by Jenelle Watson
Cindy Thomason reminds me of a young Meg Ryan. She keeps her blond hair short, and seems to have a long neck. She’s quite short and thin, although her breasts are surprisingly large. She wanted me to write her story, so here it is. Enjoy!
Well, Jenelle, here I am. Let’s do this, maybe some people will enjoy reading this book. Maybe people will even learn something about how sex has helped me become so successful.
My life, at least the part you’d find interesting, started shortly after my eighteenth birthday. Until then, I didn’t think much about sex at all. Then, I went crazy!
My older brother, Carl, bought me a gag gift for my birthday. A penis-shaped vibrator. Really! I knew what it was, and had no plans of using it, thank you very much!
He was trying to get me to open it later in my room, but not understanding what was up, I opened the package in the dining room, right in front of my parents. I’m sure I was blushing!
I think he was quite embarrassed also. Perhaps to salvage the situation, he rummaged around in a drawer and came up with four AA batteries. He opened the package and stuck the batteries into the vibrator. He turned it on, and handed it to me. Before I could think, I grabbed it, and turned it off, becoming quite put out by the whole thing.
The funny thing is, when I held it for that brief moment before I found the switch, I felt the vibration in my hand. Unfortunately I imagined actually using the thing for a brief moment, and suddenly felt a strong twinge in my lower body.
No big deal. I set the damn thing down, and went on to enjoy the rest of my birthday dinner with my parents and Carl.
It ended up in a drawer in my dresser for two days, entirely forgotten. Then, I was reading an ebook on my phone while laying on my bed, and there was a somewhat sexual passage in the book. Without thinking about it, my hand was between my legs. I mean, I’m no stranger to masturbation. But anyway, as I was idly rubbing myself down there, I thought of the vibrator, and dismissed the thought right away. Well, no, actually, I tried to dismiss the thought. Instead, I kept thinking, no one will know, I’m in my room, and the door is locked.
As I’m sure you can guess, I walked over to the drawer, and pulled it open. To my surprise, the vibrator wasn’t there and I was disappointed. Where had I put it? Now, I wanted it!
It turns out it was in the next drawer down. By now, I was pretty juicy, so it was an easy matter to place the pointed end of the purple vibrator against my clit, and then push it slightly into my pussy. Hmm, it felt kind of nice. Fulfilling. I liked the idea of stretching around the smooth plastic. I had seldom, if ever, put anything that big around in my pussy. Oh, I played with fountain pens and the random hairbrush handle, but never really got into that sort of thing.
Then I turned the vibrator on. Oh my god! I had no idea! I had an orgasm right away. I’ll bet I don’t have to tell you I used that thing like five more times during the next week.
Now, maybe I should tell you a bit more about me. Like, why I keep my hair short. It started with my grandfather’s death when I was eight years old. He was a car mechanic. He owned his own two-bay shop. He willed me his tools. I know, a weird thing to give a little girl, right?
At the time, I didn’t understand, and didn’t really care. The two big tool boxes took up a lot of space in my family’s garage. Every now and then, I’d pull out a few sockets, a ratchet, maybe some extensions, and assemble the pieces. They didn’t really mean anything to me. I just liked the heavy metal things, and the way they fit together.
One day, I watched my dad fixing our car with his own tools, and I got a clear picture of what my tools were for. I started taking more of an interest. By the time I was eleven, I could take our lawnmower entirely apart, put it back together, and it still ran!
When I was fourteen, people in the neighborhood were bringing me things to fix. It might be a bicycle, a sewing machine, or a blender. I didn’t always get them right, but for the most part, people were quite happy with what I could fix. I guess they should have been, considering I wasn’t charging any money.
Of course, at sixteen, I had to have a car. I had finally figured out to charge people money for fixing things. More and more often, I was repairing cars, and getting pretty good money. So, it was easy for me to buy a car of my own. Now, the car I bought was a goofy old Land Rover, the kind you had to double-clutch. I liked it because it seemed more ‘mechanical’ to me than most cars.
By then, I was becoming known as a crazy girl. The one who drives the faded olive green Land Rover, the one who wears mechanic’s boots, dresses in coveralls, and the one who, well, thinks for herself.
Something else happened right after I turned eighteen. I was facing a choice. The main option was to go to college, like my parents wanted. I had thought mechanical engineering would be a good thing to study. Or, I could start a business. My parent’s weren’t excited about the idea, but they said they’d support me. Guess which way I went?
Right. The very day after my eighteenth birthday I started looking for a building to rent. I found building that had been an old-fashioned gas station. It hadn’t been converted to a convenience store, so it still had the old bays and lifts. There was a lot of parking around it, and it had good exposure, being at a busy intersection. I had plenty of money with all the cars, bicycles, tractors and things I had been fixing, so I went ahead and rented it.
This was right around the time Carl gave me that fucking vibrator.
Between the two things, my life was taking a major turn. It was surprisingly easy to move my tools into the shop and get things started. I didn’t know much about business, but it all worked out. That’s because I had a sensitivity for the people I worked for. When someone’s transmission goes out, they are really hard-pressed to come up with $2,000. So, I’d get a good junkyard transmission for $300, and put it in for maybe $500 total. I’d end up working an hour or so, and pick up $200. People told people who told people. I was busy right from the start. My career was guaranteed.
For the first few months, I didn’t even have a sign on the place. The phone number was my cellphone. I didn’t even know I was supposed to have a business permit or collect sales tax, until the city and state, not so kindly, let me know. Still, those hurdles were minor compared to the fucking vibrator.
The only hurdle the business presented was me. I mean, look at me. I have these huge boobs. I never liked them when they grew in. I kind of wanted to be thinner on top, like a guy. I figured there’s no place for tits on a mechanic. Pretty funny thinking, right?
Well, to this day, I don’t know if looking a little bit like Dolly Parton, well, OK, they’re not that huge – is a good thing or not. I do believe they brought me more business.
On the one hand, most of the customers who didn’t already know me, or hear about me, thought I was the mechanic’s girlfriend. “A sweet little thing like you couldn’t possibly fix cars,” they’d say. I mean, one old fellow actually said those words. No doubt every one else thought it. On the other hand, I think a lot of guys brought their cars to me because of my silly tits. Now, that’s certainly not how I’d do business. I mean, if you have two dentists, for example, and one has a great build with strong shoulders and all that, and the other one is a short, fat, balding guy, would you want the good-looking dentist working on your teeth just because of his looks?
So here’s the thing: While I was fixing cars during the day, my mind would turn toward that vibrator of mine, and I’d start thinking about having a session with it, and could hardly focus for the rest of the day. Around five, I’d get home, lock the door, and got to work, giving myself a nice orgasm or three. This happened every single day. And in the mornings, too. I was supposed to open at 9am, but sometimes I’d be late because I hadn’t quite finished wanking in time.
One thing led to another. I’d be playing with my vibrator, and started looking on the Internet to find out about this new-found solo sexuality. Of course, I’d see all sorts of ‘real’ sex too. And that took me to the next level. I started getting a notion that I needed something more. Some ‘real’ sex. I mean, I was eighteen after all, and I had never been fucked, let along touched, licked, anything. The mind can be a funny thing. At first I thought such activities would be interesting. But before long, they seemed necessary. Absolutely necessary!
Now you may have figured out by now that I’m quite a bit of a rebel. That has brought me some great prizes. For instance, here I was at eighteen years old, already with a good career and making real money. That’s because I took a non-traditional path, becoming a mechanic-business owner, instead of the long haul that most people take. Being a rebel has also cost me. I didn’t date much in high school. The couple of times I went out with guys were awkward, and amounted to nothing.
That left me with a dilemma. I was now interested in dating a guy. Strike that. What I was interested in was discovering sex with a guy. I guess I’m not all that romantic. Maybe I’m on the Asperger’s spectrum somewhere. Well if so, I’ve been happy, so it’s all good.
So, how do you date a guy, how do you get in bed with him, if you don’t even know where to begin? I figured the best bet would be to talk to the only guy I really know, Carl, my brother.
Carl is three years older than me, and so at twenty-one, he seemed very worldly wise. He was studying computer programming, and I was sure he’d make a good programmer. He had a steady girlfriend. For the first time, it occurred to me what they must be doing by now. Funny, I hadn’t thought about that before. They’re probably fucking. He’s putting his dick in her, and she’s experiencing, well, whatever it is a girl experiences. Some sort of orgasmic sensations, I figured. Probably even better than the solo sex that I had been enjoying. Maybe way better.
So one afternoon, Carl was home from college and visiting me in my shop. He was rolling around on a wheeled stool I had in there, kind of bothering me by crashing into things from time to time, rolling over air hoses, and putting things in the wrong places, but I was still happy to have him around. For a while, there were no customers in the shop. They always seem to show up first thing in the morning to bring cars in, and right before closing time to pick them up. This was my opportunity.
“Carl, how do I get a guy?”
“I mean, well, you know me. I’m good with a wrench…”
“You sure are!”
“…but not so good with relationships. Hell, I’ve never actually had a relationship, and now I want one.”
“Just like that? What made you decide that all of a sudden?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“But if you did know, what would it be?”
Damn him. He has a way of bringing out my inner thoughts. Maybe he should have studied psychology instead. “Well, I’ve never had sex.”
“Woah, Cindy! OK, so why do you want sex all off a sudden?”
“Do I have to answer that?” I asked, mildly chagrined. No doubt my face, between the smudges of grease, showed bright red cheeks.
“No Cin, not if you don’t want to.”
Damn him again! He knew exactly how to get me to admit things. He always did, even when we were kids.
“Well, remember the vibrator?”
“Well, OK… well, um,.. I’ve been using it. Great gift by the way!”
Laughing, he said, “Ah, I think I see. Now that you’re orgasming, you want more. Is that it?”
“I take the fifth.”
More laughter from Carl, and I joined in.
“Well, yes, Carl, I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.”
Getting more serious now, he responded, “Well, the first thing is romance. Normally, it’s the girls who want more romance, but you’ve always been good at reversing things, at seeing the other side of the coin. And that’s a compliment, by the way.”
“I mean,” he went on. “You don’t just walk up to a guy and fuck him. You start with finding a guy you can talk to. Someone who understands you and that you understand in return. From there, you take your time, until the day comes that you realize if you could never see him ever again, you’d be very sad.”
“So you’re saying love comes first?”
“Of course, but you know that.”
Over the next few days, I thought about his advice a lot. While I was thinking about it, something went horribly wrong. In the middle of an afternoon, a well-dressed man walked into my shop, and started taking pictures. He didn’t ask or anything. Just started flashing his camera grabbing pictures of the building, my workbench, even me. I was like ‘What the fuck?’
I walked up to him, noticing he wasn’t much older than me, and asked what was up. He looked a bit shy, but said he was taking pictures for his boss.
“Who’s your boss? And for that matter, who are you?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Jason Cromwell. My boss, he’s my father, William Cromwell.”
I remembered Will Cromwell. He was an older gentleman, who needed two new tires on the front of his car, and wanted the best deal possible, like so many of my customers. It was a fairly recent Ford, and I was thinking this guy doesn’t look like he needs to save money. But, you can’t always tell. I happened to have a pair of pretty good used tires, and sold them to him installed for $75. I put them on while he waited. He drove out happy.
“So what’s with the pictures?”
“Well, I guess I’ll just come right out and tell you.”
“Dad got some tires from you.”
“One of them blew out.”
“Oh no! Is he OK?”
“Yes, he’s fine. He just pulled over, put on his spare, and came home. No big deal. Except, now he’s saying he wants to sue you.”
Now, I’m usually pretty tough. I can tell people to ‘fuck off’ when necessary, and handle my emotions well. Usually. But suddenly, the thought of being sued, and losing my business, just when I thought I had it made for life, and it all came crashing down on me. It think there was some accumulated stress involved too. I was still trying to figure out how to run this business which had started so quickly, and suddenly, I felt like I was going to loose everything.
I couldn’t help it. My eyes filled with tears, and as hard as I tried not to cry in front of this Jason person, I lost it, and sitting down sideways in the back seat of a car I had been working on, I just absolutely burst into tears.
All four doors were open on the car, and Jason Cromwell got in the other side. To my shock, he put his arms around me. He hugged me and let me cry. I was crying on the shoulder of the enemy.
It turns out he wasn’t the enemy. He explained that his father always overreacts, and the he, Jason, would fight in my behalf. He said that he was 100% certain there’d be no lawsuit.
It probably wasn’t until a month later that I realized that one doesn’t get sued over a burst tire unless someone got hurt. And no one got hurt.
In that moment, I started to feel immensely better. I must have been holding some intense bottled up pressure, I don’t cry. I probably haven’t cried since I was fourteen years old.
Jason continued to hold me for quite a while, until I recovered. Then he suddenly looked embarrassed and hopped out of the car. It was the first time I really looked at him. He was well over six feet tall, thin, and had neatly trimmed dark reddish hair and beard.
“What does your father do, that you work for him?”
“Oh, we’re tailors. We have our own little shop on Third Avenue.”
We talked a bit more, and I found myself liking this Jason guy.
After he left, I started imagining that he could be my first sexual partner. Too bad I didn’t get his phone number.
I frigged myself good with my vibrator that evening. Then it broke. The thing refused to vibrate any more, and right before I was about to cum. I was so disappointed. I ended up manually rubbing my clit to have my orgasm.
It’s a good thing I can fix stuff. I took it to the shop the next day. All I had to do was take it apart, resolder a wire on the battery holder and glue it back together. After I was done, I probably should have hidden it away somewhere. Instead I left it laying on the workbench while I started an oil change on a Chevy pickup.
As I was putting some new windshield wipers on that truck, the doorway darkened a bit. I had another customer. Looking up, I saw it was Jason Cromwell. I smiled inwardly. There was something likable about that guy.
“I just came by to tell you my dad settled down. He even said he doesn’t want a refund for the blown tire.”
“That is good news! Please tell him I’ll be happy to give the refund anyway. He shouldn’t be stuck paying for something that didn’t work out. Besides, that’s shop policy. No one ever pays for something that doesn’t satisfy.”
“That’s a nice poli…”
He stopped in mid-sentence because something caught his eye. He was staring at my workbench. Oh no, he was looking at the vibrator. I was all set to be super-embarrassed, until I realized I could just say I was fixing it for a customer.
Logically, it wouldn’t make any sense, since what I’d have to charge more to repair the vibrator than it would be worth. Well, maybe it had sentimental value to my customer, right?
“Oh, that. Well, as you may know, I fix more than cars around here,” I said as I nodded to a bicycle and a sewing machine in the corner.
“Um, OK. It just caught my attention. How many of those come through here on a weekly average?”
“Oh, a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred.”
“It’s your’s, isn’t it?”
I blushed. It’s not easy being a light-skinned blond person. Blushing is really obvious on me.
“Possibly,” I answered sheepishly.
What had I just admitted? And more important, why did I so easily admit that? Was it because Jason Cromwell was so disarming? I think there was something else, too. I think I had sex on my mind. Way too much!
“You know, girls aren’t the only ones who use these things.”
What was he getting at? I looked at him quizzically.
“I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I have one, sort of like yours.”
Wow, it just keeps getting more interesting!
“You? What would a guy do with a vibrator… Oh!” What a weird thought. I could almost picture him putting it in his ass. Oh, my god, was I going to rub one out tonight!
That’s all that was said about that. We went on to talk about other things, leaving me feeling weirdly frustrated. Like, if I was a super-bold person, I certainly wouldn’t have left it at that. I think I might have said something like, “Hey, we should meet up and use our vibrators together.” My sick mind was actually imagining that, and I barely knew this guy.
We said our goodbyes, and he left. I figured I might never see him again. Through the rest of the afternoon, I started having the most erotic fantasies about Jason Cromwell. What would he look like without clothes? I’d seen some penises on the Internet. Would his look like one of those? How, exactly would he use that vibrator? Would he be on his knees? On his back? Would he have a hairy ass? Geez!
A couple of days passed, during which I probably wasn’t a great mechanic. I had to double and triple-check that I had tightened all the bolts on a transmission pan. I lost a hubcap and spent twenty minutes looking for it. I almost hooked up a battery charger backward. All I could think about was Jason Cromwell, complete with visions of him using a vibrator. Then, I started having visions of using mine, right along with him, naked and all.
The visions evolved, and I was starting to dream of touching his penis, maybe even putting it in my mouth, and dare I say it, I even imagined fucking him. I saved that fantasy for when I was actually masturbating. I didn’t want to waste the notion. The most frequent vision was of me giving him a handjob. I don’t know why. I think it was because I had never touched a penis, and it felt safer than other activities. Just getting fucked right away, well, that was too goofy to think about. The thing was, it was not a very clear vision. I had never given a handjob, and didn’t even know what it was, exactly.
Call me crazy – many people do – but I always think that asking an authority is the best policy when you want to learn something. So who to ask? How about my older brother Carl? He’s been with women. He knew things. He was actually quite a stylish guy, always dressing well, always knowing what to say, and with a trace of rebel in him, too. I guess it runs in the family.
But how could I approach him? I mean, you don’t just walk up to your brother and say, “So, tell me all about handjobs.”
Well I do. So I did. That evening, back at my parents house, Carl was still at home from college, and my parents had gone out on their weekly bridge night.
I said, “Carl, can you tell me about handjobs?”
He practically choked on a potato chip, and turning down the volume on the TV, he said, “Where did that come from, Cin?”
“Oh, I’m just curious.”
Now I was blushing again. “Well, I met a guy, and I think I want to give him a handjob.”
“Cool! Cindy’s got a guy! But, not a blowjob or something?”
“Well, maybe. For some reason though, I keep imagining a handjob. Is that crazy?”
“No, I don’t think so. First, it’s safe sex. The safest, other than doing yourself. But I’m guessing you don’t know him so well that you want to lose your virginity to him.”
I was a little put out about the virginity thing, even though that was exactly true.
“What makes you think I’m a virgin?”
“Come on, Cin. Of course you are.”
“I don’t tell you everything.”
“Actually, yes you do. I’m sure you would have told me something like that.”
“Well, I suppose. So what can you tell me about handjobs?”
“Nothing, I’m your brother. I’m not supposed to be the one telling you stuff like that.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to ask Dad.”
He laughed. “What about Mom?”
“Well, a handjob is putting your hand on a guy’s dick, his penis, I mean.”
“Well, I know that,” I said, slightly annoyed.
“What else do you want to know?”
“Everything. Like, do you rotate your hand or something? Does it smell like anything? How long does it take a guy to orgasm? What comes out, exactly? How much?…”
“Woah, those are all good questions. No, you don’t rotate, you go up and down.”
“Up and down?”
“You really don’t know about handjobs, do you?”
“Why do you think I’m asking?”
“OK, so you go up and down like this,” at which point he wrapped the fingers of one hand around two fingers of the other hand, and moved them up and down. He made a face, like his little illustration wasn’t quite adequate.
“I’ve got a strange idea…”
“Nothing, forget it.”
“Oh, now you’ve got me curious.” I was thinking he might show me something on his laptop or something. That would kind of fun, looking at a guy’s dick on the internet with Carl.
“No, sorry, stupid idea.”
“Carl, I love you, you could never say something stupid in my opinion. Go ahead and try me.”
“It’s really a dumb idea.”
“Carl, now you’re fucking with me.”
“Seriously Cindy, it was a bad idea.”
“Just tell me, damn it, and if it’s a bad idea, we won’t do it. Simple as that, alright?” By now, I absolutely had to find out what he was thinking. My curiosity was killing me.
“OK, but promise you’ll never breathe a word of this, especially to Mom and Dad.”
Wow, it must be something even weirder than looking at pictures on the web.
I noticed that now Carl was getting red in the face, and something else. His voice had changed. He was kind of shaky and sort of whispery. Weird!
“Well?” I asked after he didn’t say anything for a painfully long time.
“OK, I told you it’s a stupid idea. You want to learn about handjobs, right?”
When you’re learning about fixing something on a car, the best way to learn is with hands-on experience, right?”
“Do you want some hands-on experience?”
“You mean with handjobs?” I was pretty sure I knew where he was going with this, and I had a mixture of some interesting emotions at that point. I was a bit weirded out that my own brother would even think of such a thing – if that was actually what he was thinking. I also felt a startling tingle in my lower belly and pussy. It was pure horniness. I knew the feeling well, but it had never hit me in quite that way. I was starting to think if he was actually offering what I think he was offering, I’d take him up on it.
“Right, with handjobs.”
“Well, tell me!”
“No, too stupid.”
“OK, you want to learn. Nothing better than a real demonstration. Now, this is strictly an educational thing. Nothing sexual, OK?”
“…” I couldn’t think of anything to say, let alone breathe at that point.
“Right, of course not.”
“Well, OK. I’ll be your guinea pig. You do a handjob on me, and I’ll guide you through the process,” he said in a weird, low voice.
“Carl, that’s too cool! Thank you, I’d like to take you up on your offer!” I couldn’t believe it, I was about to give a handjob. To touch a real, live dick. It was OK that it was Carl. Maybe even better that way. He was my beloved, trusted brother.
“Do you think it’s too weird?” he asked.
“Not at all. You’re safe. I can trust you. I always have, and always will.”
“OK, but it’s not a sexual thing, right?”
“No, of course not.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “OK, come on,” leading me to his bedroom.
For some reason, my knees were weak as I walked down the hall.
“Have you ever seen a penis in person?”
“OK, here goes,” he said as he locked the door to his room.
He indicated I should sit in his rolling office chair, and then he stood next to the bed, taking off his T-shirt. I had forgotten how good Carl looks. Or, actually, I had never thought about it until that moment. Like me, he has blond hair although his tends more toward strawberry blond. He keeps his blond beard trimmed close. He’s taller than me, because I’m really quite small, but he’s just a bit smaller than the average guy. But what a sleek upper body! He had a well-defined six-pack, and heavy-duty shoulders.
A few seconds later, his pants came off, and I could see the outline of his penis in his underwear. It was at a 45-degree angle to the left, and seemed larger than I had figured. As if he did it in front of his sister everyday, he simply removed his underwear, revealing something that made me catch my breath. At the same time, I felt another strong twinge in my lower stomach.
Trying to objectively understand what I was seeing, I first observed his powerful legs. They were covered with a barely noticeable sparse layer of blond hairs. His hips were narrower than I would have expected. I noticed that he had a nest of darker blond, almost brunette-reddish hair around his penis. I saw his balls hanging down slightly out of the hairy area, and now pointing outward at about a 45-degree angle, was his penis. Some instinct in me was causing me to want to touch it. It was my brother I knew, but I really had to touch that penis!
He reclined on his bed, and instructed me to roll the chair closer. I could smell a very slight sweaty smell that was quite attractive. Now that he was laying down, his penis was sticking almost straight up at a ninety-degree angle. The tip was different than the rest. It was kind of a pinkish color, not much different than my clit, but way larger.
From what I had seen on the internet, I could tell that my brother already had an erection.
“Is your penis erect?”
“Um, yes it is.” Again, his face turned red.
He added, “The first thing you want to know is about erections. Whenever a guy gets aroused, which can be a genuine sexual interest, or can be any of a number of other things, like simply waking up in the morning, he gets this way. If you should ever happen to see my dick, my penis, I mean, in a softer state, which it is 99 percent of the time, you’d probably be amazed how much smaller it is.
“Why is it erect now?”
“Ah, that’s because I’m expecting it to get some attention. This ‘lesson’ I’m about to give may cause me to have an orgasm. Just a natural outcome of this sort of thing, and my body is reacting favorably.”
“Does it hurt – having an erection, I mean?”
“Oh hell no. It feels great.”
“Do you masturbate?”
“Yes, Carl. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Anyone who says they don’t is a liar. So anyway, I think my erection feels like what you feel when you are masturbating, but before you reach orgasm.”
I knew that state well. Suddenly, I realized he masturbates. I had never thought about him doing that. Interestingly, as I pictured that, I got another twinge in my stomach, and this one extended well into my pussy as well.
“Can I touch it?” I asked.
I leaned in, and extended my right hand, placing my index fingertip on his penis. It jumped about a half-inch, and I backed away.
He laughed.”That felt nice. Do it again.”
I guess that little jump it did was a reaction to a feeling of pleasure. I reached forward, and just barely touched the pink tip of his penis again, and it jumped again.
“Go ahead and feel everything, and get used to it, then I’ll show you specifically what to do,” he said in a shaky voice.
My confident big brother was having trouble speaking confidently right now. I guess this was having an effect on him. I could pretty much understand, because I get kind of like that when I masturbate.
I put my thumb and first couple of fingers in approximately the middle of it’s length, feeling a penis in my hand for the first time in my life. It was not what I expected. It was warm, and it was hard and soft at the same time. Hard inside, but the skin was very soft and flexible. I also felt a pulsing, and realized it was Carl’s heartbeat. Cool! Way cool!
What had I been missing out on all these years? I suddenly knew I really liked guys’ anatomy. Some of my girlfriends had been with their boyfriends since fourteen or fifteen years old, and I know some of them did things with their guys on a regular basis. If I had known penises were this attractive, I’d have found ways to play with them way sooner.
I had been feeling his penis, then moved down to his balls. I was feeling his balls in that sack, the scrotum, and wanted to know exactly what they felt like. Evidently, I squeezed one a bit hard.
“Balls can be sensitive. You never want to squeeze them or hit them.” I understood. It would be like being hit in the tit. This happened to me just a few days ago. I was loosening a belt tensioner and the wrench slipped, causing me to punch myself directly in my right breast. I was glad no one was in the shop to hear me cursing at that moment!
“Oh, it barely hurt at all. Guys are protective of their balls, and will generally stop a girl from doing anything that could hurt.”
Next, I came back to the amazing tip of his penis, and spread the peehole open gingerly. I wanted to see inside. He was quietly laying on the bed, with one arm crooked over his eyes, and seemed to be enjoying the attention.
“Ready for the handjob?” he asked.
He then instructed me to wrap a hand around his penis, and move the loose skin up and down. He had me adjust the speed, the grip, and the squeezing pressure. At one point, he had to tell me to be careful about pulling hairs.
Continuing to lay on the bed with his arm over his eyes, he started lightly moaning and saying every minute or so, “Yes, that’s just right.”
His breathing became heavier, and he started tensing his leg muscles and his stomach area. “Oh, that’s it,” he instructed.
I continued and then he almost yelled, “I’m gonna cum.”
Perhaps my reaction was wrong. I stopped touching him right away.
“No, keep going. I’m about to cum.”
I kind of figured he was going to ejaculate. I was really curious as to what that was all about. Was it like urinating?
“Should we put down towels or a plastic sheet or something?”
“No,” he groaned and laughed at the same time.
Suddenly, I felt his penis pulsing a little bit in my hand, and as I watched, a small spurt of whitish fluid shot an inch in the air and landed on my hand. I kept stroking my hand up and down, and as he arched his back a little bit, while moaning louder.
Immediately, a much larger spurt of the white stuff shot maybe five inches up, then landed on his stomach and my hand, followed by several more similar spurts. After maybe the fifth one, they died back down to an inch of height, then stopped altogether. I kept stroking, having no idea what was going to happen next. More of the white stuff, maybe?”
“Woah, stop,” he said as he grabbed my wrist, forcing me to stop.
“When a guy cums, it’s all over. It takes us anywhere from fifteen minutes to a day to want to cum again. Meanwhile, our cocks get really sensitive, and we can hardly stand to be touched.
Still recovering from seeing the white stuff shooting out, I said, “Weird.”
He didn’t say anything. He just laid there, still breathing hard, still with his arm over his eyes. I was hypnotized, and felt like I could just sit there, savoring that moment forever. In a minute, I noticed a change. His penis was getting smaller. Pretty soon, most of it had receded into his nest of hair, and the skin looked wrinkly.
“Cin, that was awesome! You are now a handjob expert.”
I enjoyed the complement. Pretty soon, it was obvious we were done and he wanted space. I left his room, and as you may have guessed, rubbed myself to a crashing orgasm as soon as I was locked in my own room. Five minutes after I had finished, my parents came home.
A day later, Carl and I talked about it. I was feeling a twinge of something. Guilt perhaps? It turns out, he felt a bit weird about it also. However, we both agreed it was an awesome experience for me, and we were both glad it happened. Carl admitted that he enjoyed it so much, he’d be glad to offer follow-up tutoring. I was pretty much in favor of that.
Meanwhile, the next day, back at the car shop, you-know-who reappeared. I was starting to realize Jason wasn’t much for using the phone. His style was to simply show up. We talked about this and that as he rolled around on my wheeled stool, while I bled the brakes on a Pontiac.
While we were talking, I was frantically racking my brain for a way to offer him a handjob. I was believing it might be possible to make my dreams become real. I needn’t have worried.
I got him to sit behind the wheel and push the brake pedal while I went around bleeding the lines. When I was done, I got in the passenger side, and he leaned surprisingly close to me. And then he kissed me. It was just a little peck on the cheek, but it made my day! A guy, and a cute one that that, had just kissed me, Cindy Thomason!
I suppose I looked delighted, because my reaction seemed to encourage him to kiss me again, this time on the lips.
That kiss lingered, and then I felt something kind of weird. Did this guy have a third lip or something? No, he was pressing his tongue between my lips, and it felt insistent in a way, but also quite nice. I opened my lips and let his tongue in, expecting it to be gross, but no, it was very nice!
We kissed like that for a while, and then naturally broke away at the same time. I was becoming concerned that a customer could come in and see us doing that. Not that it was bad or anything, but it seemed kind of private.
Jason wanted me to come to dinner at his house that very evening. He wanted to cook for me, and assured me I wouldn’t have to do anything. I was dumbstruck. Of course, I accepted.
Seven o’clock found me ringing his doorbell. When the door opened, my heart sank. It was his dad, the guy who hated my guts. Or so I thought. He invited me in with a smile on his face, and startled me by yelling “Jason, she’s here.” He offered me a drink, which I politely declined, and in a moment Jason came downstairs with a huge smile.
In a minute, his father left for some sort of meeting, and the house was all ours. Looking around, it was a typical suburban home, except the living room was dominated by two grand pianos.
Seeing me staring at the pianos, Jason said, “My mom used to be a piano teacher.”
“Used to be?”
“She died in a car wreck.”
“I’m so sorry, Jason.”
“That was six years ago. I’m pretty well over it.”
I followed Jason to the kitchen, where he was finishing up home-made lasagna. He had two candles burning on a modest dining room table, and brought out a big salad, some wine, all the usual stuff. We ate, we talked, we had a good time. I was starting to really like this guy.
After dinner, we retired to the living room, where he put on some soft music, and we just continued talking. He told me about his tailoring business, and I told him more about my interest in repairing things, especially cars. He complimented me on being ‘a beautiful lady who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.’ I showed him my stained fingernails, and he laughed.
He leaned in and kissed me. We went on with that for quite a while, while hugging closer and closer on the sofa. We had our arms around each other, and started working our way into a reclining position.
He simply said, “Come on,” guiding me to his bedroom.
“I don’t want to have sex just yet.”
His face fell, but only for a moment. “OK, I’d never push you on something like that.”
I was thankful. I’ve seen enough TV shows to know that sometimes guys can get very insistent, and until Jason said “OK,” I had been concerned that could happen.
I wanted to reward him, or at least that’s what I was telling myself. Actually, I wanted to give him a handjob.
“But Jason, I’d be honored to give you a handjob.”
“Not quite as romantic as I imagined,” he laughed, “but I’d be honored to accept!”
Then he added, “As long as you’re sure. If you’re alright with that.”
“Not only alright, I really want to.” I felt like telling him of my recent experience with my brother, but thought better of it.
There were a few minutes of awkwardness, until I just came right out and told him to remove his pants. He slowly did, standing only a couple of feet from my face. As soon as his pants were down, I could see he already had an erection. It kind of popped as his waistband uncovered it. It seemed even bigger than my brother’s. Maybe that was because Jason had removed all the hair from his crotch. I decided right then that I do like the shaved look. I was as fascinated by his penis as Carl’s. I noticed that Jason’s foreskin half-covered the tip of his dick, so he must not have been circumcised. Oh, I so wanted to touch it, but thought it might a bit better to wait a while. To make this a big deal for Jason.
I asked him to lay face up on the bed. Then I realized things weren’t quite right. The situation was too direct, not romantic enough. I didn’t know how to suddenly make it more romantic, but thought perhaps a massage would be a good way to start. So, I asked him to roll over on his stomach, and he complied.
“Nice butt!” I said that without thinking. I did find his butt surprisingly attractive. It was skinny and tight. Smaller than I thought it would be, But sexier, too. I liked the fine coating of hairs on his ass. But all that had to wait.
Not knowing much about massage, I started by rubbing his shoulders. He was quiet, but seemed to like it. I then did his neck, then his upper arms, his lower arms, then thinking ‘What the heck?’ I continued down to his hands, pressing hard against his palms. He went “Mmm,” indicating that he liked it.
I then stepped to the foot of the bed, and started in on his feet. He pulled his legs up and flinched. “Tickles!” he said. It was cute how he didn’t say “It tickles,” or “That tickles.”
I was tempted to tease him with some tickling, but decided I didn’t really know him well enough to do that, at least not yet. Using more pressure, I approached his feet again, and this time, it worked nicely. It didn’t tickle him, and I got another “Mmm.”
I worked up to his ankles, then his calves, then his upper legs. Not being particularly experienced, I couldn’t decide if I should do something with that delicious butt of his or not.
I let my loins decide. I was definitely feeling it – you know the feeling. The chill that originates in your lower belly, and travels throughout your vagina, and in fact, your whole body. I could even feel my asshole contracting in some sort of sexual anticipation. Still, I was determined not to go too far with Jason. Not just yet. Today, the fine fellow would get a handjob. That’s it.
Well, first I’d massage his ass, then a handjob. So I rubbed my hands over his taught globes, and then kneaded them. Again, he said “Mmm,” so I know I was doing it about right. At one point, my hands pulled his ass cheeks a bit apart, and I saw his puckered pinkish-brown asshole. That sight, even though it lasted for a split-second, did something to me. I felt another full-body chill, and my vagina was getting significantly wet. I knew someday, I’d be giving major attention to male assholes. Not today, though.
I had him roll over, and his magnificent penis was sticking straight up. I instinctively knew that ignoring it for a while would drive him crazy in a good way. So, I massaged his forehead a little, reached around his head and massaged the back of his neck and his shoulders, then worked on his upper arms again, then lower arms, and a bit on the back of his hands. That didn’t really work, so I then went to his feet and worked my way up his lower legs. I slowed down as I approached his upper legs, and took my sweet time approaching his penis.
I could tell I was having an effect on him. His penis was pulsing with his heartbeat, like my brother’s had done. Jason’s seemed even harder than Carl’s had been, but maybe that was just my imagination.
I decided to keep things going a while longer, because I was starting to figure out that the anticipation of an orgasm can be as good as the event itself. I mean, that was the case when I masturbated, anyway.
So, having reached his upper thighs, and delayed as long as I could there, it was time to touch… not his penis. His testicles. I started gently, by lightly rubbing my thumbs over the skin. I could feel the big bumps inside but ignored them momentarily. Remembering what my brother had told me about not pulling hair, I was careful, making sure this was nothing but comfortable for Jason. He certainly seemed to be liking it.
Being curious about testicles, I started feeling them within the sack, and they felt sort of like grapes. I squeezed a bit harder, and Jason flinched, “Ouch!”
Oops! I backed off immediately. Only then did I remember that Carl had said that guys’ balls are sensitive.
“Oh, don’t stop though, that was fantastic. Just do it a bit lighter.”
So I continued to massage his balls, carefully, for several minutes, while his penis, fully ignored, was continuing to pulse back and forth just a little bit. It was fun to pull slightly on his scrotum, and watch his penis wave up and down from the movement. Jason didn’t seem to mind.
Noticing his peehole, I couldn’t resist looking at that. I was just starting to realize I find that part of a man very sexy. Finishing with his balls, I put the thumb of either hand on the tip of his penis, and kind of spread the opening. I could see a little way inside, inspecting the dark red interior. That’s another area I’d explore in detail some day. As I was looking in, he bucked his hips a bit. Not understanding, I let go.
“Oh, that certainly felt good.”
Hearing that, I reinspected his peehole for a few minutes. Having no further physical reaction from him, I wrapped one hand around his penis and started moving his very loose foreskin up and down. Within ten seconds, just as I was establishing a rhythm, he tensed all up and started squirting his wonderful white liquid into the air. I swear one spurt shot a foot in the air before it splashed back down on his chest. He was all tense, and moaning, and squirming. I kept rubbing, but in a moment, he said “Thank you so much,” while pushing my hand away. Carl had told me how sensitive guys get afterward, so I understood.
I had to go pee, and so left Jason on the bed for a couple of minutes. When I returned, he was asleep. I climbed on his bed, and spooned behind him for a few minutes. Boy, did that feel satisfying, somehow. Then, I got up, grabbed my jacket, and headed home. Oddly, it never occurred to me that he could return the favor. I was satisfied in a way, but of course once I got home, I frigged myself silly.
“Carl,” I asked a day later, “What comes after a handjob?”
“What do you mean?”
“So, this guy, Jason, I gave him a handjob just like you taught me, and he loved it.”
“What did he do for you?”
“Nothing. He fell asleep.”
“Yup, so I went home.”
Carl laughed. I thought about it for a moment, and joined in.
“Well, what do you want? I mean, do you want him to return the favor? I can tell you what guys can do to girls.”
“That’s certainly interesting!”
“Would you have to tell me?”
“What do you mean?”
“OK, so this is embarrassing, well… OK… So, the other day, I really enjoyed your lesson on handjobs.”
“Yeah, I really liked it too, as I’m sure you could tell.”
“So what comes after a handjob?”
“Oh, a blowjob.”
“Can you teach me?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied and started removing his pants right away. My brother is not shy!
“Ah, but first, let me teach you what to expect from a man.”
“Take off your clothes.”
If anyone else but Carl issued that command, I’d slap them and run out of the room. But for my wonderful brother, I simply complied.
I started with the shirt I was wearing, then my sweatpants. Next came my bra, which I simply removed. For Carl, it wasn’t so simple. He stared at my boobs, and sucked in his breath.
“My Cindy, you certainly have beautiful breasts.”
I was ridiculously proud, as if I had something to do with the way they turned out.
Continuing, I removed my panties, now being as naked as the day I was born. I was nervous, but also very expectant. I knew it was my brother, and I trusted him completely, knowing this would be a good experience. What I didn’t expect is how personal it would be.
His erection waving in front of him, he stood up while I laid on his bed, the bedspread pulled back, but the sheets still in place. He then climbed on top of me so I could feel the weight of a man’s body for the first time. He then, quite naturally kissed me. And it did feel natural. I liked it very much. While he was kissing me, I was aware of my breasts squeezed against his hairy chest, and my nipples were being rubbed by the hair. That in itself was almost orgasmic.
He pressed his tongue against my lips and slipped it into my mouth, exploring all around. I was loving it. I also felt the hardness of his penis against my belly. I was starting to wonder if he might actually put it in me. That seemed wrong, but I knew I’d instantly surrender to it.
Instead, his next move was to take his weight off me, and then kiss my chin, my neck, the top of my left shoulder, and work his way slowly down to my left breast, and finally my left nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, and the fire in my belly turned into something rhythmic. I believe it was a mini-orgasm. But, he wasn’t done with me yet, and I certainly wasn’t done with him.
At some point, he switched to my right nipple, which turned out to be even more sexually sensitive than the left one. I was feeling waves of pleasure from the tip of my head to my toes.
The next thing I knew he was kissing my stomach, which lasted for only a moment. Suddenly, he was kissing my hairy vagina. He explored around a bit with his lips and tongue, working his way into my inner labia, and sucking each in turn between his lips. Finally, he landed on my clit, and within seconds, I was screaming “Carl, “Carl!” arching my back, and spasming all over, with the biggest orgasm of my life. Now, masturbation is good, but it certainly couldn’t compare to that!
He held me close until I came back to earth, and simply said, “That’s how it’s done, and that’s what you should expect from a good man.”
What a delightful lesson! If only things like algebra could be taught that way.
“Do you still want to find out about blowjobs?” he inquired.
What a chivalrous brother! He would have been fine if I said no, denying him an orgasm after all that. But I was more in the mood than ever. I wanted to focus on that penis of his, and I was pretty sure the next lesson would involve putting my mouth around it. I was very much looking forward to that, whatever it might entail.
He then laid face up on the bed as he instructed me to sit in the rolling chair next to the bed. His beautiful penis was sticking straight up, and without being instructed on the next step, I grabbed it in my right had, wrapping my fingers around it. I had to. It was like an instinct kicked in. He let out a strong exhale, letting me know that my touch was just right.
He didn’t say much at all as I then leaned in and simply put my mouth around his penis. I couldn’t believe how natural it felt. He started a thrusting motion, jamming his penis slightly farther into my mouth than I thought it should go, but it didn’t gag me or anything. At one point, he said “Teeth,” reminding me that I was probably scraping his skin.
Suddenly, I felt his body tensing, and then his penis was pulsing, and his salty ejaculate was filling my mouth. I almost gagged at that point, but that was only because my mouth was so full. I managed to swallow the fluid, and was happy to do so. He pulled out of my mouth shortly afterward. We talked a bit, cleaned up, and then went on with our separate evenings. An hour later our parents came home.
When we had a few private minutes the next day, I asked Carl why we didn’t fuck. He decided that maybe as brother and sister, that would be going too far. I liked his sense of boundaries and agreed with him. We also agreed that what we had done was just fine, even good, and it would be totally acceptable to repeat it from time to time. I jokingly said, “I’m a slow learner,” getting giggles from both of us.
I felt almost as if my ‘lessons’ with Carl were a conquest, and was just busting to tell Jason about them, but I decided maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea. When I did see Jason, he told me he “owed me.”
I was pretty sure I knew what it meant.
His dad was going to be out the next evening, and so Jason had me come over. We immediately got naked in his bedroom. It feels remarkably exciting to be naked in places other than your own bathroom, but you probably already know that. I didn’t until then.
It is also terribly exciting to see a man with an erection. My brother was one thing, but Jason, a relative stranger, now that was something else again. He wasn’t hiding it in the slightest.
Our bodies met in a long standing embrace, before we lowered ourselves in a heap on his bed. We rolled around kissing on the bed, and I felt his penis poking me gently in the lower regions. I suppose he could have just pushed it into me at anytime, but being a gentleman he didn’t. Instead, his kissing, just like my brother had done, took him lower and lower on my body. As he sucked my clit into his lips, I started shuddering, and then orgasming. Weirdly, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. What was even weirder is that the orgasm didn’t stop. It kept coming on in waves, and he kept licking. I was also aware of another sensation. He was lightly placing a fingertip against my asshole. That, too, was remarkably erotic. Who knew? Now, I’ll probably be a fan of anal play for the rest of my life!
Finally, my orgasms subsided. I had no idea the whole thing, which I guess you’d call multiple orgasms, could last so long or be so strong.
He asked whether I was ‘good for more.’ Not knowing what that meant, but only that it had to be something even better, I was all for it, and said so.
He leaned over the edge of the bed and opened a drawer, taking out a small blue packet. I knew what it was, and was so excited that you’d never guess I had been orgasming just minutes before.
I watched, hypnotized, as he unrolled the condom over his large penis. I felt an urge to help, or at least touch his penis, but resisted. Upon finishing that, he spread some lotion on the newly covered penis, and gestured that I should lay down on the bed.
Staring into his eyes, with my own trusting eyes, I watched him climb over me. Then he stopped.
“Are you a virgin?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you OK with this?”
“I’m going to go very slowly, in case it hurts.”
“Hurts?” I asked with a touch of fear and disbelief. How could something like this hurt anyone?
“Ah, from what I’ve read, some virgins have a little restriction that tears open the first time. It might bleed a little, it might sting a little. Are you OK with that?”
“So, you’re a virgin too?”
“Jason, I’m honored!”
“Cindy, I, too, am honored.”
And with that, he slowly lowered himself on me, and I felt a little insistence at my opening. He had to readjust the angle a couple of times, and at one point my hair was getting pulled as it was drawn into my vagina, but in a couple of minutes, we worked it out, and I felt the tip of his penis push its way in.
Oh, my god, how fulfilling! Way better than that stupid purple dildo! And that was just the tip. I wanted him to just go ahead and jam the whole works in me. It was a craving. I wanted all of him, and right now. But he was hanging back, just hovering over my body with an inch of his rock-hard penis stretching me open.
Ever so slowly, he thrust in another half inch. I felt a little pinch perhaps, but it was nothing compared to wanting him to push all the way in. I guess that even though I was a virgin, I must have cleared the opening through masturbation. Maybe I had done it unknowingly with the purple vibrating dildo.
Then he pulled back perhaps a quarter-inch, and then back in another inch, maintaining a smooth back and forth entry until I felt his lower belly against mine, and I knew he had made it all the way. I was full of a man’s penis, and it was the best feeling in the world. I had hoped it would never end.
Unfortunately, it was over in a heartbeat. I felt him tensing up, and I was pretty sure I knew what was happening. I think I felt some pulsing of his penis, but I couldn’t quite tell, then he fell still, collapsing his whole weight on my body, his head turned sideways and resting on my tits. I rather liked that position, but he was kind of heavy.
In a couple of minutes, feeling I couldn’t breathe any more, I shifted. He noticed my discomfort, and got off me. As he did, I felt his penis leave me, a very lonely feeling for a moment. It had shrank, so it didn’t really pull out, as much as simply move away.
We laid silently for a while, just staring in each others eyes. There was no denying that we were both quite delighted. Then he asked, “Are you satisfied?”
“Well, I think so.” I kind of felt like another nice orgasm would cap the whole evening off nicely, but could always rub myself when I got back home.
With no words passing between us, he shifted around on the bed so his head was between my legs. His shriveled up penis was still encased in the condom up by my face. He arranged himself so his head was between my legs, and started licking my vagina.
At first, he was kind of awkward, not sleek like Carl had been. In a couple of minutes, he had worked out my anatomy, and was licking me in long strokes from near the bottom of my vagina to a point beyond my clit. Then he settled on the clit itself. I don’t believe he was sucking on it, although of course I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. I think he was licking it. In any case, with in a minute or two, it was feeling very nice indeed. If we could have maintained that state for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.
But we couldn’t. I started climbing the stairs to an orgasm. My whole body was getting into that shivering, spasming mode again, my head felt dizzy, I was breathing heavy, even my nipples were involved, feeling that delicious tingle they can get. Soon, I was overwhelmed in orgasm again.
Finally, tearing up, I snuggled against Jason’s chest, and said the first words that came to my mind.
“I love you.”
I knew it was premature, but that’s what I said. He was thinking more clearly and responded, “I think I’m falling for you, too, Cindy.”
That was a good response, I liked it because it was hopeful, yet real.
After that day, Jason and I became an ‘item.’ He hung around my shop fairly often, and sometimes, I’d drop into his tailoring shop at lunch time. To my initial surprise, his dad and I became good friends.
I was over at Jason and Will Cromwell’s house almost every evening. The evenings I wasn’t there, Jason would be at my place. To my joy, Carl seemed to like him immensely. Carl is a very good judge of character.
Will helped me understand bookkeeping, for which I am eternally grateful. My bookkeeping at the time was a horror show. Basically, every receipt was shoved in a cardboard box, and the only accounting I did was to write checks when bills came in, that is, if I remembered. Money wasn’t a problem. Remembering to do the paperwork, to pay the bills, to fill out government forms, that was the problem. I never got in trouble for any of that, but without Will Cromwell’s help, I probably would have.
A year came and went. My shop became more successful, and I hired two mechanics and a service writer. The service writer was an especially good move, because the only part of the business I didn’t like was dealing with customers. Cars, no problem. People, not so great.
Carl got a new, steady girlfriend. He had been playing the market. I knew of at least six women he had dated, and no doubt fucked. There was even a guy hanging around for a while that I didn’t want to ask about. His girlfriend, Melani, was an Asian knockout, with a delightful personality. I liked her instantly.
I had always planned to tell Jason about the times that Carl had given me those two lessons. We never did get around to more lessons, although I think we would have both enjoyed them. I never did tell Jason. Not because I was keeping anything from him, but because it just never came up. Don’t all brothers and sisters do things like that?
That little secret came out one night at Carl’s house over pizza. The four of us were munching away, talking about this and that. Now, the four of us did get raunchy from time to time, discussing sexual matters and other such personal things. Suddenly, evidently accidentally, Carl said something about my vagina being hairy.
Melani wanted to know how he knew that, asking with a sparkle in her eye.
“I’ve seen it.”
“Well, a year ago.”
“Ooh, tell us!”
Jason piped in, “Yes, tell us!”
Carl glanced at me as if asking “OK?”
I nodded ‘OK’ back. I was reluctant to have him reveal anything. It’s like when your mom wants to bring out baby pictures, and there’s your naked ass hanging out for all to see at age two. But, I figured Carl would be discrete. To my shock, he was not!
“Cindy wanted sex lessons, so I taught her everything she knows,” he said with a laugh.
I couldn’t resist, “Well, not everything!”
“Details, details, details,” Melani started chanting. Jason joined in. Again a gesture asking for permission from Carl.
I nodded my head, adding, “OK, we’re all friends here. Why not?” What I didn’t admit, was that this discussion was getting me horny. And, I was guessing, everyone else was getting charged up too.
So Carl launched in on the whole thing, how I wanted to know what a handjob was, and so he used himself as a test subject on which I was allowed to experiment. Then he talked about the blowjob thing, and how he ate me, complete with describing my long orgasm.
Jason and Melani listened with rapt attention.
My beautiful and intelligent Jason did something at that point that I considered very well thought-out for a spur-of-the-monent idea.
“I think this calls for a game of strip poker.”
Groans and laughter, all at the same time.
“I second that emotion,” called Melani.
I’m pretty sure Carl was on board with it, I know I sure was.
Jason, always the sensible one, said “Whatever happens here this afternoon is not allowed to cause any sort of friction or weirdness between us. Is everyone in agreement?”
Everyone agreed, and then Carl rummaged around in his kitchen drawers until he found a tattered deck of cards.
We evened up our clothing, a couple of us taking off sweaters so everyone had about the same amount of clothing, then started playing.
The game was going fairly evenly, when suddenly, I started to lose big-time. Thinking back, I wonder if I unconsciously sabotaged my outcome.
I was the first to show boobs. I shouldn’t have been freaked out, but I was. For a moment, I wished I hadn’t agreed to play this stupid game. Thinking more clearly, I realized Carl and Jason had already seen me all naked, so that was the big deal. Melani could certainly handle seeing tits, right? I had a weird feeling about her.
So, off came my bra, to the cheers of the group. Melani was quiet and looked a little flushed. Could the sight of my tits have excited her in some way?
Then, I lost the next hand, too. Geez! Here was Carl in his underpants, Jason in a T-shirt and underpants, and Melani in bra, panties and T-shirt, and now I would be naked in front of all of them. It felt bad. Like a bad situation. At the same time, I was terribly excited, and oddly, rather proud of my body. So, I wanted to keep my panties on, and wanted to take them off at the same time. Go figure!
There really wasn’t any choice. It would spoil the group’s fun if I refused. And, I think we all knew where this was going. I didn’t even want to spoil it for myself. So, off they came.
Carl exclaimed, “Ah, you shave now!”
Everyone laughed again.
Melani was looking, I don’t quite know, almost sick. She was staring at my vagina hypnotically. In a moment she said, “You’re beautiful, Cindy!”
That drew everyone’s attention to her. She seemed embarrassed as she leaned in against Carl.
“Oh, Honey…” he said. “If this game is bothering you…”
“Oh, no, quite the opposite,” she said in a somewhat shaky voice.
Then she started crying, covering her eyes with her arm as she leaned more into Carl. Her quiet sobs became louder. We were all dumbstruck, not understanding, and not knowing what to do.
I think she felt an explanation was in order, and it required a painful admission. At least, I believe it was painful for her.
“I…, I’m…, Well, when I was younger, I had a real thing for girls. Carl will tell you, that I have dated some women. Then I met Carl, and was ready to go back to guys. I mean, what a guy Carl is…”
Three of us went “yeah,” almost simultaneously.
“Well, I’ve been attracted to Cindy from the first day I met her. Seeing her now, I’m just so taken with her beauty. I’m afraid of what might happen.”
Carl missed his calling. He should have been a psychologist. “What might happen Mel?”
“I could fall for her,” she said, looking right at me.
“And, would that be so bad?”
“Well, what about you, Carl?”
“First, I’d survive, but I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen at all. So, let’s say you fall for Cindy. And, let’s say the feeling is mutual. Maybe Jason and I really like each other in that way too, or maybe not…”
That brought a quizzical look from Jason.
“Wouldn’t it all be OK? Or, can you fall for Cindy, and still love me, too? Might it just be an attraction with Cindy? Oh, Mel, I see so many possibilities, none of them disastrous with a good group like the four of us.”
It took a while, but Melani started to perk up. Meanwhile, Carl had accidentally, or maybe not so accidentally let something slip about his thoughts toward Jason.
The fate of the afternoon rested in Jason’s hands. He could freak out, and that would be that. Or, he might do something else.
He did do something else. He just stepped out of his remaining clothing, revealing a semi-hard penis. He stared challengingly, but also humorously at Carl. “Go on big guy, try to do something that would actually shock me.”
Carl came over and kissed my boyfriend right on the lips. They embraced for a good minute before pulling away.
“It’s going to take more than that,” Jason laughingly said. I happened to notice his penis, which had been only a little erect a minute ago was now at full attention!
While us two girls were staring at that scene, Melani asked me, “Cindy, um…, could I touch…”
I didn’t let her finish. I stood up, came over, and sat down cross-legged next to her on the sofa. She got a big French kiss from yours truly. She broke away only long enough to remove her remaining clothing. I didn’t realize a female could be so appealing to another female. I especially liked her tiny, light brown butt. It was a new experience for me hugging such a little person. Melani was quite small, even skinny, with small nearly black-nippled breasts, a small nose, even her toes were small. She had lovely long straight black hair that reached almost to her butt.
I had always thought orgies were something other people did. We had one hell of an orgy that day. Everyone fucked everyone. I got it in the butt from my brother, while Jason sucked Melani’s beautiful vagina. That was followed by her sucking my vagina, while I put a finger in Jason’s butt. While I was doing that, he was sucking on Carl. The day went on and on like that, with everyone doing everything to everyone.
That wasn’t the last time. The four of became so close, we were almost like a four-way marriage. Oh, sure, there were heated moments, but no real arguments, or at least nothing that wasn’t resolved in an hour. Melani was the first to become pregnant, but I followed shortly afterward.
My silly car repair business grew and grew, and in time, all four of us became involved. Jason wanted to learn the car repair business from the ground up, and became a really good mechanic. He was especially skilled at welding and body work. I guess it makes sense, with a tailoring background. Carl was an independent computer programmer for a while, but became more and more involved in my company’s computer and networking issues, especially after I started adding branches in other towns. He then wrote some software for diagnosing automotive repair issues, and has made a small fortune on renting that software to mechanics all over the world.
My oldest is the general manager of the car shops, and my twins are all grown up and on their own. Melani and Carl’s two kids are grown and leading their own successful lives.
The four of us are still together, and happy as ever. We often get together in Carl and Melani’s living room on Saturday afternoons having our pizza and beers, followed by a good old-fashioned orgy.