The Touch - Sex Stories

The Touch

... reclined on the couch. “Come here, Anne, it’s time to give yourself to me.” “Okay.” she said, then uncurled and got back into his lap. “I’m really going to do it this time.” “I know.” he said. “And thank you for this.” She once again took him in hand and guided the tip into place. She sat down on it, sighing as it slid smoothly into her well lubricated depths. She put her hands on his chest for balance and started her up and down motions with her hips. “You had no hymen?’ he asked, feeling her taking his whole length fully into herself. “I…I guess not.” she said, a look of concentration on her face. “God, this feels so…” “I know.” he agreed, tipping her over onto her side. He got between her legs as she opened them for him, and began fucking her with long, deep, powerful strokes. She smiled up at him, her eyes half lidded with pleasure as he stirred up her deepest feelings and sensations that she had never felt before. “Oh, God, Anne, this is so good, so tight, so hot, so wet!” He grunted deeply, then abruptly pulled out of her and spurted several bursts of come onto her belly. It was so intense that the first one jetted up and splashed against the undersides or her tits, the rest of it coating her belly with long strands of hot, ropy come. “Oh, God, I just couldn’t hold it anymore.” he said, rolling off her and gasping for breath. He watched with amusement as she toyed with his come, the first she had ever experienced. She rubbed her fingers through it, feeling its texture ...

... and brought it up to where she could see it. She tentatively brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them off, savoring it’s texture on her tongue and tasting it for the first time. “What do you think, baby?” he asked. “You like it?” “It’s not so bad.” she said, getting another fingerful, bigger this time. She licked this one off, too, then a third. “You want to try it straight from the source?” he asked, sitting up. “I’d love it if you sucked me off.” “I’m not supposed to.” she said, in a small voice. “Good girls don’t do that.” “Who told you that?” he said, wonderingly. He saw the answer in her mind an instant before she voiced it aloud. “My mother.” she whispered. “My mother told me good girls don’t do that.” Right then and there he made up his mind to give her mother a visit that day. “Well, there’s one thing about you I’m going to be changing.” he said. She looked at him with fear in her eyes. “No, please don’t.” she said. “I don’t want to…” her eyes fell to his crotch, and she felt herself moving down towards it. “Please, I’m not…” she said. “I want to be a good girl!” “Yes, you are.” he replied. “It’s okay, Anne, lots of girls do this.” “I know.” she said. “But not me.” She went to her knees in front of him, then looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Please? Don’t make me do this!” “You know what I want, Anne.” he said, putting his hands on his hips. She nodded, then reached up her hand and took him in her grasp. He watched as she leaned her head closer, closer, ...