Carla Hadim - Wild And Willing

She was nervous when he kissed her. She smelled sweet, like fresh lake water. Her hands shook slightly as she placed one tentatively on the back of Rick's neck. Rick remembered clearly all the steps he had gone through with Linda.

She was a virgin, innocent and trusting and willing but scared. Rick had thought he was a good cocksman, despite the fact that he had had only two pieces of ass in his whole life.

His first girl nearly got away from him, as so many had previously. They were in a drive-in movie and Rick had her naked from the waist up.

He kept kissing her tits, sucking her nipples, running his hands up and down her back. He was afraid to try to get into her pants, afraid for two reasons: one, she might give in and he wouldn't know what to do, and two, that she might get mad and make him stop sucking her nipples. But this girl was different and solved his problem by saying, rather sarcastically, "Don't you know how zippers work?" She opened the front of her jeans, pushing them off her hips, and raised herself up from the seat so that Rick had no choice except to put his left hand between her legs. He remembered how surprised he had been at how wet she was, how easily his fingers slipped inside her. Later he managed to get his own pants open and the rubber on his dick and he flicked her. His second piece of ass had been only a few weeks before he left home for the counselling job. A maid his mother hired to come once a week had caught Rick at home alone and without even turning off the vacuum cleaner she had pulled his cut-offs down around his ankles and given him his first blow job and as soon as his still-stiff prick got over being sensitive she lay on the living room rug and let Rick shove it up her cunt So he felt he was a real cocksman, out on the lake at night with Linda Long, the country girl.

She lay with her one hand behind her head, the other on the back of Rick's neck, as he unbuttoned her shirt. He tugged the tails out of her jeans and opened her skin to the moonlight. She wore a small, maidenly white brassiere. Rick traced a finger across her throat, down between her breasts, over a little bow in the middle of her bra, down her mid-section to just below her belly button.

She put both hands around his head and kissed his mouth, possibly hoping that would stop the downward plunge of his fingers, but his hand did not stop, slid over her belt, across her firm abdomen and down between her legs. Her mound was big for a young girl, dropped off suddenly into the crevice that led to her ass, and Rick held on there as Linda thrust her ass off the blanket, planted both feet squarely on the ground and pushed up hard against his palm, against his fingers that pressed her soft parts. And Rick discovered that she was not thrusting up to get rid of his hand, but to push harder against it.

Within seconds he had her belt open, was sliding her pants off her hips, and Linda kicked them off her bare feet. They rolled together a moment, Rick's hard-on stretching along his pants, Linda's naked legs locking his hips, his fingers fondling, holding her ass. Then they broke free of each other so Rick could stand up quickly and strip off his own clothes and lie down beside Linda again, their flesh touching, their legs blending together. She slid her open shirt off her shoulders and Rick's tongue crossed her naked tits. She touched his cock, gently, at first timidly, then roamed down to his balls. She helped him lie over her and as she spread her thighs she guided him into her, raising her cunt to meet him again as she wanted it, wanted to be fucked. Rick worked into her slowly, fucked into her with just the head, pressed harder and he felt her virginity parting, giving way, and when her mouth fastened on his he pressed in harder and his cock was sliding all the way up her virgin, willing, hungry cunt.

He was pleased to find how nice it was to fuck a willing virgin, that she took all his cock easily. She came quickly and when she was riding into it again Rick couldn't holdback anymore and let go and as he flooded her full of his come she held onto him as if he was the only firm grip in a slippery world, her small frame quivering with excitement, tensing and relaxing, joyful, her own coming passing over and over her body. It was the first time he had come without a rubber inside a girl and the thought of his come shooting far up inside her, farther even than his long cock could stretch set him on fire, and before he withdrew, his cock let him know it wanted more and he fucked her again, slower this time, able to draw it out and build up gradually until their brains were filled with nothing but the idea of their own fucking. After they dressed and paddled back to the camp, Rick flicked her once more, lying on burlap sacks in the boathouse, his cock seemingly longer and harder than it had ever been in his life.

Within a week he had started screwing the camp director's wife, a tempting seductress of twenty-six who taught Rick most of what he knew about fucking and sucking, and being fucked and sucked. The camp director's wife spent entire nights with Rick in an empty bunkhouse and one night while Rick had to stay on duty she even crept into his bunkhouse where he was asleep with all his charges and woke Rick by touching his sleeping fingers to her soaking, wriggling cunt. That was the first time Rick sucked her off, as she lay spread-eagled on his narrow cot.

And Linda? Well, Linda was a nice kid and a good fuck but she could not compare to the camp director's wife, who had had years of experience and knew how to lead a sixteen-year-old kid around with his fingers aching to get into her hole. So Linda spent the rest of the summer trying to date Rick again, trying to get him at least to take her canoeing. Once she coaxed him into the boathouse and might have gotten a fuck out of him but he was late for a rendezvous with the director's wife. All other times he was too busy, going here and there and always winding up in the empty bunkhouse with the wife and he forgot about Linda as if she had been an old pair of pants that had gotten ripped up the crotch. He was interested only in the new pair, the ones that wrapped so nicely around his hips as he fucked and fucked and fucked. He was sixteen and thought life would be like that always. One night he came five times, twice in her mouth and three times in her cunt. And the next morning, before reveille, he woke to find her sucking on his cock and he fucked her once more, from behind, his hands playing in her cunt as his cock plunged in and out of it, his fingers tweaking her clit.

He didn't know if Linda spent the rest of the summer jacking off against a tree, or what.

And now he realized that he knew why he was thinking of her. He wanted Jenny Roman the same way Linda had wanted him, and now there was as little chance of that happening as there had been, from Linda's view-point, when he started dicking the camp director's wife. It had been completely beyond Linda's control, and now through his own actions Rick had let Jenny Roman get completely beyond his fucking.

He felt slightly sick, out on the bay teaching the kids how to sail. He felt out of it, like he was suddenly too old to take part in fucking young girls. He felt almost as if he would like to slip over the stern and let the ocean envelop him, as if he wanted to fuck the ocean and sink deep into it and never come up.

But when the kid who was fanning the tiller came about suddenly and nearly capsized the boat, Rick grabbed the rod and righted the craft, knowing he didn't want to fuck the ocean at all. That was for losers. He wanted to win. But how?

Old Mrs. Simpson's idea of a love bed was a single flowered sheet draped over a daybed in the basement rec room of her summer home.

"How do you do?" she asked, shaking Rick's hand at the door as if he were a visiting salesman. She did all of her shopping at home, from clothes to groceries to automobiles. The salesmen brought their suggestions to her and she wrote out lists for them in a cramped, laborious handwriting. She shopped for men the same way. Rick's appointment had been arranged by Elizabeth Cruise, who had become such an ardent advocate for the sale of his prick that he began to think she was getting a commission. He would have liked to have delivered the commission himself, because he was already tired of slack skin and sagging breasts. He would have appreciated even the loose firmness of Elizabeth's body again, and he remembered with fondness the way her thirty-five-year-old breasts still had a lot of life as opposed to the dry, often withered tits of some of his customers.