I didn't mind. I let him buck a little while I unzipped his fly. And when my hand had burrowed inside and clamped onto that naked, smooth cylinder and his wiry pubic hair was pricking my hand, he was welcome to flop around all he wanted to. He was clear gone, though. All of a sudden he wanted to do whatever I wanted him to. He let me undress him. He lay there with his eyes big and round and his mouth forming an "O" and let me take his pants and shorts off and held his arms right for me to get his T-shirt off. And he lay there as if he were paralyzed, looking sort of scared… scared of what was happening, but more scared to move.
"I'm not going to hurt you, honey," I told him, real soft. "Don't you see? I just want you to learn."
"Yeah." He gulped.
I let my dress settle wider on my shoulders, then shrugged so it slipped away from them. I stood perfectly still while the material sagged and wrinkled and slid down me a little at a time. It hung around my hips, twisted and draped, and I tugged at the bra cups Mark had shoved up. My boobs filled them again and I worked one shoulder strap real slowly off my shoulder, then the other, and pulled my arms out of them. Mark's eyes bugged as he stared at me. "Sis…?" His voice sounded strangled. "Sis! You're…!"
When he stopped and didn't say what he'd started to, I pushed my bra down to my waist. Just like that, I pushed it down so my tits spilled into the open. Mark licked his lips with the tip of his tongue and I turned the bra around at my waist so the catch was in front where I could unfasten it easy. And I pulled the empty thing away from me and let it dangle from my hand, slack and flat without its stuffing of flesh. I tossed it away, suddenly not feeling nonchalant or superior, but just as scared and unbelieving as the scared, naked kid who lay there staring up at me.
"Oh, Jeez, sis!" he whispered, kind of hoarse-sounding. "Oh, Jeez!"
As if his awe were a spur, I stiffened and fumbled at another button on my dress. Loosened, it gave the flimsy garment just enough freedom to start sliding again. A fraction of an inch at a time, the swell of my hips came in view – and the broad, sweet curve of my lower belly. My panties hugged me intimately, too thin and clinging to soften the crease at the top of my pubic hair or to hide the dark-shadowed hump where the hair mat thrust forward on my love mound. In the rays of the rising moon – they reached in through the windows and bathed me with their dusky radiance just like in some mythical rite – wisps of black hair twisted around the edges of the panties and were silhouetted against the smooth whiteness of my flesh.
The dress passed the fullness of my bottom and slid off my thighs with a rush, exposing their rounded taper and the taut rigidity of my knees. I stepped out of the crumpled garment and began to work my panties down.
Again, Mark made a strangled noise. His breath hissed unsteadily and he whispered. "Oh, Jeez! Oh, Jeez, sis! I never seen…!"
"I know, sweetie." Real soft and tender, like a mother soothing her child. "I know you never. Don't you see, honey? It's time!" And I kept showing him more and more of that secret flesh he hadn't seen. My pubic hair bulged out when the panties freed it, springing full and curly, and my hands shook when I touched part of the crotch of the flimsy garment and found out how wet it really was.
After my whole pussy was uncovered and the panties were halfway down my thighs, there wasn't any way to keep the suspense up. I bent and quickly stripped the messy things from my legs and kicked them and the dress away. And then I stood over him, letting him get his fill of a figure as good as any in Emporia – and better than most – while I studied that peter of his and contemplated how much a man he'd become.
His pubic hair was still a little thin. It clustered into strands that curled in tight ringlets, clinging to the base of the white-shafted, veined, swollen-headed cock. His balls lay half-overlapped in the hollow between his thighs. Their bag was drawn-up and taut, goose-pimpled under the sparse hair that grew on it, and the nuggets inside reminded me of prune-plumbs. His pecker looked like it was going to burst! It lay stiffly on his belly, its tip almost hanging over his belly-button, the head bulging inside its stretched foreskin, which gaped at the end as if gasping for breath.
It exercised a hypnotic charm on me, that innocent, straining young organ. I sank slowly to my knees beside the lounge and laid a hand on his thigh, my fingertips reverently caressing the silken texture of his scrotum while I lowered my face closer and closer to that lovely, pulsing, thick-veined rod of meat above it. With my lips parted expectantly, I touched the softer underside of his dick with a tender kiss. I nibbled at it for a moment while Mark jerked in a deep breath and tensed his thighs. His knees rose and separated when I continued nibbling along the turgid stalk toward its crown, and he groaned.
"Oh, sis! Jeez, sis…! Unnnhhh…! Nnnggg!"
I fingered the sweet stem, the pads of my fingertips stroking along its sides while my teeth squeaked on the twitching foreskin. He acted as if he were afraid I meant to bite the raging pecker off. Every little nip brought a sharp flinch, his belly jerking and his cock leaping under my lips. His fists pressed tightly to his hips, clenching and unclenching. But he couldn't fight the eagerness I was arousing in him; his knees spread and his heels dug at the cushion while his hips started grinding.
"Uuuhhh… nnnNNnnn…! Oooh, sis, let me play with you, too!"
"Mmm…? Mmm! Okay!"
I sighed. It was so comfortable and so beautiful this way, kneeling – sitting on my heels with my boobs resting on the edge of the lounge and just touching his hot, young body while I loved his throbbing dick. I'd have to stand, bending at the waist, if he wanted to dabble at my pussy. But I couldn't refuse his young male need. I pushed myself up and bent over him, smiling to myself at the way my boobies coned as they hung beneath me.
He caught at me, pulling me around toward him, and when my leg bumped the side of the lounge and stopped me, he seized that ankle and lifted my foot, swinging my leg across his chest. I gasped at the way my pussy had so suddenly been pulled open to his view. I struggled for a moment, but his hands held me securely and he continued to maneuver me until I knelt astride his chest, his upper arms resting on my calves and pinning my legs. And I stared right into the tip of his cock, shivering at the weird notion the hooded bulb was leering back at me.
I hitched myself over him, my tits brushing his hard, flat belly, and took the young cock in both hands. Lying on him, feeling the thickness of that boyish rib cage wedging my thighs apart and his clumsy, trembling fingers fumbling at my pussy-lips, I lost the artistic detachment I'd felt and became suddenly the voracious, cock-starved female. I extended my tongue and lapped at him. I scoured the skin of his scrotum, feeling his balls slide against each other under my tongue's pressure. I straightened the crusted hairs and stripped them of their musky coating on the surface of my tongue, letting them spring back squeaky clean. And I laved the dear, quivering trunk of his cock, its flavor strong at first with the remnants of sweat and seminal secretions, then clean and fresh and scented only with its own subtle man-smell.
I paced myself. I fought off the ever-growing impulse to gobble at the waiting, bulging head of that glorious prick. My tongue lingered over the last of its homage, caressing and teasing his drum-taut foreskin and twirling with tantalizing persistence around the very rim of that darkly gaping opening that would lead to his cockhead.
Mark was groaning continuously and twisting ferociously. His fingers dragged through the furry pelt that clothed each of my pussy-lips and probed tentatively at the hairless crevice between them. But I knew he was overwhelmingly distracted by the strange, delightful sensations in his dick. And at last my impatience broke its bounds. My hands closed in hard rings over the broadest girth of his hooded cockhead and started working his foreskin back. Terror threaded its way into my thought; maybe he'd never peeled that sheath to expose the tender meat inside! Maybe it wasn't going to be elastic enough to release that one blood-packed knob I wanted so badly to taste – to fondle – to gulp into my throat!