I had just graduated from high school. High school had been a fair academic success, but a huge social flop. I had been to two parties and had three dates, each with a different, and somewhat discouraging, girl. It did not help being poor and not so attractive. The girls liked the guys with cars and cash, even if they might be short in the looks department. If it hadn't been for certain well-known men's magazines, I would never had discovered what girls looked like.
I was riding my bike home from a summer job when I heard a girl's voice calling my name. I stopped and looked around; then I heard my name called again. I noticed a girl from my math class, Brittany Felucci, standing behind the hedge that ringed her back yard. I pedaled over to her and asked what she wanted. She asked a few questions about my job and my college plans, and I asked her similar questions. She was a cute girl, a little heavy, but with a pretty face and soft, dark hair. I knew that she was intelligent also because her math tests often had higher scores than my own.
"Do you want something to drink, Sam, lemonade or pop?" she asked after we had talked for a while.
I was thirsty from work and talking. "Sure," I said.
"Come into the back yard, and I'll get us something." She turned away toward the house. I wheeled my bicycle into her yard and sat down at a picnic table. Brittany appeared with two big glasses of lemonade. I took a sip and discovered that the drink was made from real lemons and tasted great.
"This is really good," I said. I drank some more.
"Thanks, Sam, I made it myself," Brittany replied smiling.
"You really know how to make it well; I tried a couple of times, but it never tasted like this." Brittany was pleased with the compliment, so I managed to slip in a few more as we chatted. She was so nice a girl.
We finished our drinks. "Do you want more?" she asked. I told her that I could drink another half glass. "Come with me into the house," she said, and I followed her in, carrying my glass.
We sat at her kitchen table. She had poured out some more for me, but took none for herself. I carefully let my eyes roam over her, but Brittany finally caught me looking. She smiled.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Brittany, you're a really cute girl," I answered sincerely, "really a very pretty girl." She was too; I didn't need to exaggerate.
She beamed. "I never see you with a girl," she remarked.
"I don't have a girlfriend. I don't have a car, and I don't have much money," I answered. I saw her looking at my face with concern; she must have seen into the depths of my personal torment.
"Do you want to see something nice?" she asked after a pause.
"OK," I answered, breaking out of my temporary depression. I got up and followed her. Brittany went down a hall and into a room, her own bedroom. It was a little messy; things needed picking up, but it was clean. Her room was very feminine, but also had a desk and lots of books.
"My parents won't be home until seven," she said. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. I was amazed at what I was seeing. She stood there in front of me with her well-filled bra staring me in the face. "We have four hours to get to know each other better." Brittany moved toward me.
I couldn't believe it. I really nice-looking girl was making moves toward ME! I reached out and put my arms around her. We stood there rocking back and forth for a while. I could feel her soft breasts pressing against me through the fabric of her bra. She turned her face up to me and we kissed. We kissed again and again; she told me how to do it, how she wanted it. I was the student and she was the teacher.
"Take your shirt off, Sammy," she instructed. I didn't wait to be told a second time. She unhooked her bra, her soft breasts hung down when they were released. I could see the red marks of her bra on her smooth skin. She had big dark areolas with nipples standing out in their centers. We hugged and kissed again, this time with our warm, naked skin pressed together.
Brittany took one of my hands and placed it on her breast. I began feeling it. It was so soft and smooth, but the darker areolas were bumpy and the nipples were hard. They felt bigger than before. I knew something else that was much bigger; it was straining my underwear. She pushed me downward. "Kiss my boobs, Sammy; kiss them and suck on them."
I didn't hesitate for a second. Soon I was on my knees in front of her with my mouth on one nipple and my hands squeezing each fine breast. She and I were of just the right dimensions that her breasts were level with my face when I kneeled. I could have sucked and kissed for hours as I tried to give equal time to each delightful breast.
Brittany and I enjoyed that position for many minutes; I saw that she was unfastening her shorts. As I sucked and fondled, she slid them down as far as she could reach and let them slip down by themselves to the floor. She stood there in the puddle of her shorts in just her thin cotton panties. I leaned back and looked. I could see a darkness at her V through the thin, white fabric, and some hair curled around the leg elastic. Brittany used this opportunity to slide her panties to the floor. I smelled for the first time something that I have loved ever since, a wet, eager pussy.