A couple of Fridays ago my daughter Nancy (18) brought her best friend home from high school to stay for the weekend.
Nancy's friend, Cristina, also 18, was a shy Filipina, only 5'0". I figured her lithe, petite figure had a C-size bust. Cristina, like Nancy and all the other girls at the high school, wore a neat, white blouse and the school's regulation pleated red skirt. She had a shapely ass and curvaceous body. At least there would be some eye candy for the weekend.
During dinner conversation I heard that Cristina's parents were very strict Catholics and Cristina rarely got to go alone anywhere. Other than that it was mostly just girl talk; in other words, boring.
Mid-way through dinner the phone rang. It was the nursing home. Marilyn's mother was having another emergency. Next thing I knew, both Marilyn and Nancy were rushing out the door headed to the nursing home.
The nursing home is about a 3 hour drive each way so I figured they would overnight and not return until Saturday, noon at the earliest.
As the car disappeared in the distance I realized they had left Cristina behind. Thoughts started creeping into my mind: Filipina, young, cute, alone with me.
I asked Cristina whether she had any homework to do, and, when she said no, I offered to show her around my backyard garden. (It's a very large backyard with lots of secluded spots.)
Cristina, shyly looking down, the cross on the thin chain dangling from her neck, accepted my kind offer so I sent her out the door in front of me. That gave me an excellent chance to watch her short, red skirt bounce against her cute ass. I noticed that her white bra strap showed through her white school blouse although it was covered partly by her long black hair. She was a bit wobbly on her high heels and I guessed that, without the heels, her head could probably rest on my throat below my chin.
My rod hardened as I thought about this petite, shy, innocent-looking little Filipina walking into my garden. I badly need to get close to her, but was it safe? I wondered whether Filipinas were as easy to manipulate as I'd heard. Did I dare?
"Cristina," I said, "There are some beautiful flowers behind those trees. Would you like to smell them?"
"Sure, Mr. Roberts," she replied and I watched her skirt bouncing down the walk toward the trees.
Arriving behind the three large maple trees, Cristina stopped to gaze at the small bed of lavender bushes. Their fragrance wafted toward both of us.
Cristina remarked, "They smell lovely!"
She kicked off her shoes and bent from the waist to smell the lavender more closely. Watching from behind, I was thrilled as her short skirt rode up letting her thin, pink panties peek out. Her bare thighs were to die for! Stepping in front of her I admired her almond shaped eyes and cinnamon skin, and noticed the cross on a small chain dangling from her neck. Reflecting on all the women I'd had (without my wife's knowledge), I wondered whether I should add this one to my collection? Yes, definitely. A young Filipina would be a wonderful addition.
I said, "If you lay down in the bushes you'll smell of lavender all over. Your boyfriend would love that."
Again she shyly looked at the ground. Finally, she very quietly said, "I've never had a boyfriend. John at school asked me to go with him to a movie next week but I'm scared."
Feigning concern, I gently asked, "Why are you scared?"
Cristina squirmed a little and her face started to darken from heat. Obviously she was uncomfortable and embarrassed. She eventually said, almost inaudibly, "Mr. Roberts, I don't know what to do with a boyfriend. What if he wants to...to kiss me. Or, or ...something. If only I knew what to do!"
Seeing my chance I put my arms around her, drawing her gently to my chest. I was right; she did fit nicely under my chin. Her tender breasts pressed against my chest involuntarily. I said, "I understand. What if I help you so you'll be comfortable with John?"
Timidly she whispered, "Would you Mr. Roberts? Thank you very much."
She might not thank me after this because my thoughts were hardly on helping the poor girl. I'm just a lascivious old goat!
"Of course I'll help you, Cristina," I assured her as my hand slowly slid down her back, pausing briefly at the bra strap. I noted that it didn't seem to have a clasp at the back, no doubt it was a front-loader. My hand stopped at the small of her back as I asked, "Cristina, have you ever kissed a boy?"
Cristina pulled back, saying, almost inaudibly, "No, Mr. Roberts. I don't know how."
"I'll give you a lesson," I said in a teacher's type of authoritative voice as my hand went to her petite chin and raised it so I was looking into her soft brown eyes. Oh yes, I would definitely add this young Filipina to my collection.
As her eyes went wide, I lowered my lips to hers. Her face grew an even deeper red as she realized I was actually going to kiss her! My lips brushed her brown mouth. Drawing her close again so I could feel her young breasts yield against my chest, my tongue lightly touched her warm lips and I felt the heat of her face.
At first, she seemed stiff but then slowly started to press her lips against mine. My tongue now pushed between her lips and Cristina's mouth began to part. I no longer had to hold her to me because she had started to press against my chest. I imagined that I could feel her nipples harden as her young, soft boobs melted into my chest. The heat of her body warmed my chest.
My tongue now pushed into her mouth and caressed her soft, inexperienced tongue as I explored the hot inner workings of her face.
The hand that had rested at the small of her back now inched downward till it found the very top of her ass-crack. My index fingers softly pushed at the crack feeling her softness through the red, pleated school skirt. Her pelvis now seemed to crush forward as her entire body pressed against mine.
Her lips now eagerly pushed against mine as her tongue met and explored mine.
