Artemka breathed out a long-held gasp and I felt a
hard liquid spurt pulse up deep inside me. His rod like penis convulsed
distorting the gripping, clinging walls of my sex, before a second gush
washed into me. His orgasm overtook me. I was helpless, all I could do was
lie back still with his penis embedded in me.

I lay there struggling to control my body, to regain my breath. I have no
idea how long. Realistically it could not have been as long as a minute,
but it seemed like hours. I was smoothing my hand down Artemka's calf, the
only part of him I could reach. He moved slightly and I felt his penis fall
out of me. The bed swayed slightly. Artemka was on all fours towering over
me. He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips "Thank you so much"
he said in his quiet and lilting way, "is OK?" My poor boy was worried he
was failing me.

I smiled and gasped "is good, very very good" I repeated, mimicking his
English. He rolled over and landed on his feet on the far side of the
bed. He picked up his briefs; they were damp with my juices. I thought they
would have been drenched but it seems the outpouring of hot juices was more
sensation than an actual deluge. He looked at them a little comically,
almost wondering how he could wear them now. He smiled a wonderful smile,
leaned across to kiss me again and asked if he could stay all night.

Realisation of where we were, in particular how close we were to my
parents, came smashing back. Along with it came the guilt and
worry. Desperately I tried to remember if we had made a lot of noise, I
don't think we had. There wasn't a lot of movement anywhere else. Common
sense returned as my heartbeat slowed and I started to apologise, to
explain why he couldn't possibly wake up in my bed tomorrow morning. He
smiled, almost like he had known the answer but thought he would try
anyway. I brought the matter to an end, fearful of him trying to persuade
me to allow him to stay, by suggesting he go clean up.

He was in the shower when mum tapped on my door. She didn't come in but
reminded me to get up early tomorrow morning as we were going into the city
with Artemka to go shopping. I made the expected grunting
acknowledgement. My heart was pounding. I could hear every beat in my
ears. I couldn't breath. If my mother had remembered her message just five
minutes earlier, she would have been outside the door at the peak of our
sex - there was no way she would not have heard from there. Just two
minutes earlier she would have met a naked boy sneaking out of my room, my
bed looked like a bombsite and I was completely naked.

She returned to her room saying goodnight to Artemka through the bathroom
door.  Within a minute, there was a tap at my door. Artemka opened the door
a fraction and peered round, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, "your
mother, it is OK ?" he asked. He must have realised how close we had been
to getting caught too. I nodded in obvious relief and motioned for him to
move away from the door, terrified that mum would remember some other small
detail that couldn't wait. He understood my urgency and, almost comically
said "phew!" grinned and disappeared, closing he door slowly behind him.

I straightened my room. I had to remake my bed from scratch. I put on my
nightshirt and some clean panties. The room didn't seem to smell of
anything, but I knew I would be the last to notice if it did, so I opened
the window and slid deep under my quilt.

Sleep didn't so much arrive that night. It more sort of washed over me ...

to be continued ......