textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/so_shy.txt

			     S O   S H Y

			   By Scott Sanders


Jenny Gallagher was painfully shy.  She was the kind of girl you could
be in a class with all semester and never realize she was there until the
last day of class, when she tripped on a desk leg or sneezed during the
final.  She was a nonentity at my high school.

One day I decided to say something to her.  I had literally never seen a
person even speak to her about anything.  Even the teachers seemed to
sense that she was too shy to be called on during class, and not one of
them ever tried to draw her out that I could see.  Guys were not
interested in Jenny, even though if you looked carefully you could
see that she probably had a decent body hidden under those shapeless,
frumpy dresses, and she certainly had a nice face;  when you could see
it, that is, which was seldom.  She usually had it turned toward the
ground, or buried in a book, or hiding behind her long, dark black hair.

She always ate lunch alone, sitting on the brick retaining wall that
surrounded the base of the flagpole.  It was out of the way, and there
was only enough sitting space for two people, sitting somewhat close.
There was little chance of anyone sitting next to her, so she was "safe"
there.  I don't know what made me want to approach her: perhaps it was
just curiosity, perhaps even a touch of pity.  It was just that I had
begun to notice her more, sitting in the back corner of my math class,
hiding in the last clarinet row in orchestra, and sitting on that
obscure brick wall, and I felt some strange desire to at least hear what
her voice sounded like.

So at lunch time, I decided to join her on her wall.

"Excuse, me.  Is there anyone sitting there?"  I said, having stepped up
quietly to a position directly in front of her.

She jumped a little, and looked up from her sandwich, long locks of her
jet black hair sweeping into her eyes.  She pulled the hair away with a
fingertip in a gesture that would have pushed gone perfectly with
pushing glasses up on her nose, if she wore them.  She said nothing.

"Uh, can I sit there?"  I pointed to the spot next to her on the
planter.

She lowered her gaze again, and nodded, scooting to one side and
hunching her shoulders.

We sat for several moments, munching our lunch, before I spoke.

"So, I think we're in Mr. Hardy's math class together," I said.

She nodded again, quickly, never looking up.

"Yeah.  So, anyway, did you understand that stuff today about cross
multiplying ratios?"  I had understood it fairly well, but perhaps a
direct question might get her to speak.

She shook her head.

"Me neither.  I'm just not that good at math."  That was true enough.
She responded with silence.

I suddenly felt like I was really bothering her, that I had invaded
someone's very private space, and I felt guilty.  "Look," I said, "I'm
sorry if I bothered you.  Really.  I didn't mean to."  I got up to
leave.

I thought I heard her make some noise, like "Juh" behind me, and I turned
to look, but she was still staring down, still hunched into a protective
little ball.  I left.

I figured that would be it - she'd be terrified of me now, and I'd never
even hear her speak.  But the next day I caught her looking at me in
math class, and then again across the lunch quad as she sat on her wall
and I stood in the lunch line.  Her look told me nothing, really, just
sort of a blankish stare that ended as soon as she realized I was looking
back.  But the mere fact that she was looking was significant, given
that I'd never seen her look at anyone before.

So I thought I'd try again.

The next day at lunch, I approached her retaining wall again.  She
seemed subtley different somehow, but I could not put my finger on it at
first.  At first, I made no move to sit with her, but stood nearby,
looking at the tree that stood next to the flagpole.

Finally, I spoke:  "Hi Jenny."  I did not turn to look, figuring that
she'd have to say something to such a casual greeting, that she should
not be so rude as to just ignore me.

"Hi," she said after a moment, her voice very small but notably soft and
lovely.

Surprised at finally hearing her voice, I turned to look at her, then
realized what the change was that I had sensed.  Her hair, which was
usually hanging straight in front of her face, had obviously had some
attention.  It looked clean and soft, curving away from her face in a
gentle wave.  I'd never seen evidence that she'd paid attention to her
hair before; now she'd obviously done something to it.  For me?

"Uh, do you mind if I share the wall with you again?  I promise to keep
quiet," I said.  She looked up at me, our eyes meeting briefly, a blaze
of brilliant green flashing in hers.  I smiled, trying to look harmless,
and she nodded, looking back down to her food.

We ate in silence for what felt like an hour, but was certainly no more
than 10 minutes.  I tried to concentrate on my food, but I also noticed
that she smelled very nice, like a lemon grove or a tea shop, as though
she had put on some kind of old fashioned perfume.  There was a decided
tension between us, but I could not identify it.

I was surprised when she was the first to speak, or almost speak.

"I-I-I," she began, then gulped her breath, "d-d-dont m-m-m-ind if you,
tuh-tuh-tuh.... tuh...."  Her face grimaced as I looked at her,
obviously struggling to speak, but determined.  "Tuh-tuh talk."

I stared at her, perhaps a bit too long, and she looked mortified.  I
had heard her secret - she was a stutterer, and pretty severe one.  It
took me a moment to realize that my stare was telling her I was
disgusted by her problem, and as she began to rise, to run away, I tried
quickly to explain.

"W-Wait," I said, my old stutter returning.  "I underst-st-stand..."

She turned to look back at me, rage and disappointment in her eyes, then
began to walk away quickly.  She thought I was mocking her, of course.
How could I explain?  The tension of the moment had brought back the old
monster, the stutter that had plagued me when I was in grade school.  I
had to tell her, or she'd think I was an asshole, like so many who had
probably made fun of her throughout her life, and somehow that seemed
like the worst thing that could happen.

I ran after her, trying to tell her that I was not making fun of her,
but the more I tried to speak, concentrating on not stuttering,
naturally the more I stuttered.  That's how it works.  She escaped in
the girls bathroom and would not emerge.  I felt horrible.

For the next week I tried in vain to talk to her.  Her radar was up for
me, and whenever I'd approach her wall, or walk up next to her after
math, she'd slink away.  Her hair was back to a stringy mop, and she
was dressing in even more somber clothing than usual.  Finally,
frustrated and angry at myself, I had the presence of mind to write her
a note and slip in into her locker.

"Dear Jenny,
I know it must seem to you that I am making fun of your speech problem,
but please believe me that I am not.  I use to stutter very badly, and
was only able to get over it through a lot of speech therapy.  When I
realized the other day that you thought I was making fun of you my
stutter came back with a vengeance, I guess because I wanted too much
not to stutter.  I'm sure you understand what that's like.  I think you're
a nice person and I did not want you to think I was disgusted or amused
by your problem.  I'm not.  I'm like you.
					  Scott"

I slipped the note through the crack in her locker door, and the next
day I sat on that retaining wall, getting there early, making sure I got
there before her.

She did not show up until well into the lunch hour, and I began to think
that she had not believed my note.  What more could I do?  My folks had
noticed that my stutter was back, though only mildly.  I felt if I could
not resolve this problem with Jenny, however, that it might come back
completely, and the thought of fighting with my mouth every time I
wanted to speak, again, was horrible to me.

But she finally did show up.  She'd done her hair again, and she was
wearing jeans and a light green T-shirt.  She had something of a smile
on her face, just the barest hint of turning at the corners of her
mouth, but for her this was a major event.  She'd believed me.  What a
relief.  She approached the wall, then stopped a pace away and stood
silent for a moment.

Finally, she drew in her breath, and said: "Do you m-m-m-m-mind if I
s-s-s-s-sit huh...  huh.... sit here t-t-t-too?"

"Sure," I said, amazed at her determination.  I knew how tough it was
for her to do that.  Stutterers would rather be alone than face any
confrontation that might force them to speak.  She'd done a very
difficult thing.

We sat for a moment, looking at, then not looking at each other.  I took
the chance to really see her - she was beautiful.  I could not
understand how I had not seen it before, even though she usually hid
behind baggy clothes and dirty hair.  Her face was bright and lovely,
reminding me a little of Jodie Foster, and her body, finally discernable
in her T-shirt and jeans, was shapely and firm.  I took her in, feeling
the beginnings of attraction.

"I'm really sorry about last time," I said.  "I didn't mean to make you
feel like that.  Sometimes it's so h-h-h-hard to make my mouth work right,
especially when..."

But she held up a hand to cut me off.  "I kn-kn-know.  Really."  She
smiled a little broader and handed me a note, then blushed deeply and
turned away:

"I of all people should have understood what was happening to you.  I
get so defensive some times that I forget to think.  Please forgive me
for being so rude to you."

Not exactly a love note, but it touched me nonetheless.  I folded it
carefully and put it in my pocket.  She turned at the sound of the
folding paper, and looked stunned that I was keeping it.

"That's OK.  It was just a misunderstanding."   I smiled, and she smiled
back, a little.  I was struck suddenly by how the green in her eyes was
made even more brilliant by the shirt she was wearing.

Maybe I could help her.  "Look, " I said, being careful not to sound
patronizing, "I've been through this.  Maybe I can help you."

She shook her head.  "T-t-t-tried bef-f-f-fore.  Nobody c-c-c-c-can stop
this st-st-st-st-stupid thing."  She looked dejected.

"That's what I thought, but I was wrong.  What have you got to lose?"

She looked at me, a strength and coldness to her gaze.  I knew what she
had to lose.  Every time you tried to get rid of the stutter and failed,
it got worse.  The guilt, the anger, the frustration, all came out in
those rapid-fire syllables.

We sat silently for a while, munching our sandwiches and thinking.
After a while, she stood.  "Okk-k-k-k-k-kay, Scott.  I'll t-t-t-try,
but..."

But you'd better not let me down, her eyes said.  "I'll do my best," I
said, feeling like I was making a big mistake.

For the next three weeks we met every lunch at the wall.  I tried
everything I knew; saying the words in reverse order, translating them
to another language and back in your mind before speaking (she knew
German), reading nonsense poetry, vowel sounding, and dozens of other
tricks and techniques that she'd probably seen before.  Throughout it
all she was patient and cooperative, but got nowhere.  There was no
question that we were becoming close friends during all of this, and
perhaps more.  But I could not seem to help her.

At the end of all that I was pretty frustrated with myself.  I felt that
I had let her down and told her so.

She shook her head, smiling a smile that had never seen the light of
day before, that I knew of.  A broad, real, unreserved smile.  "N-n-no,
Scott.  N-n-n-n-not your fuh fuh fault.  N-ni-ni-n-n....  sweet of
y-y-y-ou to t-t-t-t-try."

Something happened then.  Her sweet face, that real smile, the way her
lovely hair framed her face, the subtle curve of her, something
propelled me.  Had I stopped to think I would never have kissed her, but
I did not stop.  I leaned forward and kissed her, gently, on her soft
cheek.  I heard her breath catch in her throat, but she did not pull away
for the first second.  When she did pull away, there was only surprise on
her face.

She blushed again, and looked down at her lap.

"I couldn't stop my self, Jenny."  I said, quietly.

"Wuh wuh why?" she said, and I could tell she was crying.  I only hoped
they were not tears of sadness.

"I th-th-th-think you know why."  Ah, my stutter again.  She looked up
at hearing it, her eyes glistening.  I still could not tell what her
tears meant.

"Maybe," she said.  "I g-g-guess so."

I took her hand, and she did not pull away.  When I stood, pulling her
gently, she followed.  We walked around the gym, to the horticulture
projects, around the fences and inside.  The fruit trees were blooming
and the smell reminded me of her perfume, which she was wearing again.
We finally reached the end of the rows, where a small bench was, and we
sat facing each other.

"Will you go out with me, Jenny?"  I still held her hand in mine, and
stroked the back of it with the fingers of my other hand.  She could not
tear her gaze away from our hands.

"I d-d-d-d-don't underst-st-stand this."  Her voice was choked.

"If you're not interested in me, just say so...."

She looked up at me and shook her head emphatically.  "It's n-n-n-ot
that."

"Then say you'll go out with me." I tried to keep my voice even and
calm, but I really wanted to kiss her again and the strain was
palpable.

She was quiet for about a thousand years.  But she finally nodded and
said "Ok."

We went to a movie - some Mel Brooks film - and I heard her laugh, which
was like music.  I was too tense to enjoy much of the film, but I
enjoyed her, just being there with her.  I knew I was in love.

After the film we got some food at a hamburger place and drove up to the
christmas tree farm to eat it.  The tree farm is one of my favorite
places, mostly because the other kids don't know about it and it is so
much like a forest.  Jenny liked it too, and sat staring at the trees
and each other as we ate our burgers and drank our malts.

Once we had eaten, and the wrappers were all tossed into the back seat,
the tension began to grow.  We had no more distractions.  It felt like a
moment of truth.  All during the meal I felt that something had changed in
her, or at least between us.  She was looking at me much more directly
than ever before, and most of her apprehension was nowhere to be seen.

"Jenny," I said, feeling my stutter returning.  "I'd like to k-k-kiss
you, but I d-d-d-don't want to if you don't w-w-w-want me to."

She looked down at her lap, her hands there folding and unfolding, a
smile on her face.  It took her while to speak, but she did, it was
wonderful.  "I w-w-ant to k-k-kiss you too."

I lifted her chin gently, and pressed my lips to hers.  The kiss was
long and sweet, and it was followed by another and another.  We turned
our heads slowly as we kissed, and when I broke away to kiss her cheeks
I heard her breath coming quick and shallow and felt the tears on her
face with my lips.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, whispering in her ear.

"H-h-h-happy," she said, hugging me tightly.

We kissed again, and this time I brushed my tongue against her lips.  At
first, she did not respond, but kept kissing me.  Then on the third try
she parted her lips and took my tongue in her mouth.  My tongue found
hers, and as they danced I heard her sigh and felt her breasts pressing
into my chest.

When finally we broke the kiss and I started to nibble the nape of her
neck, she began to sigh and moan.  I ventured, tentatively, to put my
hand on her breast, through the thin material of her blouse, and though
I felt her start a bit, she did not push the hand away.  I began to
squeeze and knead her breast gently, lovingly, feeling at first the lace
of her bra and then her rising nipple in my palm.

Her shoulder tensed at my touch, and her breath began coming in quick
little hitches.  She was afraid, but her nipple was standing firm, and
she was hugging me to her even more tightly.

My cock was raging, of course, hard as a post and straining against my
pants.  I brought my other hand up and began squeezing and rubbing both
of her beautiful tits, feeling both nipples hard and erect.  She was
rotating her shoulders ever so slightly, responding to my caress.  I was
not sure how far this was going to go, but I was in heaven.

"Scott," she sighed in my ear, "Oh, Scott, oh I just... oh, oh I've never
felt like this..."

I stopped and pulled away, both hands motionless on her breasts. I looked
her straight in the eye and smiled.

"W-w-what?" she said, her eyes puzzled.

"You didn't stutter."

"Huh?"

"You didn't stutter, just then, when you said you'd never felt like
this."

She looked down at my hands on her breasts, then smiled, then looked
back to me and covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed, a sweet,
high laugh.  "You m-m-m-mean all I n-n-n-needed wuh-wuh-was..."  We
both laughed.

"And to think I went through three years of speech therapy," I said, and
she howled, holding her stomach.  We laughed together for several
minutes, stopping and starting again whenever we'd look at each other.

My hands had drifted away from her, and as the laughter died away, I
drew her to me, kissing her deeply, and placing my hands back on her
tits.  I felt her hands come up to mine, and I thought she was going to
push them away, that she'd gone as far as she could in one night, and I
was prepared to say I understood, that we could go slow.  But instead I
felt her fingers unbuttoning her blouse, and my heart raced.

There is nothing quite so sexy as a woman voluntarily taking off her
clothes, without being asked.  She unbuttoned the blouse and drew it
down off her shoulders, letting it pile up around her waist.  Now I was
kneading her through her bra only, and as I looked down I realized just
how beautiful a body she had.  Her skin was so smooth and perfect, and
her tits crested deliciously in her bra, the lacy edges drawing the eye
to her cleavage.  The bra was front clasping, and I moved my fingers
to the snap.

"OK?" I asked, fingers gripping the plastic clasp.

"OK," she said.

It took three tries to get the clasp undone with one hand - I was too
nervous and too worried about her reaction.  But finally the lacy
material parted and her sweet breasts were bared to the night.  In the
moonlight the white flesh of her chest looked slightly blue, and her
pink nipples looked dark red.  My eyes crept up from staring at her
tits, up along her neck and shoulders, then finally to her face.  Her
expression was so fearful that at once I felt pretty guilty at having
let things get this far.  Here was a girl who had probably never even
held hands with a boy before, let alone kissed one.  And here she was,
stripped to the waist.

"Jenny," I began, "If this is too much..."

She smiled, very nervously but it was a genuine smile.  "No.  It's
Ok-k-k-kay."

With my eyes still raised to watch her expression, I leaned forward and
took a nipple gently into my mouth.  Her smile faded and she closed her
eyes as I began to suck and lick her areolae.  I felt her hand on the
back of my head, and she started holding my face to her tit as she bit
her lower lip and arched her back.  I had tapped something in her,
something that had been lying dormant for her whole life.

I brought my left hand up to massage the other nipple, then switched my
mouth to that side and brought my right hand up.  Back and forth, back
and forth, I suck and licked both her nipples until they were so erect
that virtually all the flesh of each areolae had been drawn up into the
erect little peaks that her nipples had become.

Slowly, experimentally, I began to draw my free hand up her leg, just to
her knee at first.  Again I was unsure how far I should take this girl,
on her very first night of love, but part of me was obsessed with her
body, which was proving to be impressive.  I wanted to see and touch her
pussy, even though I knew fucking was almost certainly out of the
question.  And more than that, I wanted to give her an orgasm.  I felt
sure it would be her first.

"Jenny," I said between sucks of her left nipple.  "Tell me...  if you
want me...  to stop." I looked up at her face, which was flushed and
showed such complete concentration on the sensations she was
experiencing that at first I wondered if she had heard me.  So I moved
my hand slightly farther up her leg, and let my fingers slide in
between her thighs.  Her eyes popped open and she bit her lip again.  I
pulled my face away and froze.

We sat like that for what felt like hours, but was certainly no more
than a minute.  Had I gone too far?  Would she feel I was taking
advantage of her?  Was I?  The expression on her face told me nothing
except that she was thinking intensely.

Suddenly, and without warning, she closed her eyes again and I felt her
legs parting.  Her butt slid forward as her thighs separated, and her
back slid down the car seat until her dress was hitched up to
mid-thigh.

I barely heard her say "gently" as her I felt the material of her
panties barely come to rest under my fingertips.

Gently.  Gently I began to stroke her pussy through her panties.  With
my other hand I slowly pulled her dress the rest of the way up, so I
could see what awaited me.  Her panties were of the simple white cotton
variety, cut like bikini bottoms, and they felt quite wet to my touch.
I put my free hand back on her breasts and continued to massage and
squeeze her chest as my fingers gently explored her pussy through her
panties.

After a while, her breath coming very fast now and my erection
threatening to burst my zipper, I brought both hands to the waistband
of her panties, grasped it, and began to lower them.  She brought her
hands up, one covering her eyes and one resting on her chest, as though
she was feeling her heartbeat, and I heard a little "ooooh" escape her
throat as she lifted her ass to help me remove her panties.  My eyes
locked onto her pussy as the covering slid away.  Her nether hair was
lovely, a perfect little triangle of black, downy curls.

I set her panties on the driver's seat, which I was leaving.  We had
pushed the seats back all the way when we had parked, which left me
plenty of room to kneel on the floor in front of her.  Her eyes were
still tightly closed, but her hands were on my shoulders now, touching me
lightly as though the mere contact gave her some kind of courage.  I
began to stroke her thighs and pussy hair lightly with my fingertips,
pressing gently now and then to get her legs to spread wider.  Finally I
could see her pink pussy lips, and the little bud of her clitoris
peaking out.  I planted a gentle kiss on her pussy hair, smelling her
musk and feeling the tiny drops of dew against my lips, then looked up
and saw a nervous but genuine smile spread across her lips.

The smile turned serious as I lowered my tongue into her pussy folds.
At first I let my tongue bathe the lips of her cunt, no penetration,
just running back and forth, up and down over the general area,
stroking her clit lightly now and then, almost by accident.  Her breath
was quickening again, so I pressed the advantage and began to search for
her little hole with the tip of my tongue.  Having found it with little
effort, I began little playful stabs into her, no more than the tip of
my tongue entering her pussy, followed by short, firm flicks on her
clit.

Soon she was making little sounds in her throat with each exhale, and I
knew she was close to coming.  I began to set up a very regular rhythm,
licking and sucking her clit and letting my tongue dart in and out of
her hole.  Soon I felt her ass tighten in my hands, and she lifted in
slightly in the air as her hips, legs, and thighs began to quiver.
Then she came in a long, hot flood, her pussy juices gushing into my
mouth, the taste of her like warm honey.

She said nothing, but made only these high whimpering noises, biting
her lip and breathing through her nose.  Suddenly her eyes popped open
and she looked down at me, our eyes meeting, as her final spasm ended.
A tear escaped her eye, followed by many others, and she gazed at me
with a look of total love.

She was tugging on my shoulders, wanting a hug, and I slid up to wrap
one arm around her and kiss her face and neck.  The other hand I left
stroking her pussy, bringing her down slowly from the peak of her
orgasm.  Now and then her breath hitched again, but soon she was calm
and I wrapped both arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"I love you," she said, after we had hugged together for some time.

"I love you too," I said, and I meant it.  By cock was still raging, but
I knew the feelings I had for her were more than lust - I wanted some
relief, but I did not want our hug to end.

She felt my hardness against her as we hugged, especially since her legs
were still spread and my groin was pressed against her bare pussy.  "I
w-w-w-ant to do something f-f-f-for you," she said into my ear.

"You do?"  I was amazed that she was ready to go farther.

"Yes.  That was s-s-so b-b-beautiful... and I w-want to g-g-give you
a-a-a..."

"An orgasm."

She blushed a little.  "Yes."

I moved back to the drivers seat, smiling at her, and sat back, drawing
my hard cock out of my pants.  My cock, erect, is only above average,
about 8 inches long and fairly thick, but to her eyes this was obviously
much bigger than she expected.  Her eyes opened wide as I pulled my
pants down to my knees and allowed my hard dick to stand proud in the
night air.  "This is for you," I said.

"W-w-w-hat do I d-d-do?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"You can do one or all of three things," I began, feeling like I was
giving some kind of lecture.  "You can jack me off with your hand, you
can suck be off with your mouth, or we can go all the way: you can take
me inside you."

Her eyes darted back to mine, a bit frightened.  "I d-d-d-on't know if
I'm r-r-r-ready to g-g-g-go all the w-w-w-ay yet..."

"That's OK with me." It was too.  I was shocked that I'd gotten this
far with such an inexperienced, shy girl.  I guessed I'd tapped some
kind of hidden passion in her.

"W-w-which is b-b-better for you?" she asked, obviously referring to her
hand or her mouth.

"How about first one, then the other?" I smiled, and she smiled
nervously back.  She slid a little closer and reached out with her hand
to grasp my dick.  As her fingers wrapped around the hard shaft I heard
her gasp.

"S-s-so warm and h-h-ard," she said.  Her hand closed into a gentle
fist, and I showed her how to jack slowly up and down the shaft.  The
feeling was wonderful as my skin slid up and down in her fist.  Soon a
drop of pre-cum fluid seeped out over her knuckle and she looked at me,
a question in her eyes.

"That's all right.  It just means I'm getting there."

"Sh-sh-should I take it in my mouth now?"

"Please," I said, chuckly warmly,  I guided her to kneel between my
legs as I took my pants off completely.  "Start by licking up and
down the underside, then take the head into your mouth.  Make sure to
cover your teeth with your lips, and concentrate your tongue on this
spot..."  I pressed her index finger on my glans.  "That's like your
little clit..."

She leaned forward and began to lick my cock with her hot tongue.  The
moonlight coming through the windshield illuminated her with a ghostly
light, so sexy as she ran her lips and tongue all over my dick.  After a
few strokes she took the head of my cock between her lips and began to
suck gently, her tongue dancing over my glans.

Her face was rapt, showing such keen concentration as she licked and
sucked my cock.  After each few sucking strokes she would slide my dick
out of her mouth and bathe the head and glans with long, wet licks.
Each time she did this her head would twist back and forth more and more
violently and she would lick and suck faster.  She was obviously getting
caught up in the passion of the blowjob, which made the whole thing so
much better for me.  Her long hair had covered my thighs and scrotum,
and as her head bobbed up and down I could feel her locks tickling my
balls.  The sensation, combined with her sucking mouth and warm licking
tongue drove me to the brink.

I could feel the come rising from the base of my shaft and I warmed her:
"I'm going to come... swallow it if you can..."

Her next stroke was the deepest, taking me 3/4 of the way down, or even
a bit more, and I exploded into her warm mouth.  The first two spurts
shot straight down her throat, till she gaged slightly and withdrew
almost all the way, leaving just the head in her mouth.  Spurt after
spurt of hot sperm landed on her tongue and filled her mouth after that.
She swallowed three times before I was done.

She sucked my deflating cock clean, which made it take quite a bit
longer to deflate, then slid up and I had and hugged me tightly.  "Thank
you," I whispered in her ear.

"It w-w-w-was OK?" she asked, whispering back.

"Oh yes, it was fantastic," I said, hugging her tightly and feeling her
breasts pressed against my chest.

She was silent for a while, and our breathing patterns synchronized,
the way they will she you lie next to someone.  After a while the
hypnotic feeling of our bodies moving together almost lulled me to sleep
when she said:

"C-c-can you d-d-do it again?"

"You mean, can I get hard again?"

"Yes."

I answered her by placing her hand on my rising cock - the mere question
had caused old' johnson to perk up.  She fell to her knees again, my cock
growing in her two-handed grip, and began to lick the tip as the shaft
expanded to its full size.

She licked and sucked again for a while, then pulled away, her face
flushed and little beads of sweat on her bangs, and looked me in the
eye.  "W-w-will in h-h-urt if we try to.... to p-p-put it in me?"

I certainly was not going to lie to her.  "Yes, at first.  A girl's first
time always hurts a bit.  But if we are careful and we go slow... we
can... you know..."

"F-f-f-fuck?"  She smiled, and I smiled back.

I think I gained another inch hearing her say that word. "Yes.  We can
fuck."

"I w-w-want to fuck w-w-with you.  Or at l-l-least t-t-try to."

My cock fairly inhaled at that, expanding in her tight grip so much that
she giggled and sucked it again.

I unbuttoned my shirt and motioned her to slide up and straddle me.  As
she did, my cock ended up pointing toward my belly, the entire
underside coming in contact with her warm, wet pussy lips.  She leaned
against me, her breasts crushed against my chest and her mouth kissing
my neck as I gripped her hips and began rubbing her pussy up and down
against the underside of my cock.  Immediately I felt my shaft slide
between her lips, so that on each stroke my glans were rubbing her
clit.  She began to sigh and moan as her clit swelled and the strokes
became harder.  I felt her knees pressing in against my hips as she
neared orgasm, and soon her pussy was moving without my help.

"Ah... ah... ah... oh Scott it's... oh I love... ah... oh... uh...."
she moaned breathlessly.  Then all at once I felt her tense, and the
warm flood of her come drenching my cock.  Her sliding action increased
until I felt the head of my cock slip into her pussy hole.

She froze, my dickhead just inside her warm cunt.

"God.  God, your IN me, aren't you?"  Her voice was full of wonder and
lust.

"Yes, just the head.  I'm inside you.  How does it feel?"

"Oh, it feels so..."  Then she slid down a fraction, slipping a half an
inch or so down the shaft.  "Uh..." she grunted low in her throat.
"It's tight, but you feel so good."

"I hate to bring this up now," I said, smiling, "but your stutter is
gone again."

She smiled broadly at this, and I smiled back, gripped her hips, and
slid her down another full inch.  She bit her lip, but kept on smiling.
I could feel the head of my cock pressing again her hymen now.  It was
like a thread or a string stretched across her opening.

She drew herself up, then down, then up and down, sliding that first
inch in and out of her, her eyes closed and her mouth in that half
smile.  After a dozen strokes I felt that the hymen was gone!  It had
broken, and she seemed not to feel a thing.

I gripped her hips again and began to slide her down a bit further on
each stroke.  The feeling of her pussy walls wrapped around my cock was
unbelievable.  I had fucked two girls before her, but her pussy was by
far the tightest, smoothest, warmest thing my cock had ever been in.
Now that her hymen was broken she did not seem to feel much pain.

I took a nipple in my mouth and began sucking as I pressed my cock
deeper and deeper into her pussy on each stroke.  Her face was back to
that same lustful concentration, and soon I was balls-deep in her.
She bent down to kiss me and I massaged both her tits with my hands as
she came again, her tongue deep in my mouth and a high whimper in her
throat.

I felt my come rising again, this time slowly but with great power.  "I
can't... uh... come inside you... uh... Jenny... no... protection...."

Quickly she withdrew my cock from her pussy, slid her body down mine and
took me back in her mouth, where I came like a garden hose.  My sperm
poured into her, leaking out the corners of her mouth and dripping on my
legs.  She eagerly licked it from them, then came back up to straddle
me and hug me.

"Y-y-yours forever," she whispered into my ear, her spread pussy rubbing
against my cock and her nipples pressed into mine.  I really HAD tapped
some secret wellspring of lust and love in this shy girl.

"Forever," I agreed.

Since that time Jenny and I have been together.  I am sure marriage is
in our future, and her stutter is really coming along now.  Especially
since we found such a perfect therapy.  We still like to do it at the
christmas tree farm, but we have also gotten rather adventurous, fucking
during school in various secret locations.

But that, as they say, is another story...