Party Time/Party Time.iso/pt/story/myfirst.txt

Text File | 1992-02-15 | 15KB | 209 lines

                                   First Time

                                     By MBK

     Everyone has a first time, many are hurried affairs in the back of a
steamy car or in a bedroom under constant and excitement fear of discovery.
Many come at the hands of someone your own age, the fumbling and shyness and
embarrassment being part of the thrill of the moment.  But sometimes that first
time comes at the hands of one much older than yourself, and what would have
been a brief journey with a girl, becomes a wonderful adventure with a woman.
It happened to me that way, with a neighbor.  This story is for Eager Beaver or
anyone else to read and perhaps remember a time when ignorance was bliss and
every touch pushed the envelope of experience to the edge and beyond.

     Mrs. Jenkins, Doris, was the wife of a large and gruff man, John.  John
was a concrete man and never really had two words to say to anyone including
Doris.  They lived next door to us in a rather unremarkable house that was all
but paved over in beautiful concrete work.  This was suburbia and it was 1969.
Ours was like many of the endless housing tracts in Southern California, small
low houses built right on top of one another.  I had a bedroom on the sideyard
of the house with a window that looked across a small stretch of ground, over a
fence and into the bathroom window of the Jenkins house.  On most mornings I
could be awakened to the sound of John running the shower and making the noises
one makes while getting ready for work.  I usually turned over and tried to get
a little more sleep.  I had always dreamed, you know the kinds of dreams that
give young men hard-ons in history class, about seeing Doris one day through
the bathroom window.  The trouble was that the bottom of their window was high,
and the top of mine too low.  So while I could hear her splashing about in the
shower, seeing her was only in the line of sight of my imagination.

     Perhaps it was luck, perhaps destiny, I'm not sure that I pondered it as I
was pulled into the attic of our house through the hatchway in my closet.  I
always hated going into the small cramped roof area.  I suppose my father
thought it would be fun for me to go with him into that hot, dusty place.  It
always smelled the way a car smells when following a bus down a dirt road. Kind
of oily and dusty.  The kind of smell that lingers on you long after you've
come back down into the world of cool and light.  It was during one of these
expeditions that I discovered, what was to me, a window on my dreams. The side
of the house that has no eaves, the hip side, was where my bedroom was.
Unnoticed by me, there was, right above my head, a vent!  As my father
disappeared into the mist and dust toward some unknown destination, I moved
over to the vent to try and grab a few breathes of fresh air from the outside.

     As I pressed my nose against the wire mesh that covered the louvers, I
became aware the I could see into the side yard.  Not only into the side yard,
but the Jenkins side yards as well.  My eyes rose a bit and there in all its
glory, through the window on the wall stood the Jenkins toilet!  Complete with
yellow rugs and matching toilet paper.  And right across from it just beyond
the towel rack, I could see the shower.  My imagination went wild, I knew
instantly that this was the stuff of permanent erections and I began to plot. I
was shaken awake by my father asking for some tool or another probably to be
used in a way that it was never intended.  My father was the kind that used a
screwdriver to stir paint or a pipe wrench as a hammer.  I scooted off toward
his bellowing and more dust, but I was smiling, I had found my crystal ball.

     That evening I could hardly sleep.  I had moved some boxes under the hatch
so that I might gain access.  I couldn't risk using the ladder.  I had my dust
clothes ready and a roll of toilet paper was there too.  I wanted to be
prepared.  I suppose I fell asleep, but I was awake like a shot the instant the
alarm that I had set went off.  I lay in bed, heart pounding like a freight
train, listening for the first splash of the shower next door.  Just like
clockwork, at 5am John came into the bathroom.  My plan had been to wait until
he was mostly done before I went into the roof.  Even through all my
excitement, the thought of the dust made me shiver.  At last I heard him
finishing up and I went into action.  Up the boxes, move the hatch aside, pull
myself into the attic.  Smooth cat-like motions, I was a 15 year old version of
the Spiderman, Batman, and Daredevil all rolled into one.  As I made my way to
the vent, I heard her enter the bathroom and close the door.  I arrived at my
perch just as she was looking into the mirror.  She was wearing a somewhat
faded flannel nightgown that went to the floor.  She must have been about 42 or
43 three at the time, but to me she was Sophia Loren in the prime of life.  She
bent over to turn on the shower and all of a sudden she was pulling the
nightgown over her head!  She was there live, and nude in front of me, I had
never seen a woman like this before.  She had smooth white skin, her breasts
hung down as she bent over the sink to brush her teeth, her round ass
protruding out behind her.  As she waited for the shower to warm, she sat on
the closed toilet seat and began to clip her toenails.  I nearly passed out as
her legs spread and revealed a wonderful view of (my first) cunt!  At this
point I realized that I had not breathed in quite awhile and was getting light
headed.  I was a little confused, In the nudist magazines that I had sneaked a
peek at in my uncle's house, the women always had great bushes of pubic hair
sprouting from their pussys.  But Doris had none. It took me a few minutes in
my hormone overloaded state that she must shave herself.  Sure enough, just
before she entered the shower, she reached over to the sink and grabbed a
razor.  It was obvious to me that I had died and gone to heaven, no proof
required.

     This scene repeated itself for the next few months.  And although it was
exciting, I began to long for more.  I knew that their bedroom window faced a
group of trees in their backyard and that you could climb them.  Because of the
privacy the trees afforded, Doris usually opened the curtains to the bedroom in
the morning.  I had seen her do this several times on Saturday morning as I cut
the back lawn.  What I didn't know was how early she opened them during the
week.  I was soon to find out.  Rising before dawn, I positioned myself at the
fence line, careful not to wake the Cornet's dog that lived behind us, and
waited for some action.  As I heard John pull out of the drive, and the sun
began to rise, I saw the shades part and Doris's face appear in the window.  I
was frozen in place, luckily the sun came right into their room and must have
blinded her to the sight of a cold but excited boy looking directly at her. The
next morning I made my move.

     Why is it that when you're trying to be quiet, every sound is like a
gunshot in a tunnel?  I made my noisy way over the fence and hid in the bushes
just below the window.  The sound of a car, the swoosh of the curtains, I was
ready and my heart just about jumped out and onto the ground.  I rose up and
peeked around the edge of the opened curtains.  I could see the whole room save
the door and part of the wall to my left.  I had a full view of the bed, the
closet and the dresser.  A blur caught my left eye, she was coming in after her
shower!  It was her, in all her glory, and much bigger than from the vent! As
she dried herself she started rummaging through the drawers of her dresser for
something.  What she pulled out about made my knees buckle, it was about a 10"
dildo.  (I knew what is was because I had seen ads for them in the skin
magazines my friend James had hidden under his house.)  I vowed right then and
there that if I could watch for just a little longer I would join the
priesthood and do nothing but chant and eat rice for the rest of my life.  She
moved to the bed, lay down and began to caress her breasts with the vibrating
rod.  Her hand moved to her cunt as her chest rose and fell with heavy
breathing.  She moved the thing over her nipples until they were hard and
swollen.  Her hand was moving faster as it dug between the lips of her pussy.
As the dildo moved down her body, over her stomach, and across her thighs, I
pulled out of my pants the biggest hard-on the western world had ever seen.  I
began to pump my cock as I watched, hypnotized by what I was seeing.  I had no
fear of getting caught, I was all eyes and cock.  With a quick motion she
plunged the dildo into her cunt and I squirted a gallon of cum all over an
innocent bush.  When I had recovered a bit I saw that she was riding the dildo
with as much passion as I had ever seen in a woman.  Even those grainy, fuzzy
nasty movies weren't as good as this.  She continued until her entire body was
racked with spasm and she lay very still.  I am still not sure what happened
next.  I must have not bent over quite far enough to pull up my pants, the top
of my head must have been showing above the sill of the window.  Anyway, when I
rose to leave, I heard "Did you like what you saw?".  It was Doris, standing in
the window looking out at me.

     I felt as though every organ in my body had turned to stone and that I
would never move again.  I heard myself say yes, and I heard her say for me to
come around again the next morning.  Somehow I started to move toward the
fence, but was told to use the gate.  At that point I wasn't sure I could
remember what a gate was let alone find it.  But somehow I made it home.  When
I finally got back into my bed after what felt like years later, I knew I was
going to have to hide another hard-on from Mrs. Quinn with my copy of World
History, Volume one.  Needless to say I got no sleep the that night.  I was
beginning to think that sex and sleep were somehow incompatible and that is the
reason why Jim Hamilton and Roxy Barnes always looked so tired at school, they
were seniors, you know.  I was up long before the sun and ready.  I had gone so
far as to bring a pan of water into my room so I could wash up without making
any noise. When at last I heard John's car pull out, I quickly went out the
back door into the Jenkins back yard and stood before the gates of Heaven,
which also doubled as their back door.  After a gentle knock and what seemed
like several hours, Doris answered the door and I was ushered in.  She was
wearing a silk house coat and it was tight enough around her so that I could
see she had nothing underneath.  She had me sit down at the kitchen table and
we began to talk. Talk!  Gad I wanted sex!  I reminded myself that these things
take time and being the cool, suave, man about town that I was, I fumbled with
the chair, stubbed my toe and generally plopped into the seat.  She asked me
how many times I had seen her.  I was very red-faced as I blurted out the whole
story of the vent and the window and how beautiful she was and how I felt like
dieing. With that she came over to me, opened her robe and pulled my mouth
against her breast.  She told me to suck, but not hard and to lick all around
the little button.  I couldn't believe the great feelings that were stirring in
my body. It was like every nerve was alive!  The transition to the bedroom and
the removal of my clothes is somewhat foggy to this day.  However it came
about, we were now in her bed and she had her mouth firmly around my cock.  She
worked and stroked and licked my throbbing rod until I was sure that I felt my
brains starting to leak from my skull.  By the time she made me cum, I was sure
of it. She continued to suck me after I had cum, and to my amazement, a few
minutes later I had another hard-on.  When she was satisfied with the job she
had done, she moved up the bed and told me she was going to teach me how to
serve a woman. It started with her neck and how to kiss it.  Moving to her ears
and how to nibble them.  Her breathing was getting faster and I wanted to grab
my cock in the worst way.  I moved down her chest with clumsy kisses, she put
my hands to her breasts and taught me by touch how to fondle them.  I kissed
and sucked her nipples and she moved my hands to her cunt.  It felt so smooth
and wet, and at first I pawed at her.  She guided me with her hands how to
touch lightly and where her clit was.  Several minutes of this had me on the
verge of cumming. I must have looked like a man who has found water in the
desert, she stopped us and settled me down.  When we started up again she
gently pushed my head down her stomach, between her legs.  I lapped like a
hungry dog, and through gentle nudges she positioned my eager tongue to her hot
spot.  She started to move her hips and buck against my mouth,  I got a little
afraid and started to back off.  She pulled me back and I must have sensed that
this was the way things are supposed to happen.  With renewed vigor I plunged
into her pussy and licked for all I was worth.  By the time she came in a
glorious upheaval, I had three fingers buried deep in her cunt and a face full
of love juice.

     Doris then pulled me up by my shoulders until I lay upon her, my cock
rubbing against the outside of her cunt.  I was lost in bliss and she guided my
cock into her warm pussy and told me to move slowly with her.  I wanted to pump
like crazy, but her firm but gentle touch, slowed me and let us build together.
Soon she was moaning, I was moaning, the bedsprings were moaning, the whole
world was moaning as far as I knew......... and the fireworks came.  I exploded
into her as she moved and bucked against me.  We were bouncing so hard we
nearly flew off onto the floor...........for awhile I lay against her and
listened to her soft breath as she slept.  Though it felt like days, I had only
been there about an hour when I left.  We repeated our dance quite a few times
in the next few weeks and I learned lessons that have helped me respect and
love and satisfy the women I have met in my life.  Doris and I continued off
and on for the next 4 years until I went away to college.  I wrote to her and
saw her occasionally on my visits home.  In most stories this is were the
relationship would end, but not this time.  I am now thirty five and Doris is
63.  John died about 8 years ago and when I heard I gave her a call to offer my
sympathy.  We started up again about a year later and for the last seven years
I have been lucky enough to be in her bed whenever the urge takes us. Sometimes
the first is the best, and sometimes you get lucky enough to have every time
feel like the first time.