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Subject: {ASSM} Tales of the Lorelei 08/10 {virgosun} (msolo mf 1st cons rom voy pett oral)
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<1st attachment, "08lorelei.txt" begin>
Lorelei part 8
Nobody likes waiting, especially on a vague half-notion
about a very serious prospect, perhaps even life-
changing. Renton had hurried home after leaving the
fuelstop, and...waited. Waited. He had the house to
himself. Had a bunch of videos he had borrowed. He
should have had a cluster of mates over for the weekend,
with beer and playstation games, and a heap of saucy
.mpegs downloaded from Kieran's computer. But he didn't
dare have the house trashed, and when there was a
slender chance Lyn might call, having mates over was not
an option.
When the phone rang he died a minor death; but it was
only Mitch finding out precisely if a boys' weekend was
on. No, he told him, his mum came back early - so that
Mitch wouldn't come and crash the place anyway. Sean
rang to see if he wanted to do a network game Sunday.
That one he agreed to, for if his special visitor hadn't
arrived by then, she wasn't going to arrive. Later, he
phoned Kieran, feeling grumpy and needing to talk to
someone, but reached the answering machine and the
mobile was switched off. A light tapping at the door
yielded only a pair of beatifically-smiling evangelists.
Lyn could have called a cab, caught a bus, cadged a lift
or even ridden a bike. But she walked, from the mall,
taking with her a little gift-box of chocolates that
melted in the summer heat. And she sat on the pavement
outside his place for a long time simply working up the
courage to go in, sure at last that this was doomed to
failure as "in the mood" seemed as far away as the Moon.
He had started up a computer-game that was a good
timewaster, and put headphones on, so he only barely
heard her knock. She was on the point of turning to walk
home again when he hurried out and found her.
"You _walked_, Lyn! Ohh, man!" He didn't try to kiss
her, just put the chocolates straight in the freezer,
and poured her a large tumbler of springwater. He threw
one of the videos in the player, and they sat in the
lounge and talked about nothing much in cool comfort,
sometimes looking at the video but not paying it a lot
of heed. Her smile returned, and he was simply glad of
her company. Now that she was here, it didn't matter
whether they actually _did_ anything or not.
Dusk settled comfortably over the bay. Renton's house
was on the southern, older side of town, where the
streets were steep and narrow. You could have seen
Lorelei Point from his place if it hadn't been for the
towers of resort apartments that overshadowed the little
weatherboard cottage. They could have wandered the
cliff-walks with the sunburnt touries, or walked his
setter down to the beach. Instead, he ordered in a small
pizza and tangy, icy gelati, and they dined in the
privacy of the back yard beneath a trellis heavy with
passionfruit vines. The sun set magnificently behind the
ranges Kieran and I had ridden through a few hours
earlier, lighting broken altocumulus cloud with spectral
rose, lilac and gold. It was when Lyn stood and walked
forward from the patio to watch that Renton followed
her, and gently circled her with his arms. It was enough
for her to lean against him with her arms around his
waist, and to be held as the sun set over her old way of
life.
For now, through the thin shirt, she could feel the taut
slimness of his waist, and it felt nice. Which led to
her thinking about his nipples again. She hadn't stopped
wanting him all week.
They stacked away the dinner things. They could catch a
cab and go see a movie, or go down to the Malt Shoppe,
or slump in the lounge and watch another crappy sci-fi
flick and eat frozen chocolate. Renton's mother rang,
and he grinned wryly as he returned to the lounge after
hanging up. Just checking, of course, listening for loud
music or ruckus in the background. He resumed his place,
arm along the back of the sofa, Lyn curled up on the
cushions at his side.
Those buttons begged to be undone. Some thought Renton
daggy because he wore button-up linen shirts rather than
tees or tank-tops, but Lyn needed no convincing of the
turn-on value of buttons. Suddenly fey, she leaned
across his chest. Renton's pulse quickened, for he had
barely dared hope for her attention to stray to his
nipples. Instead, she did something every bit as sexy,
and kissed his top button, before wiggling it about with
her pointy, pink tongue.
"Whoa," he murmured with a crooked grin. Lyn smiled up
at him, then parted the fabric between the buttons
enough so that she could taste the skin of his chest.
Then she kissed the next button...found the next gap,
tongue darting for a single soft taste. Kissed the next
button, and onward, down his midline. Her hands found
his waist under the hem of his shirt, and roved across
his taut stomach, feeling every ripple. "Don't bite," he
cautioned, "or you might swallow one!"
Lyn giggled, lifting his shirt, in search of his navel.
His belt-buckle thwarted her, so she wiggled her tongue
as far down behind it as she could, coiling the soft
hairs of his midline round and round.
"All right," he breathed, gazing down into her big,
round eyes. Taking her shoulders, he lifted her back to
her seat. "I think it's high time you got a bit of your
own medicine." He lowered his mouth to that part of her
blouse where the fabric was tightest over the curve of
her breast. He used his lips to knead and massage
through her clothing, while fingertips that trembled
slightly touched her waist, pulling her top upward. He
paused in his kissing, glancing at her face as he
revealed her bra.
"It's hot," she smiled, raising her arms over her head.
This did spectacular things to her breasts, which Renton
watched speechlessly as he lifted her shirt off over her
head. Lyn has pouty, cupid's bow lips, and it was these
he kissed while his hands went to the wonder of her
breasts, cupping them, moving them about, running his
thumbs under the rim of her bra to find the soft areola
and nipple, hoping he could encourage the underwear to
spill her breasts out. She helped by wiggling her
shoulders so that her straps fell down from her
shoulders, while her tongue probed his mouth
authoritatively, teaching him to kiss with fire and
passion as well as with gentleness. Her hands undid his
buttons and caressed his stomach and sides, and she
pinched his nipples for good measure.
"Yeah, go on, do that, please!" he sighed, shouldering
out of his shirt and laying back, inviting her to play;
to nibble and nip, to lick and swirl her tongue about
his nipples while he tugged at her bra and kneaded her
breasts. With a laugh she put him out of his misery and
unhitched the offending underwear. Catching them in his
hands as gently as though he handled delicate china, he
kissed her nipples with profound care, only once before
sitting back to gaze earnestly into her eyes.
"Why did you stop?" she asked.
"I...didn't want to rough you up. You said Russ was a
bit rough with you, and...I'm kind of big and I don't
know my own strength sometimes...and, I wondered if I
was doing it right, this is, like, the first time..." he
mumbled, trailing away awkwardly as he blushed, fiery as
his hair. Lyn's face lit with joy and love.
"Oh but it's been wonderful so far, wonderful! Russ
would have yanked my panties off by now!" She brought
her face very close to his so that she could feel the
heat of his blush. "What do _you_ want to do now,
Renton?" He opened his mouth to speak, but she kissed
him to silence, and kept his lips closed with a
fingertip. "Don't tell me. Show me."
Renton knelt, and caught her knee between his big hands.
With one, he caressed the outer sweep of her thigh,
running his hand over the cloth of her skirt, right up
to her hip and the flare of her rump, then back down
again, relishing the smooth curve. She was sitting part-
twisted toward him so that her thighs were together,
knees tucked one behind the other. With his other hand,
he made little circles with his thumb on the soft skin
inside her knee, trailing it with little kisses. She
responded by rotating her pelvis and squaring her
posture, so that her legs came ever so slightly apart.
Slowly, in wonder, he let his hand roam further up her
inner thigh, beneath and around, fabric pushed up as his
lips ventured after those questing fingers. His breath
was a hot feather on the warm, sensitive silk of her
skin. He lay his cheek upon the silken cushion of her
thigh, and at last his fingertips touched the cotton
veil at the end of their quest - a brief, fleeting
touch.
She couldn't help but gasp, and he kissed her thigh and
drew back. She was angry at herself for making that
noise, for it had been one of excitement rather than
fear, spurred by the jolt of need that had shocked her
clitoris. But he had stopped. "I'm sorry, was that too
much?" he whispered by her knee.
"No, no, it was nice! Do you want to do it again?" She
parted her knees a little more. He rocked back, gazing
at her lap.
"Stand up." She watched him curiously as she did so,
wiggling her hips slowly as she did for the wonderful,
womanly sensation of it. He put his hands up to the
side-seams of her skirt. "See," he explained softly,
eyes locked to her thighs in spite of her naked breasts
above, "you have the most gorgeous legs, Lyn, and I wish
sometimes you would wear your dresses higher...a bit
higher..." He lifted the hemline an inch at a time,
savouring the view. She moved her pelvis with every
rise, posing, and held her dress up for him as more leg
was exposed so that he could touch and kiss her. That
hemline climbed, up to mini, and then beyond, revealing
the demure crotch of her knickers.
"Would you like me to take my skirt off?" she invited.
He could only give a nod for reply; then sat back again
to watch the skirt drop and her step daintily from it.
He circled her thigh with his hands and slowly stroked
them up and down, the inner hand rising to graze her
crotch every time, lingering a little longer.
"I think...I'm really wet now," she whispered, wishing
he would venture beyond that barrier. He gazed up at her
solemnly before backing away again.
He stood, gazing down at her feminine splendour. "Your
turn," he said hoarsely. "Only do what you want to do."
Her eyes roved his torso for a moment; his groin,
looking for something and not sure of what she saw. "I
want your bellybutton," she said wickedly, and he gave a
nervous laugh. She kissed his nipples again, tongueing
them leisurely while her hands went to his belt. She
didn't need any help managing thick leather, and she
unfastened his top shorts button as well, but did not
unzip him. She merely pushed his pants down his hips as
low as they would ride, then knelt to run her tongue
around and around his navel. With her palms she felt the
way his muscles rippled, all sweeping down to that one
secret destination still lurking beneath his shorts.
Drawing away from his navel, she admired him; he was so
lean that she could even see the veins that twined
south. Everything vanished into the dense bush of russet
coils just visible above his jocks.
Red hair, so Renton, so wonderful! There was only one
place left to go. She loosened his zipper as she pressed
her lips to his stomach just above his pubes, and it was
his turn to gasp. When she looked up at him, his face
had clouded with worry. But she wasn't afraid now, and
she knew what she wanted. She knew to proceed with care
getting the waistband past a stiffly-protruding
knob...yet somehow, Renton didn't seem to be in the way.
His shorts and jocks slid down easily. Then she saw why.
"Oh my god!"
Simply put, Renton was huge. So large and heavy when
erect that he hung down, seemingly halfway to his knees.
So thick she wondered how she would get her hand around
him.
"I - I thought you said eight inches was a myth!"
He looked miserable now. "I really wish it was," he
murmured.
"Oh, Renton!" She stood up and threw her arms around
him, holding him close, her heart wanting to banish the
misery from his face as her body revelled in the feeling
of his skin against hers; the springy curls of his pubes
against her belly, and that incredible...long...heat
that dangled toward her wetness.
They stood like that for a long time, together, holding
each other. "I hope I didn't, ah, frighten you or
anything," he murmured into her hair at last. "There was
no easy way to, er, tell you."
"I'm not frightened," she said, cupping his face in her
hands. "I could never be afraid of you, Renton."
"But it still gave you a bit of a shock," he insisted
soberly.
She couldn't deny that much. "Russ was like, little, and
I couldn't deal with him, er..." _Where does all that
go!_ had come to mind, she couldn't deny it.
"Lyn, listen to me," he murmured, kissing her brow and
holding her close again, rocking her gently. His size
against her had shrunken somewhat; she wanted to touch
him, to compare him to what she knew, to check she
wasn't imagining things. "I know you had troubles with
Russ. We don't ever have to make love if you don't want
to. We can just fool around, if that's what you want,
Lyn - or if you want we can forget the whole thing."
"Shh, you silly thing," she whispered, pressing a finger
to his lips. "I love you, and I _like_ fooling around
with you. Can we do it some more?"
A big grin split his face, banishing the worry. "If you
want...you mean it? Well, um...what do you want to do
now?"
"I want to get really naked. It's a really, really hot
night!"
They pushed off their shoes and socks, and Renton helped
Lyn take off her knickers, kissing her navel and
squeezing her buttocks on the way. Then he flung himself
into the sofa again, laughing, euphoric with relief. She
hadn't run off screaming. He'd been afraid she might.
Instead, she was lounging beside him, gazing at his
body, then into his eyes.
"You are beautiful, Lyn," he whispered, caressing her
face and shoulder, the curve of her breast. Her nipple
rose up to his touch, and he lowered his lips to it. She
was trailing her fingers along his belly and hips,
glancing from his face to that incredible crotch.
Whether or not she could bring herself to have him, he
loved the way she looked at him, and told her so.
"Do you?" she smiled, reaching down to stroke him,
fascinated. Edgy as she was about the main event, how
could she not touch and feel something so rare and
awesome? He groaned in delight at her touch, and she
felt his weight. He was heating up, the skin stretching
over corded veins; smooth, slotted head emerging from
beneath the foreskin.
"That's even better!" he sighed. She held him up; lay
him to one side, the other; up toward his navel, amazed
at his shape and reach. While she played, he touched her
thighs and hips, her breasts, and kissed her body.
"How do I know when I'm wet enough?" she whispered
plaintively.
"Oh, Lyn!" he whispered, gathering her close into a safe
little ball, hugging her tightly. She trembled for a
moment; then faced him bravely.
"There's a way we could try this," he suggested at
length, gulping. "We could just rub against each other
until we come. Would you want to try that?"
She glanced about the room, then swivelled around,
putting her leg across his lap. Although the lounge was
deep, there was enough length to him that his cockhead
could bump against her labia, and he put his hand in his
crotch for extra support. Tentatively at first, Lyn
wiggled her hips, just touching him. He leaned forward
so that his tongue could just catch her nipples, and she
leaned into him too, allowing his mouth to close over
the soft skin. As she rubbed along his tip her labia
started to part, yielding a hot, slick path for him to
glide upon.
Renton groaned. His body wanted to thrust; his back was
unnaturally arched, body cramping. "Lyn, Lyn, hop up a
minute," he whispered.
She stood up, doe-eyed, standing with her legs slightly
parted. The gentle light of the corner lamp highlighted
the pert upsweep of her breast, and the fuzzy halo of
her pubes. He leaned up again to kiss her right there,
and breathe her scent, then climbed out of the seat.
"We should be comfortable," he said, taking her hand and
leading her toward the bedrooms.
Her heart hammered in her throat, anticipating what was
to come. The fumbling, the shoving, the anticlimax...She
had been to Renton's house before, had been in his room,
and knew where his parents' room was. He led her along
the hallway and she followed meekly, expecting the
double bed, the sheets turned back, the candlelight. But
he led her past that dark doorway, along to his own
room, a comfortable jumble, single bed with doona thrown
carelessly aside. They had sat here together and looked
at comics and listened to CD's and played Trivial
Pursuit. This was a place she liked being.
He clicked on a desk-lamp, then gathered her close and
kissed her gently. Then he lay on the bed, pushing the
doona aside. "Can we try that again?" he asked, taking
his cock in one hand and stroking it up toward his
navel.
Lyn watched that languid movement, fascinated. Whatever
her fears, her clitoris was throbbing like never before.
It couldn't harm to slip along that amazing ridge, to
press and wriggle herself against him? Only masturbation
had felt this good. Straddling him, she lowered herself
to him, letting her weight sink upon him until her lips
parted around his thickness. She found she could slide
along him, every long inch of him, as smoothly as liquid
glass.
In that way, she felt him, using a part of her body she
had never thought of as a sensory organ. From the
rougher coils of the pubes at his base, along the shaft
right up to where the tip of the head flared, the
rounded knob at the end; she wanted to hold that within
her petals, to move and slide around him. "See, Lyn," he
breathed, "you've got the controls, you can do as much
as you want." He took her hand and guided it down to
where their bodies rubbed, and she raised herself up. He
put her hand around his shaft, which was slippery with
her juices. "You can have as much or as little as you
want."
Her eyes were locked with his in wonder, as she lifted
his cock to rub it around her clit. She was trembling,
her pelvis moving in little circles. She moved his
fleshy head around and around, sliding between her clit
and that hollow behind it, rolling it between her labia
and pushing, feeling his solidity. While she played, he
ran his fingertips in long, feathery strokes down her
body and breasts. Her whole vagina clenched needfully,
and she rocked involuntarily.
Suddenly, there came a wonderful, soft, popping
sensation as her entry relaxed and his whole cockhead
entered her. Each saw the other's surprise as they
gasped. She didn't dare move, for fear of losing her
hold on him.
"Gently, Lyn, gently," he coached her. Very slowly, she
started to move. Down she went, feeling a wondrous
stretching that made her vagina want to clench. With
every contraction the fullness inside her felt
extraordinary, and Renton groaned. Then she moved up and
the feeling changed, a wonderful drawing, and she
hesitated when she felt he was going to pop out again.
Slid down, taking more of him. Her hand was in the way,
so she let go and slid down harder. Gorgeous spasms were
rocking her already, white heat building in the core of
her being. It would only explode if she rode him...rode
him, up and down, finding her rhythm. His eyes were like
saucers as her body pounded upon his. More, more!
Grabbing his pelvis, she drove herself down as hard as
she could, and he thrust upward to meet her. He rammed
up against something deep inside - and she cried out in
wonder as pure ecstasy speared her and her eyes flooded
with light, sobbing for breath as the aftershocks took
her. He was still thrusting, shaking, fingers tight on
her thighs as she collapsed from that peak, and felt him
shake and gasp. Then their bodies melted together as one
breathless, sweat-slicked glow.
She could still feel him inside her, head trapped by her
hold. She squeezed him, and was disappointed as he
slipped away. But he would come back. They both needed
to rest.
A big hand cupped her head lovingly, fingers twining in
her hair. "Did I hurt you?" he asked carefully.
"No, Renton," she whispered, "you wonderful man!"
"That was...my first," he said dazedly. "You...we..."
She kissed his lips fiercely, silencing him. "I love
you!"
***
So there you went. Lyn discovered sex wasn't so bad
after all, and I kind of wished she'd left out telling
me how _big_ Renton was, it stirs up the wrong kind of
curiosity entirely.
Back at school, and there were Sean and Cathy hanging
together, Lyn and Renton being disgustingly cuddly. I
was welcome to hang around with them, of course, but
three really is a crowd when you're number Three. Renton
tried to approach me on my own a couple of times, as
though he wanted to apologise or something. "And for our
runner-up, the consolation prize of one hammy apology!"
I muttered. Mitch was still leering at me, and I even
let him sit with me for appearances sake. Of course, if
I just wanted to have sex, he would be an instant
solution - if I survived the facial vacuuming first.
Of course, I thought of Kieran, but my feelings were
uncomfortably ambivalent. Like tunnel vision, they
always focused on Thursday night, and my mission; then
the leaky canoe. So then I thought about the car. I'd
recently gained my drivers' licence, and being a garage-
owner's daughter there would be no way I'd be without a
car, even if I hadn't wanted one! Dad and my brothers
would see to that. A likely first-car candidate had been
found, and I had been persuaded to part with most of my
savings on its account. Cathy was learning to drive her
mother's car, but wasn't likely to own one for herself.
Lyn wasn't interested in it at all. I was determined to
steal a march on them automotively if not sexually.
Thursday night hung over the week like some pall of
doom. Like the storm that had trapped Sean and Cathy at
the Point. I weakly told myself I wouldn't go
smutsurfing; then grabbed the regular block of rum 'n'
raisin. Cathy's brother dropped us up there, and Sean
showed us in; I thought I must have been going down with
a cold for the buzzing and crackling in my ears.
We took our usual places, Sean in the lounge reading and
watching telly, while Cathy and I dragged a couple of
chairs in front of Kieran's computer and logged-on. The
workshop was otherwise locked-up and silent, just like
always, Kieran away doing whatever he did on Thursday
evenings. Cathy found a few .mpegs that looked
interesting and got them downloading, and we flicked
through a few pictures. "Ohh, pass on the Well-Hung
Studs, please," I moaned, and Cathy laughed.
"Wonder if Renton's amidst the red-headed ones?" she
asked wickedly. Her voice sounded thin and faraway, as
though my ears were full of water.
"Stop it or I'll barf!"
As ever, the sight of a few hunks with nice tumid
penises could get me interested, and the lower half of
my body warmed with appreciation to that low simmer
which is acceptable for public locations and non-sexual
company. But the urge to look around was an unbearable
itch, for there was a cabinet behind me that contained
something important, something I absolutely HAD to take
care of...
"Are you all right?" Cathy asked. "You look a bit pale."
"Yeah, I'm okay, I got dumped at the beach and still got
water in my ears, might be getting an infection. You go
ahead there, I've just got to check the Lorelei files,
then I might go over to the house and see if they've got
some inhaler or something." That was my out, my excuse.
I didn't feel sick at all, although my ears were
roaring.
I got up, on legs like jelly. I walked to the filing
cabinet, and pulled out the bottom drawer with sweaty
hands. There it was! It had little bells on ribbons as
decoration, and much as I loathed the idea of touching
the actual skullbones, I made myself grab it that way to
keep the bells silent, muffled by my skin. Grit my teeth
to keep from gasping at the feel of it. Looked at Cathy,
who had her back to me and was clicking the mouse,
intent on the screen.
With exaggerated nonchalance, I kicked the drawer shut
with my foot, then swaggered to the outside door,
keeping my hand with the thing low and inconspicuous.
Kieran would hate me forever for doing this. I would
never go kayaking again. I eased the door open quietly,
slipped outside, then eased it shut.
<1st attachment end>
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