I caught the writing bug again. Please note I AM of legal age when this incident occured. This story is part truth, part fantasy. I leave it to the reader to guess which part is which.  
Most girls remember their very first boyfriend. He is the first guy to hold your hand, and gives you that first passionate kiss. He’s the first to promise that you’ll always to be together. I remember my first boyfriend for a different reason.
My boyfriend’s parents did not care for me at all. Besides dressing rather provocatively, I was their oldest son’s first girlfriend. That can be a tough thing for any parent to cope with. They tried to end the relationship, but as the saying goes……love conquers all. We fiercely rebelled, determined that nothing and no one would ever break us apart. Gradually they accepted the relationship, coming to the realization that the more they fought it, the more we wanted to stay together.
So they adopted the *keep your enemies closer* policy, inviting me to go with them on family trips, and overnights in their home. Of course they ensured that we slept on opposite sides of the house, lol.
His dad stood 6’ 3”. He was physically attractive to me, though at the time, I wouldn’t consciously admit this to myself. He had dish water blonde hair, a trimmed beard, and intensely expressive eyes. He exuded a dominant air about him. I didn’t like his personality one bit. I found him to be a chauvinistic dickhead. He was a drill sergeant, constantly barking orders at his family. He treated his wife as a subservient, demeaning her on a regular basis. He rarely spoke to me or even acknowledged my presence. On occasion, I would catch him staring intently at me. Under his unblinking gaze, I felt naked and vulnerable, like he could see the secret thoughts I kept locked away.

They didn’t like it when they caught us kissing, but over time, became used to it. His dad would tell us to knock it off and leave it at that. After a few months, he reaction to us showing affection, changed. Acts that didn’t bother him before, began affecting him. He’d become very angry when he caught us kissing & touching. Simply holding hands ticked him off! I sensed his anger was not based on parental concern for his child being corrupted. It seemed to come from another source. His anger was that of a jealous lover. I never shared this feeling with my boyfriend.

I remember when his dad took us out to their property in the mountains to chop wood. He handed the axe to his son, and ordered him to split logs. My boyfriend’s body had yet to fill out. He was still sporting a thin frame. I felt pity as I watched him having great difficulty yielding the large tool. His dad was a very impatient man. He quickly became irritated with what he construed as his son’s incompetence. He grabbed the heavy axe from him, and showed him how to split a log in one fell swoop. I sat on a picnic bench observing. I could feel my nipples harden behind the tank top I wore that day. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could swear his father noticed from the corner of his eye, a small smile playing on his face. It was as if he intended to show up his own son.

There came a night that is burned forever in my memory. It started out the same as other nights. I was staying over. His parents required me to sleep in a spare bedroom downstairs next to the family room. My bf slept upstairs in his room. Once in awhile, after ensuring his parents were sound asleep, he’d sneak downstairs to play with me.
I drift off to sleep, giving up on him. I’m awakened by a hand caressing my breasts. I smile, still half asleep. Too lazy to open my eyes, I enjoy the sensations this hand is producing. He finally came to play with me. His parents must be sleeping. I feel the hand run up and down my body, over my t-shirt that his dad gave me to wear for jammies. He is behaving differently tonight. It isn’t the hurried nature of young passion. Tonight, he is touching my body slowly, tentatively, as if it were the first time.

I feel the hand slip under the shirt. It hits me like a shockwave. This is NOT the hand of a young man, awkward & unsure of how to touch a girl. This hand is experienced. It is bigger, and calloused from years of hard work. It is demanding, purposeful, and knows exactly what it is doing.

My eyes fly open. It is dark. All I can make out is a silhouette. I don’t need light to realize who is touching me like this. It’s my bf’s father. I am too stunned to speak. I lay in silence as I feel his hand crawl up my/his shirt and pinch my nipples. They harden under his touch. His hand caresses every part of my upper body before working its way down. Against my will, my legs take on a life of their own. They naturally part as his hand makes it’s way to my p*ssy. I’m embarrassed at the huge wet spot I made on the bed. I tell my body not to behave this way, to stop it right now. To be a faithful girlfriend…..

My body’s will is stronger. I stifle a moan as I feel his finger slip inside me. He thumb is simultaneously massaging my clit as his finger explores my flesh. I don't want him to stop.

He pulls back the blankets and gets between my legs. Now he’s the one giving me firsts. I feel his tongue, soft & slow. His beard tickles my inner thighs. I’m not thinking of my bf anymore. My hands grab his head, as I grind my p*ssy into his face. My body has never felt this good before. Something is happening. Something is coming.

He stops abruptly, causing that suspenseful feeling to subside. I’m disappointed. He stands up in front of the bed, and unties the drawstring to his pajama pants. What I see catches my breath. His c*ck is much bigger than his son’s. It is hard, erect, and oozing pre cum. I want it. I feel bad for wanting it. Feeling bad for wanting it, makes me want it more. I want it in my mouth and in my p*ssy. He stands in front of me and pulls me up into a sitting position. He rubs the head on my cheeks and eventually, starts pushing it against my lips. I let it slip inside my drooling mouth. I love the taste of it. Another first. I had yet to experience the taste of c*ck, till now.
He moans quietly as I hungrily slurp him. He stops my bobbing head after awhile and pushes me down on my back. I used to pray that his parents stayed asleep while my bf and I played at night. Now I’m praying that my bf stays asleep.

He rubs his engorged member up and down my wet slit till I think I’m going to go mad. He slowly enters me, giving me time to get used to his size. Once he is all the way in, he stops moving. He puts his mouth over mine and our tongues entwine. I can taste a trace of beer he had earlier that evening. He begins to f*ck me, slowly at first, gradually building speed and intensity. Thank the goddess the bed doesn’t squeak.
He’s not quick like young men tend to be. He pounds me for over an hour. As far as I’m concerned, he could’ve went at it all night. He whispers in my ear., *I want you to open your mouth and swallow every drop like a good little girl*. He pulls out and shoves it in my mouth. I can feel bursts of cum pumping down my throat. I do as I’m told, making sure none of it goes to waste. Yummy cum. Another first.

There was never another night like that. He never visited me again. I never told my bf about how good his dad’s c*ck felt. They moved away a few months later. I never saw him again. To this day, I remember fondly the special firsts he gave me.

I created a group on yahoo for viewing my fetish shoot w/ two other chicks and for 2 upcoming artshows.  It's also for posting more deviant fantasies  [email protected]. 206 999 8962

-- Modified on 10/14/2003 11:47:19 PM