Mark continues his telling what he and Peggy do, now after their second morning in his room. She does finally suck his cock and then tells him how she was inspired to do so. He doesn't have to ask if she loves to or how she learned to.
We washed a little, no shower, and went to the pool. I had been right; guys did look at her, and she had been right, that I was a little pleased, admitting that they were mostly younger teenagers just ogling any bikini. The guys our age mostly had a girl with them, most of them also in bikinis. When another youngster wandered around with his towel in his hand, I chuckled and told Peggy that he had it to hold in front of him in case he got a hard-on. She snickered and asked how I knew. I just grinned, and then we watch the others, several also with towels, a couple holding them like I had suggested.
We ate the sandwiches she had brought and swam a little, but mostly lay in the sun smirking at each other. When we saw another couple kiss, we kissed, but only as much as one could in public. On the way back home, we agreed reluctantly that we shouldn't see each other every day, agreeing "to go to the pool" again on Friday and a movie Saturday evening.
On Friday, of course, we only went to the pool after doing everything we could in my bed and as good as we had. She insisted on making me come again, a third time, since her orgasms had been so good. I was surprised that she again tasted mine, this time without commenting.
Saturday evening, we went to the movie, sitting in the back with other young people. When I put my arm around her, like a couple in the row before us, her hand landed in my lap. She had fun discovering how to move my cock around to let it stand up, but that was as far as it could go, of course. On the way home, we stopped again in the shadow, and immediately did as much as we could with our hands, but not enough. When we stopped and were continuing to her house, she hummed and said:
"Monday, we're going to the pool again. If it rains, I'll just come over. You can tell your Mom that we'll make sandwiches again. You'll have to make them, if the weather is good and pick me up."
"And if it isn't?"
"She shouldn't mind that I come over again, after a week."
"And then what will we do, if it's raining?" I asked.
"Mmmm! Even if it isn't! But we can worry about that then."
We parted with a kiss our parents could have seen, and I walked home, hurried home, eager to get in bed and anticipate what we would do on Monday. It was a lot more pleasure now, having fantasies about what we did together.
It wasn't raining Monday morning, but thunder storms were forecast. When Mom asked if Peggy and I were going to do anything, I told her that we were thinking about going to the pool again, which she thought was nice. I asked if she could come over if it rained, which Mom also thought was fine, again suggesting sandwiches. She went off to work.
I wondered if Peggy thought it looked so much like rain, that she would come over, or if I should grab my towel and trunks and go to meet her, just a couple of minutes walk. Since the weather was questionable and Mom had agreed that she could come over – she was going to, anyway – I didn't have to make the sandwiches. Before I had to leave to meet her, she knocked. Questions settled.
I opened, and she grinned, glancing at the bag with her things for the pool, and said:
"Told Mom we were going to meet there; thought that sounded less like a date. And yours?"
"Thought it was nice that we were going to the pool, but that it was fine if you came over, if it rained. Good idea of yours."
"Hasn't rained yet," she remarked, adding with a grin: "So here we are."
"Um-hmm," I agreed with a nod and smile.
She immediately nodding in the direction of my room and took a step in that direction. As I followed her, I wondered if I shouldn't have kissed her after closing the door, then wondered that we hadn't when leaving the house the previous week. Did we only kiss in the dark or in bed? It seemed so, but if she had looked like she expected a kiss, we would have. She was already starting to unbutton her blouse – a different one – by the time we were in my room. She dropped her bag, and we took off our clothes.
No, I thought, we only kissed when it could be arousing. She had on the same bikini under her clothes, one with formed cups that didn't let her nipples show, not like those with just triangles of cloth that did, sometimes even if the girl's nipples weren't aroused. Yeah, I had once been like those boys with their towel at the pool. I didn't have to look and wonder about nipples any more; Peggy had taking off her top and was stripping down the bottom, as my shorts came off.
After three days together, we had a pattern: she did it to me first, and then I made her come as good as I could, now usually as good as the first time I had used two fingers. I drew back the covers, and we lay down and cuddled, our thighs overlapping, just very familiar by now, my cock hardly anticipating what we knew we were going to do. Peggy rubbed my back and and said:
"Nice. Last night, no, this morning – well, both – I was wondering if there was anything else I could do, do it differently."
"I don't know," I replied: "I can't think of anything better; it's always better than what I do."
"And what you do, too, than what I do."
"Should be, well, I mean, not that I do it better, that we both think it's better with each other."
"Yeah, like that, too, but you do do it better – mmmm! - your two bigger fingers."
"Glad yours are so slender, then."
We chuckled, rubbing each others' backs. I liked that we just didn't immediately do anything; that would have been too "something," not so nice.
"Me too," she agreed, but then chuckled and added:
"But maybe if I used three?"
"Hmm? Could have thought of that last night or whenever."
"Maybe; didn't want it to be as good as with you."
"Kind of you. Already said that I can't do it better than you do."
"But I want to do something else. Can't you think of something?"
"Hmm? Hmmm," I thought for a moment and then chuckled:
"Once I just rubbed with one finger, on that funny place behind my knob."
"Where it's so sensitive? And?"
"Um-hmm! It worked. Only did it once, because it really likes to be held and squeezed."
"Hm-hmm! I can imagine why; wants to be where it should be, if we did that."
