I had slipped her underwear off one leg, pressed her knees apart, and kissed her full on the pussy, pressing in and up with tip of my tongue. She tasted delicious, as usual, and was already very wet. My finger slid straight up into her, and I hooked it round to massage the upper surface of her sheath, in behind the pubic bone, where some say the 'G' spot lies. It was certainly effective for her, although the simultaneous attack with my mouth on her clitoris might have contributed. She almost collapsed on top of me, clutching my head and shoulder for support.
"Oh Sean, oh my god!"
She staggered, pulling away, and had to lean back against the snooker table. Her eyes were wide. "Oh...god..." she panted.
"No, just Sean will do." I smiled
Her only reply was to push me onto my back as she stepped forward to straddle me. She lowered herself down, pulling my cock upright to meet her, and sinking onto it, enveloping me in a smooth, warm, wet, slippery tight embrace.
"Ooh god I have wanted that all day." She said, and paused for a moment, her eyes closed, her pussy lightly quivering on my shaft. She began to undo the collar and cuffs of her blouse, loosening her tie. Then she reached down and took the bottom of her blouse and in one movement pulled it off with her jumper and tie. It was a magnificent gesture, and when she undid her bra and dropped it behind her my breath was caught in my throat.
She began to ride me then. Eighteen years old, naked and beautiful, two days ago a virgin who had never let a boy touch her, now indulging her body in a slow sensual build up to orgasm. Words cannot describe the glory of her body, pale and soft, slim but with gentle curves, her skin coated in tiny pale hairs that stood up in the slightly chill air and glistened in the winter afternoon light. Her muscles and sinews tensed and stretched, and her breathing became rhythmic and a little louder, a tiny catch to it each time she pushed all the way down on me. And the scent of her, sweet soap, fresh perspiration from the effort, and spicy warmness of her sex.
I was in heaven. I was inside her.
She reached down with one hand and began to rub her clitoris. Her other hand wandered to play with her nipples. With her eyes half opened she spoke between breaths, "I did this last night. In bed, when I got home. I thought about you, what we had just done, and what you had taught me. And what the girls had said the night before. And it felt really good, and I imagined doing this. I imagined sitting on top of you, having you inside me, letting you see me like this, doing this so you could watch. It made me come, but it wasn't like yesterday. It wasn't as good. It wasn't as good as this is now. I love your cock in me. I love it in me when I come. Oh Sean I'm going to come now. Oh Sean, hold me!"
She fell forward with a series of jerks and her hips rocked her pussy back and forth rapidly. She came, gasping and grabbing at me, pushing down hard to drive me deep into her and crush her clit against the root of my cock. She kissed me and froze in mid kiss, her mouth open, breath held, her face flushed and body rigid, apart from the pulsing clenching of her muscles around my cock. Then she wilted, melted against me and began to draw deep breaths again. I held her and stroked her, and marvelled at how lucky I was.
As she recovered and lay on me totally relaxed I said "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I wish I could have taken a picture of you just then. You are simply gorgeous. How did I get to be so lucky?"
She stirred, and came up on her elbows, and smiled at me. "I saw you three years ago when you came to our school to a debate. You weren't like the other boys. You were smart looking, neatly dressed, but not like the swots or the Christians. Just like you looked after yourself because you valued yourself. And you spoke like that. Confident, but not smart-Alec, not cocky. You knew what you were talking about, and had no fear of standing up in front of two hundred people to say it. And your voice. So clear and quite deep, though you are deeper now. And a nice accent, not posh, not common. Your voice makes me shiver, in a nice way. It was your voice that hooked me. Of course you had a huge spot on the side of your nose, which was all the other girls could talk about when we compared the boys the next day, and all of them fancied that guy Davy, who was in upper sixth, but I just kept thinking about you."
I was stunned. I remembered that debate, being scared to death when I stood up to speak, and just dying every time a girl looked at my face. That boil kept coming back for months, and left a scar on my nose to remind me even when it finally stopped raising its very ugly yellow head. All I could say was "Really?"
"Yes. I love your voice. I went to every inter-school debate hoping to hear you. You speak well, you know, clever, funny, never rude or nasty, thoughtful. And you use your voice; volume and tone and effective pauses. Don't look at me like that, just because I appreciate a good speaker doesn't make me weird."
"Sorry," I said, "I'm just amazed. Three years ago? I wished you had said -- I mean we could have been doing this for the last three years..."
"Oh no we wouldn't!" she laughed, "For starters I was fifteen, and it ain't legal until seventeen, and anyway I was a well brought up girl who had been taught to say 'no' until I'm married. You might have got to hold my hand, and maybe a kiss, but even with your charms you would not have got me nude."
"So why are you nude now? Why did you do it with me?" I asked.
"Because you are still lovely, kindly, smart and funny, and have a voice that makes me quiver. And because I realised a few months ago that whatever my mother and the church say, I am not getting married until I have my degree finished, and I am not waiting 'til I'm twenty two to have sex. I have been horny for years. I never even realised what it was. But on Saturday night you kissed me and I my body knew exactly what it was missing. And, well, it is weird but I feel like I have known you for years. I feel like I can be your friend for ever. Even if we don't stay together, you will always be my friend. I think. I hope." She looked shyly at me.
"Jill Wyatt, you are a remarkable human being. I know what you mean about feeling like I have known you for a long time, but all this 'if we don't stay together' stuff... you aren't thinking of dumping me are you?" I asked this with real concern, and was surprised to register that in myself.
I had intended to seduce her and then move on to another of the girls on my list of 'ones that got away, but I'll get this time.' Now I found I wanted to keep her. In my previous life I had known her through decades of social events and occasional chance meetings. I had always enjoyed her company, and regretted that I had not dated her, and bedded her, before she met her husband. I had thought if I went back and had a chance to sleep with her then I would have something to look back on with warmth, rather than regret. But in this life the knowledge that this woman could be forever a great companion, a friend for life, and as sexy in forty years as she was now as an eighteen year old, was influencing me powerfully. She had met her first boyfriend, Fitzy, a classmate of mine, at a party a few months from now. They stayed together through university, married, had three kids, and were still in love, as far as I could tell, at his retirement party. Now I was her first. I could be me waking up beside her in forty years. I liked that idea.
On the other hand... the whole notion of this second attempt was to be able to use my knowledge and experience to better advantage, and part of that knowledge is the knowing that I am at heart a desperate romantic and serial monogamist, deeply loyal to my partners to the idiotic extent that I have missed, and regret missing, numerous opportunities to bed beautiful women. I didn't sleep with Jill last time because I was loyal to Penny. For the same reason I ignored a very blatant pass by Jo, and did not take advantage of an opportunity with a wonderful German girl on holiday in France. I didn't shag Shauna some years later because I was then going out with Ruth, who I married, and so never took up the other half dozen flirtatious offers I got over the next ten years or so, while I was still young enough to get them And there were so many more that I never even tried to chat up, flirt with or seduce, because I was too scared, too loyal, too ... too much me.
It was me being me that was starting to fall in love with this young Jill. Not just because I am very fond of the Jill she could become, but because she was just lovable, and I can't help being in love. If I had gone with her that first time round, would I have ever regretted it? Ever regretted any of the opportunities I didn't take up? Should I regret them? After all, being loyal is being me, it is what I do. If I had shagged Shauna, Ruth may not have married me. She might well have stabbed me to death in my sleep if she found I had slept with another woman after we married (and I say that with great affection). And to be perfectly fair about it, I have always been happy with my partners. Even now after thirty years of marriage to Ruth I am still in love with her more often than not. I had thought in this second go that I would just do it differently until I met her -- in eight or nine years. Although I had also thought of trying to meet her earlier, be her first boyfriend, see if we could just click and stick and grow old together, but I had rejected that just because I wanted a few years of bed-hopping teenage and college age adventure. Now here I am thinking about settling down with Jill, abandoning that plan. Just like I did with Penny, the first time round. Had I learned nothing?
Jill was smiling again. "Nooo," she said, "I wasn't thinking of dumping you, just yet. But you aren't the only fish in the sea, and nor am I. I don't expect you to always be with me, marry me, grow old with me, and all that. We may find other people we fancy, we might go on holiday apart, or off to different Universities, or just be walking down the street and meet someone. I'll be honest, if you hadn't kissed me, if it had been Lenny or Owen, or Max. No not Max, but one of the others, I would have been horny as hell and maybe ended up doing all sorts of things with them. And I am damn sure that if Jo or Penny had got hold of you first you would have spent the night snogging them, and have tried to have your wicked way. Although I don't think you would have spent the next day in bed with either of them, and you wouldn't be doing this with them now, because Penny wouldn't and Jo is all talk but I'm sure she has never done this. But I am awfully glad it was you. I wanted it to be you. And I'm just as sure that even if I had snogged Owen or Len, they would not have been a gentle and kind and confident and caring and wonderful as you, and I would not have ended up like this with them. And absolutely not this fast anyway. You are very special. You are not like the other boys, they are just, boys, impatient and thoughtless, but you, you seem, I don't know, grown up. In a good way. Not boring stuffy grown up, but just, trustworthy, safe. And so sexy. Those boys aren't sexy, they are just horny. And their voice would not have made me shiver inside. And I don't want anyone else now. And I am not going to dump you." I listened to all that tumbling out of her and found myself smiling again. "Well I am glad to hear it. Glad to hear all of it." I kissed her again, a gentle peck. She returned it, and the third kiss grew into a longer, stronger, deeper embrace. I moved my hands to grasp her more firmly, and realised that her back was cold, as was her bottom where my palm came to rest. I broke the kiss to exclaim "You are freezing! You poor thing, lying there nude. Hell I wish we had a blanket."
