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I of course ran my hands over her tits again. I teased the nipples with my palms and squeezed her globes with glee. But I also rubbed her arms, massaging her biceps reflexively which made Miss McNeil moan more into my mouth. I ran my hands down her belly and legs, and then eventually, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties.

Still with her eyes closed, Miss McNeil moaned again and then I felt the tension in her legs as she began to lift her hips up. I reacted instinctively, kissing my way down her chin and to her chest as I relocated both of my hands to grab hold of my beautiful neighbor’s panties. And then while she planted her feet and arched her butt off the floor, I slid the cotton down her legs and then picked my head up to pull them off the rest of the way, leaving this goddess fully nude before me.

She had a dark tuft of hair above her pussy. It wasn’t neatly trimmed down, but it wasn’t unruly either. I could see the obvious wetness in her crotch reflecting the bathroom lights; and further below, the puffy pink of her vagina was just barely peeking out from her closed labia.

I had an academic understanding of what I was looking at, both from health class and photos and the one special girl who’d let me see hers before. But the sight of the first pussy I might actually get INTO wasn’t as shocking or monumental as when I’d first seen Miss McNeil’s breasts. Somehow, while I knew I wanted to see her pussy, I’d never thought a woman’s crotch was as attractive as a nice pair of tits.

And so I didn’t hesitate very long before tugging off my T-shirt and then kicking my shorts and socks off. Now as fully naked as she was, I moved my warm body so that I was directly atop Miss McNeil, my naked chest resting lightly on top of her breasts while I supported most of my weight on my elbows. My erection was sandwiched between our two bellies, and I felt the tickle against my thighs as our pubic hairs mingled together. And as I began to kiss her again, Miss McNeil hummed happily against my mouth and I felt her legs parting to let my lower half slide between them.

Ever so delicately, I felt the shaft of my banana-bent cock slide into the groove of her pussy lips. I pulled back just a bit further, and with a gentle nudge, my cockhead lowered down and moved into position. This was it. On the cold bathroom tile floor in Miss McNeil’s house, I was going to lose my virginity.

“Oh, Colin…” Miss McNeil moaned with infinite joy, and at the sound of her dead husband’s name, she suddenly went rigid.

I went rigid, too. Just like ‘desire-to-fuck-hot-girl’ was genetically imprinted on all male humans, ‘annoyance-at-hearing-hot-girl-moan-someone-else’s-name’ was similarly hardwired into my brain.

Miss McNeil’s eyes flew open and then she took one look at me before her face went ashen and she started crying. In a heartbeat, she went from my sensually alluring goddess right back into Miss McNeil, sad widow neighbor who didn’t have a man around to fix up the little things in her house.

I lost my erection almost immediately. Crying girls just don’t do it for me.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry, Miss McNeil,” I soothed while scooting off her. It was instinctive. I would push a girl just a little too far and then apologize while backpedaling. I would kiss her and then apologize for it when she complained she wasn’t ready. I would grab a boob and then apologize for it when she slapped my hand. Now I was apologizing for taking Miss McNeil’s panties off and then getting ready to mount her.

Miss McNeil’s hands went up to cover her nakedness and I quickly grabbed the ends of the robe she was lying on, pulling it up to loosely cover her and then tying the belt myself. Then, while she rolled away from me and curled into a fetal position, I hunted around and sat up to start hunching myself into my shorts. Then I went searching for my shirt, then my socks, and shoes.

By the time I was fully dressed, Miss McNeil had composed herself and she wasn’t crying anymore. She was sitting up and leaning against the wall, although she still wasn’t looking at me.

“Miss McNeil?” I ventured in a careful voice. I’d thought about just bolting, but it didn’t seem right.

She took a deep breath and then exhaled for a good five seconds. And when she took the next deep breath, she turned to look at me through wet eyes. “I’m sorry, Ben. I never should have let things get so far.”

“No, no. It’s my fault. I’m just a walking hormone.” It was an excuse I’d repeated many a time with nearly all of my teen dates. If I didn’t show remorse, they’d never go out with me again.

“You can’t help it. I’m the adult here. I could go to jail for what I did.”

“You said that before. But I promise you, I’d never tell ANYONE.”

“Just because you don’t tell doesn’t mean we can’t get caught.” She closed her eyes and sighed again. “We can’t do this ever again, Ben.”

I sighed and looked down. I’d known it couldn’t last forever. I’d hoped it would last beyond just two times, but that was that.

I didn’t say anything, and neither did she for a long while. I just went over her blowjob in my head, and pictured her fingering herself to orgasm while I sucked on her tits. And with those happy thoughts in my mind, I began to smile wistfully.

Miss McNeil seemed to realize that I wasn’t about to start yelling or complaining about the situation. After sighing with relief, she managed a hopeful expression on her pretty face.

“Well,” I began as I looked around and then saw the broken towel bar, still with only one bracket holding it up. “Can I still fix your towel bar?”

Miss McNeil started laughing. “Sure, Ben. But I’m…” she pointed back towards her bedroom. “I’m going to go change into something a little… uh… less naked.”

MAY 2000, SOPHOMORE YEAR

When I breathed, I could still smell the sweet, musky odor of her sweat. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the beatific expression on her face. And when I quieted my mind, I could hear the soft moan of her orgasm.

I yearned to experience all those sensations again. But it was not to be. For two weeks, I hadn’t seen Miss McNeil. For two weeks, I tried unsuccessfully to put our two sexual interludes out of my mind.

“Ben, you got a minute?”

I closed my locker and turned to see Megan Kwan waiting for me, her hand idly tapping the telescoping handle on the roller-schoolbag she used instead of a backpack. School had just ended, and there was nothing left for me but to drive home. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Can we talk…?” Megan glanced around, noticing the hustle and bustle of the crowd. “Uh, somewhere a little more private?”

I shrugged, “Sure.”

Megan simply turned and started walking away. I followed her, and with my mind in its current sexually-heightened state, I found myself staring at Megan’s ass. As she pulled her roller-bag along, her hips were automatically swaying and twisting to maintain balance while dragging the pack with one hand. Beneath the ordinary T-shirt, she was wearing these tight jeans that hugged her body, and my mouth began to water as I imagined how her creamy globes would look without the heavy denim in the way.

It wasn’t the first time I’d checked Megan out. I’d surreptitiously checked out pretty much every girl in school, even the ugly ones. And I’d more openly gaped at the gorgeous girls, who were used to the attention. But this time I felt myself lingering a bit longer than usual. Megan was still clearly a girl, in comparison to Miss McNeil who was all woman, but she was a growing girl. The extra couple of inches she’d grown had all been in her legs, and since she was rather skinny, her legs looked pretty long despite her 5’4” height. Her hips were starting to swell to the sides and for some reason, I found the gentle curve from her hips to her tiny waist to be a turn-on.

I couldn’t see her tits from behind, but memory reminded me that she’d been almost completely flat-chested when we dated back in November. But in the past few months, Megan had developed some healthy bumps that required the use of a bra. And as she grew, her round China doll face had begun to elongate into the pretty face of a young woman.