Adventures with Jeannie

Jeannie had been a friend for several years, but initially James hadn't found her very attractive. Indeed she was tall and thin - athletic due to her training as a gymnastics instructor. She had small breasts that showed well under the shirts she wore with perky nipples often denting the material. She had a well-toned stomach and back. Her buttocks were small, tight and rounded. She had blonde hair down to her shoulders and pale white skin that was covered in an almost invisibly fine layer of downy hair.

But otherwise she was rather plain. Her face was youthful, innocent, and slightly horse-like. The downy hair that covered her body near-invisibly was more noticeable on her upper lip, especially when the light hit it just right. She didn't seem to feel that waxing it was necessary. James liked natural looking girls, but he wasn't so sure about that upper lip.

It all changed when she must have decided to start waxing it, for all of a sudden the slight shadow above her lip was gone and her appeal in the eyes of James skyrocketed. Out of all his female friends, he enjoyed her company the most. She had a sharp mind and they made each other laugh with ease.

James started thinking about her often and fantasized about what she might be hiding beneath her composed, disciplined exterior. Deciding to bite the bullet, he confessed his feelings over dinner one night as his apartment. Surprisingly, she expressed a similar interest in him and after dinner they shared a cautious kiss on his couch.

It was a good kiss so they decided to try another. By the time he walked her to her car, he had sustained a noticeable erection in his pants long enough to dampen his underwear. They would later debate: "was that Date 1 or Date 0?"

Kissing turned out to be their thing. They made out at every gathering with friends: in hallways and stair wells, in the car, in bathrooms and back yards.

Nonetheless, Jeannie wanted to take things slowly. A bad experience in the past had left her wary of men, which was part of the reason that she hadn't had a boyfriend in several years. She was exceedingly cautious about sex.

That didn't mean that she didn't like to mess around. At a Halloween party a few weeks after Date 0 or Date 1, she dressed up as a French maid, complete with short black and white skirt, and fishnet stockings. It was so out of character for her that she turned a lot of heads that night, including James's. He drove her home from the party and they stopped at a dark pull-out on the road to make out. They had both had a few drinks and their tongues writhed together hungrily like wet snakes in a mating embrace. James's hand found her fishnet-wrapped thigh and started moving upward. The stockings ended under her skirt, near her groin, and instead of the rough mesh, his hand touched soft skin instead. She gasped, but didn't stop him and instead moved let her legs further apart. His fingers found a slight prickle of hair, then soaking wet panties. He pried gently at the edge of the fabric with his fingertips, where he could already feel something escaping. Her underwear slid aside easily, providing him with a handful of slippery flesh that split apart into two thick wings. Where they joined he entered easily with first one, then two fingers while she reclined in the car seat with stiff thighs. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

It didn't take long before her whole body went rigid and she began to shiver. She orgasmed in complete silence, but with her mouth wide open as if screaming, her eyes pressed tightly shut. When it was over she kissed him again, but did nothing about the painful bulge in his pants.

On their next date she showed up at his apartment during the day when his roommate was away. It wasn't long before they started making out in his room with all the doors wide open. She was relaxed about taking her shirt off, and her bra. Laying back on the bed with her perky breasts projecting upward, she kissed him hungrily while he fondled her pink nipples and the firm lumps of flesh on which they perched.

Soon James was undoing her belt, unlatching her jeans and sliding them down her legs. He did the same with his own pants as efficiently as he could until they were writhing together, bare legs to bare legs. He made an effort to press the large bulge in his groin against hers, safely separated by the double layer of both their underwear. All was going well until he made an attempt to pull down her panties, at which point she recoiled and jumped off the bed like a frightened deer. She sprinted to the open doorway, breathing hard, then paused with her arms outstretched and braced in the door frame.

James slid off the bed, his heavy, swollen penis straining against the thin material of his underwear. He dropped to his knees on the carpet and crawled towards Jeannie. He was frustrated by her coyness, but didn't know what to do about it. He just wanted to stop her from going any further so, still on his knees, he grabbed her by the calves with both hands. He gently held her stationary in the doorway while her arms pressed against the door frame as if she were being crucified there.

She didn't move. Nor did she say anything, but he could hear her breathing heavily and there were goosebumps popping out all over her thighs. Without pause, James moved his hands up her legs until he reached the waistband of her panties. They were light blue. Cotton. He grabbed them quickly and slid them down her legs.

She still didn't move. Maybe because she changed her mind or maybe because he kept at least one hand on her legs at any given moment to dissuade her. When the panties fell to her ankles, he urged her to lift one foot and then the other until they were free. Then he looked up.

He didn't look directly at her out of fear that it would make her think, and that in thinking she would decide once again to flee. Since their first date he had been good-naturedly accusing her of overthinking things. Kneeling at her feet, he thus avoided eye contact and looked no higher than her thighs, where the goosebumps had grown in size and quantity. He could even see the little hairs on each one standing up like tiny reeds. Was there a breeze coming in through the window?

Then he looked higher and saw her sex for the first time. There was a tuft of short yellow hair and below it a red dewlap of flesh. James had seen a few vaginas up close before, but this one was something else. Were it possible for a vagina to have a personality, James would have described it as "highly extroverted".

Its lips were large, but not long and flappy. While they extended outward noticeably, they also clung together tightly and formed a long knotted seam that started at the front of her groin and disappeared deep between her legs. Most noticeably, however, the seam was bubbling with clear slime that had released a long, stringy drip that hung between her legs like a strand of spider's web. For a few seconds James watched it grow and grow until it almost touched the carpet before breaking off and disappearing into the thick plush. Moments later a new drip appeared.

He wasted no time maneuvering his head between her legs. Her gymnastics training had made her thighs incredibly strong and as he moved his face below her, she bent her knees just enough to reach him with her groin. Thus James was presented with the full, sticky length of her organ. He didn't have to do much other than hold his head up, for as soon as his nose touched her flesh and nudged the two swollen lips apart, she lowered herself further and began to slide back and forth. The petals spread. They were thick and bright pink inside. They almost suffocated him as she dragged them back and forth over his mouth and nose, coated in sour, sticky slime. She knew what she wanted.

Every so often he made his tongue stiff and pushed it upward as far as he could, trying to penetrate her, but he was only half successful due to the rhythmic back and forth motion she was making. He hadn't known any girl who would have attempted anything this physically ambitious. He could feel her thighs trembling from the strain. He too could barely hold his head up due to the burning pain in his neck, but there was no stopping now.

It didn't take very long. Her movements became more rapid and she pushed harder into his face that was now coated in her liquid. She moved her hips back and forth with purpose, as if she were fucking some stationary, inanimate object. Then she suddenly stopped moving, her thighs clamped tightly to his ears, and really started to shake. He tried to push his tongue up inside her, but the opening had clamped shut and all he could do was feel the pulses of her orgasm through the clenched muscle.

Then it was over. She unclamped her thighs and released his head. When he looked up he could see that her face was red and sweaty, her eyes glistening. Her small breasts drooped from her skinny chest like warped cones and she was still covered in goose bumps. She was buck naked in the doorway of his bedroom. She was smiling.