Her dad was not so cooperative. Once he saw that my newspapers were delivered, he reminded me that my customers were waiting. "You'll never be a good businessman," he would say, "if you don't provide good service. " "Yes, Mr. Fleischman," I would reply agreeably and take my papers away. Just starting high school, Martha and I were on the bottom of the pecking order, but we were both quiet and respectful and avoided the petty sniping that fell with regularity on our more rambunctious classmates. Martha and I became a couple without anyone but her mother noticing. Our dating was strictly limited by our age, parental concerns about grades, but most of all, by Martha's need to help out at her family's shop. Instead of going to a movie on Friday or Saturday, I would hang around the corner store to be with her. Mr. Fleischman slipped off a ladder and injured both his ankle and wrist. He was required to convalesce and could no longer do any lifting or carrying. With great reluctance, he offered me a position for an hour or two each day to move the heavier merchandise and deliveries. His frugality allowed me a small salary, but I did not care. I got more time with Martha. I would walk home with her, move a few things, and then deliver my papers.
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Some nights I would go back to study with my girlfriend and do a few more things to help in the shop. The lame father was always about somewhere, but he had a loud voice and a lot to say, so Martha and I knew when it was safe to hold hands or even sneak the first tentative kisses. Once, when I followed her into the back of the store, where the cozy apartment was located, Martha turned to me and hugged me, wrapping her arms around my back and resting her head on my chest. "Daddy went to the doctor," she whispered, "and momma said she would watch the store, so we can be alone for a while. " Her pretty face was so close to mine that I leaned down, drawn to her partly open lips, and kissed her. The kiss lasted. . . and lasted. . . her tongue stretching out to touch mine. I felt warm and my arms around her soft body sensed her growing heat. When we finally pulled apart, we were stirred up, slightly sweaty and rumpled. "Oh, wow! That was some kiss!" I said.
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"Yeah, I heard some older girls talking in school and decided to try out what I heard. That's called frenching. Want to do it again?" I leaned down and soon our lips and tongues were entwined. This time, in response to Martha's wandering hands, I began to explore her youthful body, starting first with her hips and buttocks. When I touched her ass, she reacted by rotating her hips and pushing herself against me. I could feel something that I had only experienced when I woke up in the morning: my penis was no longer limp. I tried to pull myself back, but Martha just moved with me. "I'm so sorry!" I moaned repentantly. "I can't help it. " "That's ok, Jimmy. I like the feel of your willie getting hard against me. I know that you see me as a girl, not just a friend. " "Of course I see you as a girl, Martha. You are a really cute girl. I'm embarrassed by what's happening, that's all.
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" "Don't be. I have a surprise for us. Momma insisted that I have time off from the store, and daddy agreed that he would keep you on after he gets better. That way, with you working too, I can have time off. We can go on real dates, and. . . " she smiled shyly at me, "and. . . Maybe we can be together. . . alone. " "Alone?" I mumbled, but my cock became rock-hard, telling me what alone might mean for us.
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"Yeah," I said smiling back, "alone. . . I like that. " Martha pressed herself to me, and feeling the increased size of my organ, grinned and said, "Let's go down into the basement. I want to show you something down there. I think you'll like it. " "What's that?" I asked. She only smiled and tugged my hand. Two minutes later alone in the basement, I felt Martha's hand against the front of my pants, stroking my cock softly through the fabric. It felt good. "Feel me too, Jimmy," she invited. I wiped my hands on my shirt and did something I had been thinking about in my dreams. I touched the front of her blouse, fondling her soft breasts under her clothing. After a few minutes she pulled back and unbuttoned her blouse and reached around behind her.
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Her frilly bra sagged loose, and she pulled it up, revealing her young breasts. "Touch them more, Jimmy," she urged. "Your hands feel good. " I didn't need an invitation because my hands rose automatically and cupped both soft mounds. Her nipples grew hard in the palms of my hand, and I rolled and tugged them softly with my fingers. I felt my zipper sliding down; Martha's hand was feeling its way through my underpants. Soon her soft, warm hand was gripping my rod-like penis, pulling it out. I moaned, and she began to stroke me. "Want me to make you feel good?" she whispered. I moaned again, but shook my head to show my assent. The girl's hand continued to pump on my cock; my hips oscillated under their own volition against her hand. A strange feeling grew in my balls, flowering like a pleasant, burning sensation. I moaned again and again as the fire built up between my legs. "Martha. .
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. Don't stop!" I gasped. "Please don't stop!" I was feeling something I had never felt before, and it was absolutely fabulous. The fire ran up my penis and some liquid emerged. The great pleasure soon faded, and I stood there panting with Martha's hand still pulling on my cock.
Looking down, I saw some whitish fluid on the end of my penis and on her hand. Some had dripped down onto the floor, leaving little damp spots. Grinning up at me, Martha asked, "Did that feel good, my sweetie?" "Martha. . . Martha, that was so good. What did you do to me?" She looked surprised. "You don't know? Don't you do that to yourself?" "N-n-no. . .
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" I stuttered. "I thought all guys did that. At least that's what the big girls always say, and they also say they do it to guys, to their boyfriends. It's called "jerking off. " She was wiping her hand off on a paper towel and then cleaned the sticky goo off the end of my wilting penis. "I feel stupid. I heard guys say that, but I didn't know what it meant. " I looked at her. "Do girls to that too? Do you. . . " "Yes, and. . . Well, yes," she replied flushing a little.
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"Can I do you now. . . make you feel good too?" Martha grinned and pulled up her skirt. I watched as she slid her panties down her legs and took them off completely. She had a little more hair than I did below her belly, but it did not conceal the cleft between her legs. She had me sit down in a chair that was pushed up against the wall and then sat on my lap, facing me, with her skirt up around her waist and her bare pussy just above my limp cock. "Rub your hand on my pussy, sweetie," she instructed. "And don't stop feeling my titties. " I put one hand between her legs and began to massage her plump pussy lips, and Martha responded by grinding herself against my hand. Almost by accident a finger slipped deeper. Between her soft labia I felt her wet inner folds. "Yeah, sweetie. . .
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that the way," she sighed. My fingers slid up and down my girl's slippery, juicy pussy while her hips rotated in my lap. Martha moved faster; so did I. Looking down at he soft breasts, I sensed a primal need and leaned down to kiss and lick her nipples. Arching her back, she lifted her chest to my face, enticing my mouth to work her little buds more. Her panting and sighing became a rhythmic moaning. "Uhh. . . uhh. . . uhh. . .
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" she breathed as her hips moved faster. . . and faster, and my hand moved to keep up. "Ohhhhh. . . yeahhhhh!" she cried out softly and held herself against me, her arms clutching my back. In a minute she loosened up and moved her hips, slowly and softly, groaning again as a tremor went through her body. "Are you all right?" I asked finally. "Was that good?" "Mmmmmm, that was sooooo good!" She pushed her face up, kissed my lips, and grabbed my thick hair, pulling my face to hers. We got ourselves together and removed the signs of our lewd actions. Upstairs we opened our books and pretended to study, but we kept looking at each other, making faces and snickering. Martha's mom brought us each a cold pop from the store, and looked at us suspiciously. "What's up with you two?" she asked.
"Nothing, momma," Martha answered, forcing her face to be more serious. Mr. Fleischman recovered and resumed his normal duties. I helped out so that the load was reduced. Martha and I went to our first movie and stopped at a diner on the way home for milk shakes. We sat in the store, taking care of the few late customers before we closed the door at eleven. Then I walked home. The winter came and passed. With the spring, a neighboring corner storeowner decided to retire and converted his shop into a bigger apartment. Loving his trade, he offered to help Martha's parents for a token salary, relieving the burden of their increased business. Mr. Fleischman gave me more hours, and I gave up my paper route to a younger boy. Martha and I had continued our touching each other and providing sexual relief and pleasure whenever we had quiet and private moments. Our time alone together increased, and we roamed farther field. Our ears were now attuned to the ribald talk of older kids, and we picked up hints of other sexual pleasures.
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We were alone in my house. Both my parents were working, but school was off. Martha was on my lap. We were both completely naked. She was sort of clutching my legs with hers and gyrating her hips against my hard cock. My cock, already hard and dampened from rubbing against her wet cunt, rubbed against her soft tummy. We were both panting from our exertions. I loosened my arms around her, letting her arch her back away from me, and my lips engulfed her nipples. Soon I was sucking, licking, and kissing them with my eager lips and tongue. Martha's fingers were digging into my back; she whimpered with her need. She clasped her hands around my neck, supporting herself and giving both my hands the freedom to run through her wet slit and tweak her hard nipples. She gasped, suddenly pulled away from me, and got off me. Martha grinned at me and ran her tongue over her lips. She lowered herself to her knees and looked up at me from between my legs. "How about a blow job?" she offered.
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We had both heard about oral sex, and had speculated naively about what it involved. To date, we had done nothing but talk about it, perhaps because we were afraid to attempt anything we knew little about. But now Martha was boldly taking the first step. "How about it?" I said, grinning back. Martha put her hand around my swollen cock and began to stroke it up and down with her soft hand. Looking up at me, she lowered her head and took my cock in her mouth, just the head, and started rolling her tongue around it and sucking me softly. The feel of her warm mouth was astounding. She continued to suck me while she caressed my balls with one hand and stroked the shaft with the other. Her thick hair concealed her activity from my view, but the feel of her mouth was driving me crazy. "Deeper," I groaned and reached down and pulled her head until she was taking more of my cock into her mouth. I heard her moan, and I knew she loved this too. I kept my hands on her head as she sucked and tongued my cock in her mouth, setting the pace for her fellatio. Martha was taking a good two or three inches of my five-inch cock into her mouth, sucking and slurping. Looking down I perceived that she was rubbing her cunt while she was sucking my penis. She was having a good time sucking me off and fingering her wet pussy.
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I felt a bit guilty that I seemed to be getting the best part of this action, but suddenly Martha lifted her head up and began kissing the shaft of my hard dick while looking up at me. "Do me for a while," she said and pulled at me as she backed up to lie on the edge of my bed. She spread her young thighs apart and ran her hand across her pussy. Her inner lips peeked out at me, inviting me to taste them. I knew that my girl wanted me to eat her out. "Kiss me, sweetie. . . kiss my pussy. " I knelt on the floor and pressed my face between her thighs. Gasping when my mouth pressed against her hot labia, Martha lifted her legs and draped them across my back. I began slowly. I kissed and licked. I probed and tasted. Then I went berserk.
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My mouth and fingers were on her, in her. She cried out from the vigor of my cunnilingual assault. Her legs pulled me against her juicy cunt. Her hands gripped my head holding me to her. Her sweaty body shuddered. "Aaaaaa! Aahhhh! Nooooo!" she screamed as a thundering climax surged across her body. She was pulling my face into her so tight that I had trouble breathing. Slowly Martha relaxed, and I laid my head on her mound, with the taste of her pussy filling my mouth and the aroma of her hot cunt wafting into my nose. "Oh, sweetie, that was the greatest," she gasped. Several minutes passed and Martha slowly rose from the bed and pulled me to my feet. Squatting in front of me, she looked up while running her fingers up and down my shaft. She swept her hair back and kissed the tip of my aching penis. I could see her eyes lift up to my face as she kissed and sucked me. All the while her hand fondled my balls and stroked my shaft. "I need to come so bad, lover," I groaned.
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"Faster. . . faster!" She moved her head and hand more rapidly. "Suck me, lover! Suck me off!" Now I was holding her head, holding her face to my erection, my cock shoved into deep her mouth. My semen began to rise up, flowing toward eruption. "Suck me off. . . I'm coming!" My hips undulated, driving my cock into her hot mouth. My first surge of cum shot out into her mouth and I could feel her swallowing my seed as it flooded into her. Martha was licking and sucking hard now, gathering in my hot spunk. With her lips locked around my thick shaft, she did not lose a drop. I felt her quivering and heard her moaning. "I came again while I swallowed your seed," she told me later as we relaxed on my bed, clutching each other.
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We were both spent; she leaned on me, as we lay sprawled together on my bed. "I loved sucking your cock, Jimmy, and I need your mouth on my pussy again, really soon. " "Mmmmmmm," I moaned as I savored the taste of her cunt. .
