My First Encounter With Rachel

The meeting broke up a lot earlier than I expected. I had about six hours to kill before my flight was to leave, so I decided to call my sister. We rarely had a chance to visit, because I never seemed to make it to Omaha except on business, so this evening would be a rare treat. And it would give me a chance to meet her new husband, Dan, and his daughter Rachel. I touched her number on my speed-dial and heard the pleasant "hello" on the other end.

"Hey, Janine. It's Jeff. What's up?"

"Nothing much, little brother. What's up with you?"

"Well, I'm here in town, and I've got some time on my hands for a change. How would you and Dan and Rachel like to go somewhere for dinner? My treat."

She gave it a bit of thought, then said, "Sounds good, but Dan and I have an appointment with the tax attorney at 4. We'll be back a little after 6. Does that give us enough time?"

It would. My flight wouldn't leave until 10:15. "That'll work," I replied. "Great. Why don't you come on over and catch some rest while you're waiting on us?"

That was a welcome invitation. Much better than sitting around in a hotel bar for 3 hours. "Thanks, sis. I'll be right over. See ya." I hopped into the rent car and headed her way.

I arrived at Janine's house, and got out of my car just as another car, full of school kids, was pulling up to the curb. A slender girl got out and headed toward Janine's front door. She was about five-foot-two, and wore a short, pleated skirt, black shoes with the clunky heels the kids love these days, and a baggy pullover sweater. Long, strawberry-blonde hair tumbled down her back, well past her shoulders, and she carried an armload of books and a small purse slung over her shoulder. She looked to be about sixteen years old, which seemed strange to me, since I knew Janine had said that Rachel had turned eighteen two months ago.

The front door swung open and Janine stepped out to greet us both. "Perfect timing, you two! Rachel, this is my brother Jeff. Jeff, our daughter Rachel." From under the armload of books, Rachel extended a small, delicate hand. "Hi, Uncle Jeff. Pleased to meet ya." I took her hand, and she squeezed my fingers and held on for only a second or two more than social custom required. This gave me the opportunity to check her out more closely.

Rachel had a clear, peaches-and-cream complexion, glittering hazel eyes, and a cute dimple in her chin. Her quick, sly, mischievous, almost conspiratorial grin almost shouted out "naughty girl" and intimated that she was more worldly-wise than her age would suggest. She flashed it at me before quickly turning away. "I'm gonna run upstairs and change," she called to Janine as she headed toward the stairs. "Don't run off to anywhere," Janine countered. "We're all going out to eat tonight." "Cool," replied the little lady as she disappeared.

Janine turned her attention to me. "Okay, Jeff, I'm off to meet Dan at the attorney's. Make yourself at home. If you want to watch TV, the remote's on the table by the easy chair. See you a little after six." And with that, she grabbed her purse and rushed out the front door. I didn't feel like watching TV. There was nothing good on at 3:30, anyway. So I picked up the morning paper from the coffee table, settled into the easy chair, and started scanning the headlines.

* * *

After about half an hour Rachel came back into the room, carrying a towel. She tossed the towel across the back of the sofa, and flopped herself down on the sofa cushions. She had changed out of her school clothes, and was now barefooted and wearing a skimpy athletic short set. It consisted of a pair of hip-hugging low cut shorts and a bikini-style top which was little different from an athletic bra. Stretching out on the couch, she lay on her back with her hands behind her head and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling.

As the minutes passed, it became harder and harder for me to avoid inspecting Rachel over the top of my newspaper. She was more than a little on the skinny side, and startlingly prepubescent for an eighteen-year-old woman. A real late-bloomer, to be sure. Her arms and legs were long and slender, but athletic, and there wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on her bare midriff. There was nothing of substance under the athletic bra; her chest was flat as a pancake. But, whether deliberately or not, she was displaying to me two of the most beautifully sculpted armpits that I had ever seen. And there was something else about Rachel that I found captivating, though it took more than a few stealthy glances at her from behind my paper before I figured out what that was.

Her ivory-white skin was perfect. Neither blemish, freckle, nor birthmark, nor the slightest trace of body hair was visible anywhere on her body. As I came to that realization, I found myself wanting to touch her all over, to lick every square inch of that perfect skin I could see, starting with those luscious pits. I knew it was wrong. I knew that she was almost jailbait, that she was my big sister's stepdaughter, that she was almost 20 years younger than me. I knew all that. But I just couldn't keep my eyes off her.

After a little while Rachel glanced in my direction, and though I averted my own eyes as quickly as I could, I knew I was busted. But she pretended not to notice that I had been staring at her. The faintest trace of a smile flickered across her lips as she arched her back slightly and stretched herself. This allowed the athletic bra to ride a little higher up her torso and exposed the lower half of her rib cage to my view. I tried my hardest not to be obvious, but I couldn't keep my eyes off her, nor could I shake off the suspicion that she was teasing me. As I tried to put that idea out of my mind, the girl abruptly sat up on the sofa and broke the silence. "Hey Jeff, I'm bored. Janine and my dad won't be home for a couple of hours. Ya wanna play with me?"

Grateful to dispel the growing tension in my mind, I folded my paper and replied, "Sure, why not? What've you got?" I thought she was talking about a video game or something, so I wasn't ready for the answer I got. "Tickle me." All I could think to say was "huh?", and I had barely gotten that out when she jumped off the couch, ran across the room and flopped into my lap. She flung both arms up above her head, exposing her gorgeous, hairless armpits just inches from my face, and said it again. "C'mon. Tickle me. I'm real ticklish."

This was either too good to be true or a disaster about to happen, but at the moment I didn't care which. With only the slightest hesitation, I ran my index fingers up and down her sides. She giggled and squirmed in my lap, and I suddenly realized that I was becoming thoroughly aroused. And there was no way that Rachel couldn't have noticed it, either. Abandoning all caution, I galloped my fingers harder and faster up and down her rib cage, as she howled and shrieked with laughter. She gripped her left wrist tightly with her right hand, forcing herself to keep her arms high over her head. "Higher!" she squealed. "Get my underarms!"

I reached around her back with my left hand and pulled her close, and holding her left elbow high overhead with my right hand, I brushed her armpit up and down, again and again, with my mustache. By now she was laughing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks. I pushed her out of my lap and stood up, grabbing both her arms at the elbows and lifting her off her feet. Since she couldn't have weighed more than 90 pounds, and my adrenaline was pumping overtime, I lifted her with ease. Moving from left to right, and back again, I worked her armpits over mercilessly with mustache, lips, and tongue. She thrashed about wildly, screaming and laughing convulsively as she struggled in vain against my firm grip on her arms. "Time out!", she finally gasped. She was out of breath almost to the point of fainting, so I carried her across the room and gently lowered her onto the sofa.

It didn't take the girl long to catch her breath. I stood above her as she lay on the couch, motionless but for the heaving of her chest, my eyes fixed on those adorable armpits which I had just so thoroughly enjoyed. At last she spoke. "You like me, don't you? You like me a lot. I could tell when I was sitting on your lap." I nodded. Stevie Wonder himself could have seen the bulge in my pants which confirmed that I still liked her a lot. There was no sense trying to hide it, so I tried to be nonchalant about it. "You're a real pretty girl, Rachel." That was the best I could come up with. It's hard to be debonair when you're as horny as a hog.

She quickly sat up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down beside her. "Let's play some more," she said, almost in a whisper, an obvious note of excitement in her voice. I was more than willing, but what I wanted to do more than anything else was to go to the bathroom and jerk off. "Are you sure you're up to it?" I asked. Once again, I wasn't ready for the answer I got. "Yeah, but let's do something else. You wanna take off my top?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned toward me and raised her arms straight over her head, expectantly.

To do anything else would have been inconceivable. My heart pounded and my hands trembled as I caressed the sides of her abdomen, hooked my thumbs under the elasticized lower hem of the athletic bra, and slowly moved my hands upward. My palms felt the ribs under the smooth, soft skin. My thumbs slowly explored the hollows of her armpits before tracing their path upward along the inner surface of her biceps. Rachel closed her eyes, bit her lower lip, and moaned softly as my thumbs departed from her pits. My palms and fingers caressed her shoulders, pulling the bra over her head, past her elbows and then her wrists, and finally to the floor beside us.

Time almost stood still. My eyes devoured the little angel as she slowly fell backward into a supine position on the couch, arms flung overhead in an attitude of complete surrender, and her feet swung up from the floor and over into my lap. I could hardly keep myself from ejaculating right then and there. My eyes feasted themselves on her breasts, or rather, on the areas where breasts would normally be on a woman her age. In Rachel's case, they were tiny pink nipples which happened to be hard as a rock.

Clearly, Rachel enjoyed displaying herself to me. She kept her gaze fixed on me for what seemed like half an hour, as my eyes ravished her. I wanted so badly to pinch the tiny buds on her chest. I craved the silky-smooth skin under her arms. I wanted, no I needed, to kiss her, to stroke her, to nibble her, to suck on her, forever and ever without stopping. My blood pressure must have been in the stratosphere, and I felt like I was about to pass out. Rachel slowly, sensuously shifted position on the sofa, and the sly smile on her face made it clear that she knew I was turned on and that she loved it. Finally, in the husky, whispery voice I had so quickly learned to adore, she ordered, "Now the shorts."

"Huh?" It was like I had just awakened from a drunken stupor. "Now the shorts. Take off my shorts, Jeff. Please." This last word had a bit of a begging ring to it which drove me wild. Without a word, I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and quickly pulled them off, and she immediately swung her right leg up over my head and behind my back, so that I found myself sitting between her knees. I turned sideways on the sofa, so I was facing her directly, and confronted the most awesome sight I have ever beheld, before or since.

I now knew empirically what I had known intuitively all along. There was not the slightest hint of blemish or flaw anywhere on Rachel's body. The sweet spot between her slender legs was devoid of pubic hair, and her thighs were spread apart enough to reveal the recent onset of early-stage pubescence. The lips of her womb were bright pink and slightly swollen, with tiny beads of moisture beginning to collect around her opening, and I knew that she was every bit as turned on as I was. For another eternity I gazed at her naked body. Her perfect skin. Her smooth, flat belly. Her tiny little pink nipples, perfect little cones like Hershey's Kisses, so hard that you could scratch glass with either one of them. And her soft, smooth underarms, so sweet to the taste, on which the tip of my tongue or the brush of my lip sent her into such shuddering paroxysms of hysterical laughter...hypnotized me.

So deep was my reverie as I stared at her, that I almost didn't hear Rachel's next command. "Finger me." I could only stare into her eyes, as in a trance, so she said it again, more urgently. "Finger me. Stick your finger inside me. I need to come now. Please. Make me come. We don't have much time."

Those last words snapped me out of my trance in a hell of a hurry. She was right. Janine and Dan had said they'd be home a little after six, and it was now five fifteen. Time flies when you're having fun, and we'd sure been having lots of fun. But now it was time to bring this thing to a climax, so to speak, and once again I was all business. "I have a better idea," I said, in my own husky, quivering voice.

Without another word, I slid my hands under Rachel's buttocks, lifted her bottom slightly, and buried my face between her thighs. I felt her shudder and heard her moan with delight as my tongue drilled through her beautiful pink defenses and began to explore her inner treasures. My tongue fluttered and lapped as I satisfied my thirst for her precious fluids, which now flowed so freely that I had to seal my lips around hers to prevent the escape of a single drop. The girl's body quivered and stiffened, her back arching as she strained against me, and a series of long, low moans escaped from her throat, betraying the deepening intensity of her pleasure. My tongue abandoned its circular exploratory mission and worked its way upward, located her tiny, pearl-hard clit, and began to besiege it relentlessly. Rachel's body shuddered and writhed as she screamed out an invocation, begging me for more, and her hands intermittently clawed at the sofa cushions and pressed against the back of my head. She was coming now, over and over and over, wave after wave of shuddering, shattering orgasms propelling her body into uncontrollable spasms of total release, as her vagina gushed its nectar into my mouth. With a long, catlike squeal and a final invocation of the Deity, her body made one last bone-rattling convulsion and went limp.

She lay there for several minutes, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, while I dabbed the last of her bodily fluids from between her legs, taking care not to spoil the sofa cushions. Tears ran slowly down her cheeks as she regarded me adoringly, thankfully. "That was so good...sooo good..." she murmured. She had been brought into a state of utter release, complete and total ecstasy, but I still had a problem. A real hard problem, right there between my legs, and it was driving me crazy. "Rachel...I need you...I really need you...right now..." I begged her.

A funny look crossed her face. I couldn't tell whether it was fear, or indifference, alarm, or what --- but I knew I didn't like it at all. She finally replied, and as was usually the case with Rachel, I wasn't ready for the answer I got. "Please, no. Please don't fuck me. I'm not on the pill, and Daddy would kill me if I got knocked up. But you can fuck my underarm if you want to. I know you love my underarms." With that, she rolled over slightly on her right side and raised her left elbow above her head, offering her smooth, creamy-white armpit for my satisfaction.

I didn't need to be told twice. With trembling fingers I quickly got my belt unbuckled, and let my trousers and my boxers drop to my ankles. My cock had swollen to a size I had never before seen it achieve, and was so hard you could have broken it with a stick. Dropping to my knees on the carpet in front of the sofa, I found that my cock was perfectly aligned with Rachel's left armpit, which was stretched out wide and invitingly before me. Quivering in anticipation, I slipped the head of my cock into the satiny-smooth hollow of her pit. "Mmmm, yeah, that's right," she cooed, as she slowly and gently lowered her elbow until the first three inches of my meat was trapped in the caress of her soft skin. "Go ahead, man," Rachel urged me on. "Use me. Yeah. Ohhh, yeah. Use my pit." Slowly, rhythmically, I began thrusting my throbbing member back and forth into her armpit. To my delight, she responded by slowly moving her elbow forward and backward, caressing the rest of my phallus with the upper part of her inner bicep. The sensation of her pit skin on my dick was indescribable. I wanted it to last forever, but I had been overstimulated for quite a while now and I knew I was about to lose it. I clenched my teeth and concentrated, trying to delay my orgasm as long as possible. Rachel sensed that I was fast approaching my climax, so she readied the towel in her right hand to keep me from drenching the sofa cushions. "Go ahead," she whispered. "Come. Come all over me. Give it to me. Please..." And then it happened. As soon as I heard that last word, I started losing my load. Shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, two, three, four, five, six times I shot my hot seed into her underarm, and she giggled as she wiped up the mess with the towel. Obviously, she was much enjoying the tender torture she was inflicting on me. With the long, low groan of a dying man, I squirted my last droplets and collapsed backward onto the carpeted floor. How long I lay there, with the room spinning around my head, I don't remember.

* * *

A car door slammed in the driveway, immediately followed by another car door slamming. Rachel's eyes widened. "Fire drill!" she whispered urgently, as she grabbed her shorts, her bra, and the towel and sprinted for the staircase. I leaped to my feet and hauled up my boxers and trousers. I had just gotten my belt buckled and settled back into the easy chair when the front door swung open.