Maggie Simpkins stood at her bedroom window, looking down at the street outside. She began to have second thoughts about what she was doing.
Maggie had planned to go on a picnic in the park with Larry Helmer, her boyfriend of some months, then to a movie in the evening with him. But Larry had called her before starting to drive over and she had mentioned to him that her mother was about to leave and would not be back until late at night. Since her father was off on a week-long trip, she was going to be alone in the house.
Larry had talked her into having the picnic lunch on the kitchen table and spending all day, at least until the movie, at home with him. Maggie liked the idea of their being alone together, but she also had doubts.
Larry Helmer, on the other hand, did not have doubts, at least about what he hoped for from this day. What was going to happen was very much up in the air, but the outcomes ranged from pleasant to incredibly nice.
On the one extreme, they would talk and relax together and neck with each other until they left for the movie. On the other... the necking would lead to petting, and then to mutual undressing, until he had spread Maggie's legs and climbed between them. He would split the hymen that she had protected for eighteen years and enter her body, filling her with his erection until he brought her to an orgasm -- or, better yet, one after another, as the afternoon went on, and perhaps the movie could be postponed in favor of seeing in their bodies could peak together once more.
Either would be satisfying, but one would be so in more ways.
Larry thought about Maggie as he drove to her home and thought about what he wanted to do to and with her. He wanted to drive her too, drive her to distraction with kisses, with his tongue against his clitoris and in her labia, with his pistoning shaft in her body until they both went into overdrive and he pumped her full.
And Maggie had told him that the timing for the picnic was excellent, since another day or so later she would not feel like going out at all, because her period would have started and she was always grumpy and short-tempered on the first day.
This mean that if Larry succeeded in bedding this girl he might pump her full of semen without an contraceptive and with no danger of making her pregnant.
Maggie Simpkins saw him drive up from her bedroom window and as he got out of his car, she scurried down the steps and opened the door for him.
He shut the door behind him and took her into his arms, pressing her body to his though she denied him a tongue-kiss, at least for the moment. They sat and talked on the sofa, and kissed a few more times. About the fifth time she opened her lips for him, but when she broke it off she suggested that they eat lunch.
Larry Helmer was quite willing to let one hunger wait for a while in favor of another. But only for a while. He wondered as he walked to the kitchen how it would be to eat Maggie out, how she would taste as his tongue lapped and plunged. And there was the matter of Maggie's cherry... That would be very sweet to have, as he creamed inside her.
As they ate the mixed fruit and then the sandwiches that Maggie had prepared last night and drank the soda that Larry had brought, Larry wondered if Maggie would have been more relaxed out in the open. Probably not, he decided, She should feel more at home in her home, for all that the two of them were alone together for so long.
Maggie herself was wondering exactly how she felt. She was glad of the chance to take a break from the kisses, especially the deep kisses, that she had shared with Larrry. But on the other hand, she wanted to go back to them. He was giving her body sensations stronger that she had ever gotten from a boy before.
Larry pulled out as they finished the food a bottle of fortified wine which he had convinced a store that he was old enough to buy. Maggie had almost never touched even ordinary wine, so it was unlikely that she would have known that this bottle had extra alcohol injected, even if she had looked at the label, which she did not.
She had only a weak resistance to Larry before that lunch, and the fortified wine reduced it further.
It did not take very long before they were indeed getting inside each other's mouths. Larry Helmer put his hand inside Maggie Simpkins' blouse within minutes and then moved the left bra-cup aside.
His hand went around her breast and his fingers pressed the sides of her nipples. He twisted that slightly and she moaned into his mouth. His forefinger lifted and and rubbed the end of her little nub until Maggie squirmed in his arms, and arched her back toward him. That action gave him a vision of her body arching again, then time as she approached orgasm under him and she tried to force more of his erection into her. He raised his head to lick the nipple and blow upon it to make her cry out.
Larry had never gotten her to go this far with him before, and he was now sure that he was going to go all the way with her today. He was sure that he would soon have her deeply impaled on his spear of flesh and gasping and screaming in ecstasy as he drove in over and over.
But there was some distance yet to go. One floor perhaps.
"If we were off in the picnic ground, we would be spread out on a blanket," we whispered to her, ignoring that they would probably not be half-naked now.
"I don't know about lying on this carpet," she replied.
"No, someone might look in the window. Nut we could lie down on your bed."
It seemed to Maggie that there was some reason that they should not, but either her body was too aroused to let her remember why, or it was too aroused to allow her to care. Of course the fortified wine did not help.
They walked up the stairs together, his arm around her and her stomach still exposed. Her mind was in a muddle, between Larry's experienced arousal and the wine.
When they entered Maggie's bedroom, she paused for a moment to look out of her window again and thought back to how she had wodered if she had done the right thing in staying alone in the house with Larry.
But she did not get to dwell on that. Larry came up behind her and put his arms about her waist, at the same time bending down to nuzzle her neck. As she whimpered with the sensation, he moved his left hand up to cup her breasts and his right hand to press between her legs.
When he bent Maggie back to deliver another deep kiss, his right hand came up, then down, to slide under the waistband of her loose jeans and into her panties, where one finger found her labia to pass between them and in.
Maggie had done this to herself many times, especially lately as she lay alone in bed and thought about Larry, but to have it done to her like this was far more wild and uncontrolled and powerful. She sagged in his arms.
Larry drew her back now and lay her across her bed, to lie beside her, kicking his shoes off. Many times in the last half-dozen years Maggie had fantasized about having one boy or another of her acquaintance -- always Larry in recent times -- join her there, and now she was face to face and side to side -- perhaps soon gasping beneath -- the reality.
That particular mass of teenage hormones leaned over her as she lay on her back, and kissed her mouth, at the same time undoing the buttons of her blouse. As it was uncovered, he raised her left bra-cup from where it had slid back down, then lifted the other before raising her body to get at the fastening in the middle of her back.
He pressed her body to his, pushing the buttons of her hard nipples back into the flesh of her breasts. When he lifted up and began to remove his shirt, Maggie eagerly if shyly helped him. His young body had only a few chest-hairs, but she made the most of them against her sensitive skin when she drew him back.
This time her arms held him until they were both weak and out of breath. But soon after they broke away and lay in each other's arms, Larry's hand descended to the snap at her jeans-top.
He popped it -- thinking of how he hoped to soon pop the membrane of her maidenhead -- and began to slide the zipper of her fly down. When Larry reached the bottom, he lifted her hips and tugged on her jeans until they were bunched at her loafers. Shoes and jeans came off together, leaving her in only a blouse, white panties and open bra.
Maggie sat up now and the first and third of those fell to her bedroom floor. She rolled over further to open his belt and pants and help to remove his pants. He wore shorts beneath them, red with white dots, and a large bulge was very visible and almost through the opening.
Her hand went through the opening and rasped in her fingers what he hoped she would soon grasp in her vaginal-- ex-virginal-- walls. She had never in her life done the first, and certainly never the second.
They returned to kissing, and exploring each other, with so much more to easily explore. His fingers caressed the curve of her hips, back and forth, slowly moving closer to the boundary of her only remaining clothing and raising her anticipation and heartbeat together. Larry's hand went into her panties again, and his tongue was buried in her mouth when he brought her to orgasm with his hand, her first by a hand other than her own.
He let Maggie rest a little, then leaned over her and nudged her legs apart, to lie between them. He kissed around her cheeks and forehead and neck, pressing his chest to her breasts and his groin to her loins, slowly pumping his hips in blatant imitation of intercourse. He carefully aroused her body again and kept her that way, always close to another climax but somehow not reaching it.
Larry moved down her body, first to pay lip-service (and tongue-service, and a little tooth-service) to her proud little breasts and their raised nipples.
He moved further down, to pull down the white cotton panties that were all that she now wore. She gasped as she felt sure that she was about to be opened and filled by the long hard manhood of Larry Helmer.
She was wrong, at least for the moment.
