At least that's what it felt like to Bert. The moist, liquid feeling as his glans touched her outer labia almost brought him off. He resisted and found the effort worthwhile. He watched his red, swollen length slowly swallowed by that golden-covered pussy as Robin gradually lowered her body over his. Soon the blonde hairs of her furry little triangle inter-mixed with his black pubic hair in an erotic, living, pulsing kinectic sculpture.
Things really got pulsing when Robin used her cuntal muscles to squeeze down on Bert's entrapped, quivering cock. He felt hot jabs of fire and ice leap into his loins as she clamped down on his manly length like the jaws of a velvet-lined vice. When she began fucking him, Bert couldn't keep from twitching and wiggling his hips under her! In his position, he had to be content to let her fuck herself on his impaling spike of flesh and just enjoy the feeling of the sensuous fur under him and the warm body of the wanton woman against his groin.
And fuck herself she did. Slowly at first, then faster and faster as her passions mounted. Soon clutching her own tits and squeezing the nipples while royally screwing herself on Bert's jutting cock. Robin came.
The woman's climax caused her encasing cunt to convulse and grab wildly at Bert's rod in a giant's powerful grip. The flames that had simmered now exploded and raced through his body, along every nerve, overloading the pleasure centers of his brain. He was vaguely aware of spewing forth his come into Robin's hungering cunt, but it was secondary to the universe of sensation that had been revealed to him. Bert tried to explore every corner of the new, erotically filled galaxy of exploding stars and burning lust, but all too soon it died to a smoldering ember.
Back in the real world, feeling limp from the nervous and physical release, he saw Robin continue wildly, wantonly fucking herself on his still rigid dick. She got off once more then slowed and stopped, exhausted. She finally rose and allowed Bert's limp penis to wetly slide from her sex slash. His once mighty pole was covered with cunt juice and his own seed. The now flaccid organ smeared the golden hairs of Robin's delectible enticing pussy with the liquid sex of their fucking.
She didn't seem to care or notice.
"How was it, Bert? Your first time."
He did nothing but look at her nakedness. Bert was no longer a virgin. In a flash, it occurred to him that he couldn't have gotten himself laid with such expertise by Carole or any of the other girls he knew. Robin had too many years of practice behind her to even be considered in the same league as the kids he went to school with.
He just nodded, wondering how he could get some more of that beckoning, fabulous manhole of Robin's. Bert looked down between his legs at his sleeping snake, then wondered if it was dead forever.
His face must have conveyed some of the message racing in his mind because Robin laughed, then said, "Don't worry. It isn't broken. It'll be as good as new in a little while. But you better go now. Carole might come back and I doubt if she'd understand."
For the first time, what he had done impacted like a sledgehammer blow on Bert's consciousness. "Your husband!" he explained in a choaked voice.
Robin donned her green dressing gown and merely said, "He's out of town a lot. He won't be back from this sales trip for a couple of weeks, but I don't wnat Carole to know. You'd better leave, Bert. Now."
Bert quickly dressed and left. Looking over his shoulder as he went out the door, he saw Robin sitting on the sofa, a cigarette dangling from her long fingers and the slightest touch of a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth.
"Goodbye, Bert."
He qucikly closed the door behind him. Outside, he almost yelled for all to hear, "I'm the biggest stud around!" Instead, he was content to just go off, whistling tunelessly, secure in his knowledge that he was now a man.
Chapter Two
Bert should have been a broken field runner. He adeptly wiggled his way through the crowded cafeteria with his food laden tray and never spilled a drop of his milk or a blob of the gooey chocolate pudding. He found an empty chair next to his friend, Cruncher Hiatt, and sat down.
"Hi Crunch. How's it going?"
"Not so bad, man. In fact, real good. Me and Laura went out after the game Saturday night, you know? That chick is really hot in bed, let me tell you." Cruncher smirked and continued eating.
Bert sighed. He wished he could be as suave as Cruncher. But then he didn't yet have the experience with girls that his friend did. And, Bert had to admit, there was a certain power aura around a guy who could break through a defensive line and toss the quarterback around like a sack of brass doorknobs. That game Saturday had been a big one for Cruncher. Several college recruiters had been watching, and he had really shined. He had thrown the Slaten High quarterback for a total loss of almost sixty yards.
And Bert imagined that Laura had been impressed enough to let Cruncher score with her, too.
"Yeah, some game Crunch. And Laura is a hell of a sexy broad, too. Say you know all about things. What's the best approach to use on Carole?"
Cruncher looked like he was deep in thought as his brow furrowed. He finally said, "Carole? The blonde cheerleader? Man, Bert, I'd say you could do better than waste your time there. She's a real bitch. Complete iceberg. Maybe even frigid. Bet she's got ice cubes stuuffed up her cunt. Take my advice and lay off her. You'd just be missing out some- place else."
Bert continued eating his lunch in silence. He was worried. Cruncher knew what he was talking about when it came to two subjects, football and women. If the great make-out artist said to forget Carole, maybe he should. Bert knew that if a football hero, a potential All-American offensive lineman and a really cool guy like Hiatt couldn't give any advice on how to make it with a chick, it might be impossible.
"You really think it's no good, Crunch?" Bert hoped there might be some small ray of encouragement shining through the clouds of dispair.
"No hope at all, Bert. Believe me, lay off her. Got to get to class. See you later." The big tackle stood and weaved through the crowd, his crimson and white letter jacket finally disappearing through the cafeteria doorway.
Bert lost his appetite, but he continued to eat anyway. Even if he didn't feel like it, he should have some food in his stomach. He had to work late tonight finishing the photo layouts for the paper. It was going to be a special edition, and he had some unique ideas to better illustrate the school's sports program.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of inconsequential events, and Bert was glad when the final class of the day ended. He hurried to the journalism room and saw Mr. Woodward just leaving.
The journalism teacher looked up from stuffing his brief- case with a stack of papers to be graded and greeted his student. "Hello, Bert. Are you going to work tonight on that special layout for the sports edition tomorrow?"
When Bert told him that he was, the teacher continued, "Good. But remember that the entire thing has to be at the printer's shop before midnight so he can burn the plates and get it run. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay, Mr. Woodward. Have a nice evening."
"I will, Bert, I will. Jim Elliot and I are going over to Jeff Morehead's house for a little poker game. But don't spread it around. We school types have to keep that goodie-goodie facade at all costs. We're not supposed to smoke or drink or gamble or fuck. Or be human, if the school board had their way. 'Night!" With that, the man was off.
Bert sighed and went in the darkroom glued onto the back of the classroom. He began setting up his developing pans and mixing the Dektol and a fresh batch of stop bath. Bert critically surveyed the fixer solution and decided that he could filter out some of the silver sediment at the bottom and use the fluid again, for one more batch of prints, at least. The youthful photographer checked out his enlarger and made sure he had the negatives he needed. Most were of the football team, a few were of the cheerleaders. Bert longingly eyed a particularly good shot of Carole leaping into the air, legs spread wide and her head thrown back in a wild cheer. Bert sat on the large counter for several minutes looking at the negative and thinking what it would be like to get into Carole's pants.