She stands in front of the mirror and ties the collar of the white, satin blouse, white for unsoiled virginity, the wide satin ties hang to her breasts. She slides her hand down the front of the knee-length skirt. She is delectable, unspoiled, a fruit ripe for picking, her juices maturing and longing to be tasted. She closes her eyes, smelling his cologne and recalling his exotic accent. He slides his fingers under the half collar and kisses her lips. She feigns resistance, pushing his hand down as he kisses her gently at first and then harder; she begins to awaken.
Her throat.
Deliciously moist lips descend to her throat; his flickering tongue savors her with soft kisses. His dancing fingertips slide through the pleats and placket of her blouse, causing her to whimper softly; she slides her hands through his hair, willing him onwards but not appearing too brash.
Satin caresses.
His fingers dance up and down the blouse sending shivers through her. Still feigning chastity, she keeps him from her breasts, but resistance dissolves with her quickening pulse. She guides him to her breasts, holding him hard against her plumpness. She whimpers while he nuzzles her throat, massages her breasts, and pinches her hardening nipples; her breathing becomes shallower.
The unveiling.
He slowly unties the attached tie, unbuttons her collar and lets his finger fall to the next button. The material jerks outward and she winces, thinking he will pop the button loose; but he moves downward methodically, seesawing across the widening V, slipping her buttons free one by one. Katie’s eyes follow his progress in mute fascination; he reaches her waistband; the butterflies rise in startled flight as she realizes she has passed the point of no return. Shimmering satin is flicked expertly over her shoulders, he squeezes her breasts and bites his way from her shoulders to her belly. He pulls the blouse from her skirt and fumbles with the cuffs; she pushes forward, slides her hands up his back, and strokes him. A few moments later she pulls his sweatshirt over his head and kisses his tanned skin, taking pleasure in his moans. She feels herself being pushed down onto the couch as the last of her resolve disappears. She moans passionately as they kiss and fondle each other. His hand is moving up her cotton skirt, undoing the buttons and parting the skirt while he kisses and bites his way up her legs. She feels moisture between her legs as he moves closer and closer to her pussy. Eventually the skirt is lying open and with a triumphant smile he pulls it from under her and tosses it aside. Panting heavily, Katie stares up at him, he is waiting and with a surge of panic, she realizes he is waiting for her; she blushes when she removes her bra and panties.
He stares at her naked body and licks his lips.
Tasting her fruit.
She moans and cries for him when he rubs her moist, lips, arches her back and pants for his soft mouth and delicately dancing fingertips. She lets him taste her hardened, juicy nipples, pushing them into his face. He kisses his way down her body, lingering over her navel and moves closer to her pussy. But every times she thinks he is going to savor her, he passes by and begins the process all over again, until she finally grabs his face and buries it between her legs. His circling tongue on her clitoris sends her into gyrating, animal moans. She whimpers when he probes her unexplored passage; it feels alien but his touch is gentle. She cries for more as he pushes in and out, stretching her while he sucks her clitoris. She gasps, her cries become sharper, obscenities fill the air as he drives her higher and higher. She digs her fingernails ferociously into his legs, her buttocks rising and falling, forcing him deeper until finally she is ready to take all of him. Panting heavily, she watches as he drops his jeans, and lifting his shorts over his erect penis, lets them fall to the floor; the swollen, purple head is wet and she wonders in a moment of panic how all that will fit inside her tight passage.
A succulent feast.
He works her passage slowly, opening her wider and wider until with a groan he pierces her, crucifying her virginity on his cock; she screams and arches her back. Sweating and shaking, she experiences mild panic, but he is careful not to stretch her too far too soon. She forces him deeper despite the pain, his balls slap against her rhythmically. Tears fill her eyes as he drives deeper and harder with stabbing thrusts, her fingernails dig into his cheeks. Her panting and writhing makes him wilder and her gasps become short and sharp. She wraps her legs around him and takes his full length despite the pain. She feels something explode, hot fluid floods through her and she cries his name over and over while he empties himself into her. Exhausted, he collapses. She kisses his shoulders and weeps while the storm rages. He looks into her eyes and then grinning, kneels and raising her buttocks off the couch, forces her hands to her lips and begins driving in and out, rubbing his head against her G spot while she massages her lips. Katie writhes and shakes as he brings her higher, and then she explodes with frenzied cries as something breaks free. She feels a warm feeling in her belly spreading to her legs, her mind goes blank, and she drifts onto a vast empty plain. She clutches the couch to stop herself falling into oblivion, until he brings her down to earth and kisses her gently; her face is wet with salty tears.
Katie blinked.
The fantasy faded as she fastened her watch.
“Damn, I’m late,” she muttered, and picking up her bible and handbag, strode to the door but the phone rang just as she reached it and she sighed. Why couldn’t she just let the phone ring out? Why did she have to pick it up?
Her hand hovered over the phone, fighting the urge to walk out the door and let it go through to the answering machine, a moment later she picked it up and stared blankly at the poster on the wall.
Let Go And Let God.
“Katie McCluskey, who’s this?”
“G’day, it’s Brad,” the voice sounded familiar.
“Brad?”
“Yeah, that mad Aussie from summer camp?”
She winced.
“Oh my God, Brad!”
“Remember me now?”
Did she remember?
She smiled.
He had been the Australian lifeguard on a bible camp, his atheism balanced by his easygoing attitudes and a willingness to listen that had assuaged the initial fears of the camp counselors. Nevertheless, whenever they were far from prying eyes and listening ears, Katie had discovered an unexplored world untouched by piety and dogma, forbidden fruit their favourite subject, her questions endless. Brad, the ever patient scholar, instructed her without touching, while the camp leaders kept their spies in the vicinity, just in case she got the urge to taste his forbidden fruit.
How could she forget?
“I will find you one day and teach you more,” he murmured as they embraced on his last day in camp.
“Oh my God,’ she gushed, “how are you?”
“Fine,” he replied.
“You sound so close, must be a good line.”
“It should be, I’m in town for a few days and thought I’d look you up,” he chuckled.
“Here?”
“Yeah, say, are you still going to church today?”
“Church,” she looked down at the bible and smiled, “I, umm, I was thinking of giving it a miss today; it’s such a nice day, too nice to be sitting in church,” she put the bible down.
“Tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up, we can do lunch.”
“Great,” he replied, “I’ve been trying to contact you for the last year but lost your number, did you know there are four people with the name McCluskey in your town?”
“Really?”
She grinned shyly.
Five minutes later she stood in front of the mirror again, tucked her blouse further down the front of her skirt, fluffed out her hair and grinned.
She was awake.
Written by Alastair Rosie
Published
