The Virgin And The Veteran

As I looked myself over in the mirror, I wondered why. What was I thinking? Take the dress off, put the sweats back on, and go back downstairs. I could hear Victor in the living room, shuffling around the coffee table.

He was here to help with the housework. I had hired him for the summer as he finished his first year in college. Barely 19, he wasn't anything special. He wasn't an athlete or any kind of hunk, but pretty average. He wore glasses and a buzz cut. I could see why most college girls ignored him. But me...I couldn't take my eyes off him.

After a few weeks working around my house, mowing the lawn, and whatnot, I thought I was brave enough to make my move. I had told him to wait as I went upstairs to get changed...

It was an old dress I hadn't worn in years. Backless, it sported a long v-cut in the front, almost down to my navel. The ends came up across my breast and tied behind my neck. I ran my hands across my hips, and turned to the side, examining my profile.

You're too old for this. What makes you think you could seduce Vic? Why would you try? He's half your age, less than half. You don't think it's right when those old geezers are walking down the street with some 20 year old bimbo; you're essentially doing the same thing.

I went back and opened the closet. I could hear Vic sorting through my CDs.

"Hey, Ms. Simons?" he called.

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I put some music on?"

"Sure go ahead." I heard the stereo drive whir and open. I pulled down the hanger for the dress and was about to take it off when I heard the music. It wasn't any new, alternative or grunge rock, or whatever those kids listen to nowadays. It was light jazz. Smooth, light, sax. Slow, easy beat. My favorite.

My hands were shaking. I had to see Vic. Don't do it, I thought. Put something else on first. But I was already at the door. I watched myself move down the hall to the stairs. Stop! This is stupid! Go get changed!

Down the stairs, one at a time. It took forever. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't stop. All the while, mentally yelling at myself to turn around. The last two steps, I could see the living room. I peeked around the corner and saw Vic, examining a vase on the mantle, his arms behind his back. He looked proud and strong. If he turned, he would see me, all of me. My voice failed me.

This was my last chance. I could make it back up the stairs before he saw, and get changed. He was being patient enough. I still had-

"Hi-" It just slipped out. I had ruined everything! Stupid! Vic turned around. He was immediately surprised. Then our eyes met and I forced a smile, the hardest thing I have ever done. And lo and behold, he smiled back.

"You look great." His quiet reply showed how timid he was as well. He stepped towards me. I brushed a strand of hair out of my face, and I began to feel better. The hardest part was behind. He just saw my dress. He didn't think of me any less, and nothing more had to happen. I stepped towards him.

We met at the edge of the living room. The blinds were drawn, as the day outside was getting hot, but it kept everything inside in a dim twilight. There were scented candles on the coffee table; some weird flower name I couldn't pronounce, but the fragrance always made me feel good.

The track on the CD changed, still light jazz, but it helped break the silence. We both looked toward the stereo, then back at each other.

"Would you like to dance, Ms. Simon?"

"Yes. And call me Callie."

Just like that, we were arm in arm. Sort of. Like clumbsy middle school students at our first dance, we were nervous about where to put our hands. I settled on his shoulders, while he held me at a distance around my back.

I could feel his warm hands on my skin, as we slowly began to move to the music.

"Just tell me when you want me to stop." Vic was always polite, asking the extent of the chores, since he was kind of overzealous in working. Now, he was asking my permission to proceed. Somehow, our bodies were working themselves nearer and nearer. His hands were now resting on the small of my back, while my arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Our bodies were now pressed together. I could feel his heart beating. I could feel my nipples under my dress were hard. And under his shirt, so were his.

My chin was now on his shoulder. His hands rubbed my back, sending shivers up my spine. His light breath on my ear gave me goosebumps. His hands began to move lower.

"Tell me when you want me to stop," he whispered.

"I will," I whispered back. His hands moved to my buttocks, soft and light. He didn't grab them, or push them. He just lightly massaged my cheeks, in a light rub. He ran his fingertips over them, and back up to my spine. I shivered, noticably.

"Tell me when you want me to stop."

"I will." It was like a game of Mother-may-I. He reached a point, then asked permission to proceed. This time, he kissed my ear.

I breathed in deeply. It was all I could do to keep from arching my back. He softly nibbled on my earlobe, all the time rubbing his fingers up and down my spine, first to my shoulders, then down to my buttocks. My knees were shaking. My loins were burning. I couldn't take much more. But I wanted it.

Then our heads parted. We looked each other in the eyes. Vic leaned in, and planted a delicate kiss on my lips. It was so light, but it lasted so long. I began to press back. The kiss grew stronger. I started to massage his lips with my own. Now I was taking iniciative. As our mouths opened, I slipped my tongue into his mouth. I was greeted with his. It curled back along mine, and into my mouth.

While we kissed, I rubbed his shoulders, bringing my hands down his chest. I began to rub his chest while he moved his hands up my back, and pulled the string on dress. The knot came undone, and he brought his hands down my shoulders, brushing away my dress as it slowly slid off my body. My breasts were exposed, but we continued to kiss. His hands ran across my nipples. We stood there, french kissing, and massaging each others breasts. If things had stopped right there, I still would have considered it a better sexual encounter than I ever had before.

His hands brought my dress down to my hips, and he began to work it down. I mirrored his moves, moving my hands to his waist, and undoing his trousers. I pulled up the hem of his shirt, and worked it back up his chest. Soon, however, it interupted our kiss, and he had to raise his arms over his head. His shirt was off, and we were both bare to the waist. We resumed the kiss as I continued to undo his pants, and he my dress. They both dropped to the floor. As we stepped out of them, our shoes came off.

Clad only in our underwear, we pressed against each other. I could feel his erection through his briefs, and I could feel the moisture in my panties.

He moved his kiss to my cheek, and from there to my neck. He slowly moved down my body, lightly kissing and licking along the way. He moved to my breast and began to massage my nipple with his tongue. My legs almost gave out. He moved further to my navel, and began to pull down my panties. He reached my crotch, and began to kiss the inside of my leg. With my panties around my ankles, I stepped out.

Vic was nibbling at the edge of my vagina. I had to take a break. I reached down, grabbed his hands, and stood him back up. We started kissing again, but it was my turn. I moved down his neck, to his chest. He moaned as I passed his nipple. Seeing that as a good sign, I paused a moment, kissing and licking his nipple, while tickling his other nipple with my fingers. With my free hand, I felt down to his briefs. I continued my decent as I worked his briefs over his erection, and down his legs.

I've never been one for deep throating. I gag too easily. But that didn't stop my from nibbling. Vic seemed to like that well enough, as I ran my lips and tongue up and down the underside of his shaft. I reached his scrotum.

I had never done this before. In 42 years, all my sex had almost always been missionary style, with oral once in a blue moon. But I had never kissed a man's sack. I paused. Better late then never, I guess.

I ran my tongue on the sack. Vic gasped and fell over the arm of the sofa. I had him where I wanted him (and where he wanted apparently). I continued nibbling his privates. I began to move back up to his chest. I crawled over him. This was it.

I slid on top of him. It's amazing what foreplay can do for you. There was no resistance; so scraping or rubbing of the skin. He just slid right in. It felt so right. Shivers shot up and down my spine with every stroke. As I pushed down, Vic pushed back up. He wanted this as much as I did. He massaged my breast as I leaned back.

The first orgasm came easily. I had almost had a couple earlier as he kissed me. So close they came, but faded away. Now they hit me like a truck. I moaned loud. I couldn't tell whether is was three or four orgasms in a row, or one big long one. Every time it began to fade away, it rebounded and came on even stronger.

"Wait, Callie!" Vic was breathing hard. I stopped.

"What? What is it? Are you okay?"

"Yeah...yeah I'm fine. I just need a break." I nodded and stepped off. He sat up and I sat down next to him on the sofa. He rubbed his phallus, and wiped away the pre-cum with a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

He looked back at me, and smiled. He ran his hand up my arm back to my neck, and began to massage. I nodded and purred, letting his fingers tickle the back of my neck. He leaned over and began to solidly massage my shoulders. I was already feeling so good, I didn't think it could get any better.

"You don't have to do that," I mumbled.

"Just tell me when you want me to stop."

"Don't stop."

He began to nibble my neck again while rubbing my shoulders. As he kissed my back, I arched my back. I was beginning to dry out, but Vic just started me up again. He laid me down on my back and began to kiss again. He moved right back down to my crotch, and I spread my legs for him. He went right for my clit. Licking, nibbling, and even sucking on my g-spot, those orgasms just hit me again. Each one faded only to bring on another twice as strong.

Suddenly, Vic stopped. Before the last orgasm had died down, he quickly, but gently, climbed back inside me. The pleasure I had gotten from him before was nothing compared to euphoria that hit me at that moment. I didn't want it to stop. And it didn't.

I don't know how long we went that day, but that doesn't matter. What matters is how well we went that day. The first 15 minutes with Vic were better than an hour with my (former) finest partner. Vic was a virgin, as far as I knew. But he was a natural. I was a veteran of sex, but he taught me things I never imaged. It makes me wonder who was the virgin, and who was the veteran.