Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 30

The pretence over, we started to kiss and pet. Touching each other all over our clothed bodies. Sally rubbed my genitals through my trousers and when she got the desired rise out of me, she unzipped me and went to extract my cock to play with. I grabbed her hand in panic and reminded her that her parents were only downstairs, as if she didn’t know! “Relax,” she said, “They won’t come up here this early, and they certainly won’t come in my room without my permission. It’s not as if we’re going to fuck up here, with them all home.”

So, the limits had been set. Fucking was out, but other forms of sex seemed to be on the table still. I was still uneasy, but I let go of her hand, allowing her to continue freeing my erect penis. It was the first time she had seen it in the light, and she spent a few moments examining it from all angles. I’ve never pretended I had anything special, but she seemed satisfied with what she found and started to gently jerk me off, adding a sort of twisting motion at the top of each stroke, causing me to sharply draw breath at the feeling.

Not to be outdone, I again moved my hand under Sally’s skirt and into the waistband of her knickers. This time there was no resistance and I advanced my touch, past her soft bushy mound, until I felt the outer lips of her vulva. As she continued to wank me, I caressed her sex. Running my fingers along each side of her body lips, then along her parting, drawing a soft groan. I started to apply gentle pressure, allowing my finger to tease into her deeper, feeling her moist interior for the first time.

Without warning, Sally dropped my dick, reached under her skirt, and pulled down her pants, slipping them off and tossing them off the bed onto the floor, before parting her legs to give me full access to her. Resuming our mutual masturbation, I returned my hand and pressed my fingers into her cleft. I sought and found her clitoris, circling it with my finger tip, feeling it engorge in its fleshy hood. Sally was wriggling her hips now, telling me I was doing okay.

As I stimulated her, I could feel my own climax was not a million miles away. As the feeling rose higher, I recalled Sally’s words from the previous Friday, after she bought me off in that porch, “…I want to see you again, for my turn.” It had been said, tongue in cheek, but it was a valid expectation. I needed to abort my own orgasm, for now at least, and concentrate on hers.

I reminded her of this and pulling away from her grasp, I moved to kneel between her legs. Overcoming a slight resistance, I lifted and separated her knees opening her fully, then lifted the hem of her denim skirt above her waist. She lifted her arse off the bed momentarily to allow me to pull it up, completely. With the skirt out of the way, Sally’s swimsuit area was fully bared to my gaze. On the scale of 1-10, it was a definite 10 (though on reflection, what vulva isn’t a 10!). Capped by a fairly sparse dark bush, her by now plump and pink, outer lips were parted, to reveal her silky, wet inner labia. Her clitoris, erect from my touch, peeked delicately from under its protective hood. At its base, her vaginal opening was prominently visible, inviting me to penetrate it somehow. I was happy to oblige.

Shifting down to bring my face level with Sally’s crotch, I plunged my tongue into her gaping hole. Her hips raised several inches off the bed and her hands gripped the back of my head, holding my mouth firmly against her. I tongued her vagina for several minutes, before moving my mouth upwards, sucking on and nibbling on her labia, and ending with my lips sealed over her hooded clit. When correctly positioned, I pursed my lips and sucked in for all I was worth, causing her legs to tremble and a series of gasps and moans to be omitted, which she stifled with a pillow.

I could tell when she was getting near, so doubled down my efforts, lapping and sucking her clitoris, and adding a finger or two to seek her G-spot, which judging by the, “oh yes, right there!” exclamation I found.

When you find a winning combination, stick with it, they say. So I did. Moments later Sally arched her back, thrust her fanny hard into my face and convulsed in orgasm, screaming loudly into her pillow, and gushing into my mouth. I panicked that her noise would be heard throughout the house and waited for the door to be flung open and an irate father to drag me, cock still hanging out, into the street and beat the shit out of me. But it didn’t happen. Either nobody heard us, or they chose to ignore what was happening.

As Sally came down from her high, I moved from between her legs and lay back down beside her. She in turn rolled to her side, placed one leg across my thighs, her head on my chest and snuggled up to me. She made no attempt to cover herself and I could feel her damp pubes nestling my leg. It did not seem to matter to me that my hard dick was still waving in the air, it just seemed right not to expect Sal to wank me off, just because I had made her cum. I would have absolutely loved to have fucked her there and then but already knew that was not on the agenda. For once I was content to just cuddle up with her for a while, saving our subsequent move for the next time, hopefully in the right place to do the full dance with no pants.

As soon as I was able, I tucked myself back in my pants, at the same time pulling Sally’s skirt down to hide her semi-nudity. She did not object or protest, indicating to me she was content to call it a wrap there too. I lay with her, gently stroking her hair and started giving it the nodding dog syndrome. I must of dozed, but came to with a start when the auto-reverse on the radio cassette player restarted the Floyd for the third, or was it the fourth, time. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was well past 10pm. I didn’t want to outstay my welcome and piss off her parents, so I told Sal I thought it was time I was leaving her family in peace for the night. She agreed it was probably for the best, moved off me and I made ready to leave.

After a quick bathroom pit stop, to adjust my disheveled clothing, I took Sally’s hand as she accompanied me downstairs. The lounge door was open slightly, so we went in briefly, so I could thank mum and dad for their hospitality and bid them goodnight. Part off me still worried we’d been overheard, but there was absolutely no indication that was the case, and they pleasantly returned my goodbyes, adding we’ll see you again soon. I hoped that was the case. I did wonder if I’d be summoned to Sir’s office later for that bollocking or beating (metaphorical beating that is. I could have ended up with all sorts of shit duties as a reprisal), but that never happened. We’d got away with it.

We paused in the porch again to say our own good nights to each other. As we embraced and kissed, a thought went through me. I didn’t recall Sally putting her pants back on, was she still commando? Curiosity got the better of me, I just hads ‘t know. Reaching down I slid my hands up the back of her skirt, and bingo!, I encountered bare bum cheeks. She was still sans panties. I pinched her bum, making her giggle. Reaching round, I placed my hand on her mound and tickled her still damp lower lips. She let me get away with it for half a minute or so, then swatted my hand away. She gave me a final kiss on my lips and said “Next time, both of us, eh! Now go!”. She was right, I had to go, before my motor started up again.

Over the next few weeks, we found ourselves in that very familiar rut. We wanted sex, but with her living in the family home and me in a crowded barrack block, we had no comfortable venues for it. We had a couple of repeat performances in her bedroom, but there were always other family members present, so Sally would not go all the way. Neither would she entertain a quick shag in a dark corner somewhere, and I had to respect that. Then opportunity knocked in an unexpected way.

Sally was not working and her savings were dwindling and needed topping up. The festive party season was upon us, and she let it be known that she was available to babysit/childmind for party goers. She immediately got several bookings and mostly got the okay to ‘bring her boyfriend to keep her company’ when she asked, even though the householders must have known what we would use their couches for. (That’s undoubtedly why some refused permission. We often forgot our elders were young and horny once too.)

Our first joint session was in officer country. The home of a youngish junior RAF officer, with a three year old child. They were going to a formal mess function, and were not expected to be home until the early hours. When we arrived, junior had long since been in bed and asleep. They rarely woke during the night we were told, so our task was really just to be a responsible presence (???) in case of emergency. As they left, sir turned and gave me ‘the look’, saying ‘I’ve got your number son, not in my house you don’t’. But tough mate, we would.

At first, we were captivated by a novelty, a television. There was only a very limited service in Cyprus in 1975 and, of course, the vast majority of programming was in Greek. Hence most people didn’t bother with a TV. There were however a few English language or dubbed offerings. We got lucky and an English film was on, which we watched as we munched the supper we had been left. There was a couple of bottles of Keo in the fridge, next to our food. We weren’t certain if they were left for us, but we drank them anyway.

When the film finished, Sally went upstairs to use the bathroom and do a room check on our charge. I used the downstairs facilities and returned to the couch. Sal returned and reported all was quiet upstairs, the kid was fast asleep. She curled up beside me on the settee, with her head in my lap. I idly draped my arm across her body and grasped her upper arm. The TV program had changed to a Greek soap opera which, even with the English subtitles, was incomprehensible.

I soon got bored trying to decipher the family dramas being enacted on the screen. It was time to get the ball rolling anyway. Sally was wearing a stretchy long sleeve top, under a knitted waistcoat and her denim skirt again. I moved my hand from her arm, to caress the side of her left breast; and felt no bra. I knew for a fact she had been wearing one at the start of the evening, as I’d felt the strap as my arm was around her as we walked to the house. She must have divested herself of it when she used the bathroom. I groped more of her boob to be sure. She grinned up at me and told me it was now in her bag, in the hall, with her pants. A quick flip up of her skirt by me confirmed this, though she slapped my hand and pulled the hem back down again.

She rolled onto her back, head still in my lap bringing both of her tits within my grasp. I reached down with both hands and rubbed my palms over them, feeling the nipples stiffen and become visible through the material of her top, inviting me to roll them between my thumbs and forefingers, getting a soft groan from her. Reaching down I pulled at her tops and she sat upright, allowing me to remove both the waistcoat and top, exposing her glorious, pink tipped breasts to me, which I continued to tease as we roughly kissed and explored each others mouths.

Shifting her position again, Sally was able to unfasten and unzip my jeans, and like she had, I lifted to allow her to remove them, along with my underpants. I removed my own shirt too leaving me fully naked with her for the first time. My cock was already standing proud, when she started to pull me, whilst cupping and gently squeezing my bollocks with her other hand.

As was my, perhaps selfish, norm. I would let her wank me to a climax, in the hope of subsequently holding out longer when I finally got to penetrate her. It was not totally one sided though, as the lack of knickers gave me easy access to her vulva, and I was able to masturbate her too. After several minutes of this mutual stimulation, her convulsing thighs and frantic panting told me she had reached a small orgasm, tipping me over the edge too. I warned her I was about to cum, and she placed her second hand over the head of my penis, to prevent me shooting on the furniture. My spunk instead covered her palm and dripped onto my groin, matting in my pubic hair.

After a few minutes to catch our breaths, Sally dashed to the downstairs bog, tits bouncing freely, to wash my seed off and bought me back some tissue to clean myself up with. I wondered for a moment if that was going to be it, but before rejoining me on the couch, she stood before me, unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She too now was fully nude for the first time before me. She looked magnificent. her figure was really womanly. Heavy pink crowned breasts, narrowing to a flat midriff, before widening again to broad hips and large, but not fat, thighs.

I gestured for her to turn around, to which she did an exaggerated pirouette, with arms held over her head, ballerina style, all the time giggling at what she was doing. The rear view was as enticing as the front, but when she was facing me again, my gaze locked onto her crotch. Below her dark pubic bush, her body lips were prominently displayed, pink and inflamed from my earlier touch. They were parted slightly, exposing the damp rose coloured labia within.

I had to taste her again. From my seat on the couch, her sex was level with my face, so grasping her bum cheeks, I drew her towards me. I extended my tongue, and licked her slit from bottom to top, ending with my lips clamped over her clitoris. She growled and hissed like a cornered mountain lion as I started to circle her clit with my tongue and occasionally moved down to thrust it as far as I could into her vagina. She held my head, keeping my face firmly planted on her vulva and thrust her hips forward to further the contact. After several more minutes of my licking and sucking, her legs again started to tremble, as another ,orgasm spread throughout her body. Two for two. Unusually for me, I was on a winning streak tonight.

When her senses returned, Sally flopped onto the sofa again kissing and licking all around my mouth, apparently tasting her own secretions on my face. I found that really arousing, and my semi hardened to full mast, ready for its next round. The time had come for the much awaited consummation of our fledgling relationship. I retrieved my trousers from the floor and fumbled in the pocket for the Durex packet. When Sal saw this, she told me there was no need. Apparently UK law had changed sometime last year (1974) to allow single girls, over 18, to be prescribed The Pill, purely for contraception, not only for medical need, as was the case before that. Being sexually active (no surprise to me there), she had signed up straight away.

Okay, new territory for me here. This would be my first ‘bareback’ bang. My heart fluttered a little at the prospect and for some reason I suddenly felt very nervous too. All sorts of stupid shit went through my mind. Was the pill really safe. Had she remembered to take hers that day. What if…what if…what if!

For fuck sake Titus, grow up a voice told me. It’s safer than rubbers, which break and slip off easily. And you can trust her to use it as directed, it’s her that would get pregnant otherwise, not you. Just grow the fuck up and fuck the girl, like she wants.

Suitably chastised, by myself, I moved towards Sally. She had placed my folded shirt under her bum, to catch any leakage I guess, and positioned herself leaning back on the couch, with her open thighs right at the edge of the seat cushion, ready to take me in. Positioning my self between her legs, I leaned over her and advanced my aching penis to her opening, missing with the first shot. Sally took hold of me and guided me into her, then gently pulled me down, causing me to slide fully into her, still soaking wet, interior.

I don’t care what anyone says to the contrary. You CAN tell the difference between wearing a condom and not. That first feeling of a tight, wet, hot vagina, gripping my unsheathed penis was beyond anything I could have imagined. Some also say a woman’s mouth is an equal sensation. Nah! As wonderful as the oral act can be, there is, in my view, no real comparison.

Anyway, once I’d overcome the initial splendour of raw vaginal penetration, I started to move my cock in and out, and my motion was reciprocated. Our rhythm synchronised and the tempo slowly increased, as we fucked away. Despite my earlier emission, I knew I was not going to last long. Sally, it seemed, was still on the edge from the earlier cunnilingus, and I felt her twitch several times, with accompanying gasps and groans. She admitted later it was not full-blown orgasms, but was very pleasurable, none the less.

I held out as long as I could, but reached the point of no return. I warned Sally I was about to cum, to give her the opportunity to tell me to pull out, but she held my arse more firmly, and thrust her hips up at me even harder. With that, I ejaculated copiously, directly into a vagina for the first time in my life. The feel of my squirts triggered another ripple of pleasure in Sally too, judging by her groans and trembling thighs. I kept thrusting as long as I could, to allow her to get all she could out of the encounter.

Spent, I finally stopped my pumping, and collapsed into Sally’s arms. Quickly she pushed me off of her, cupped her hand over her vagina and dashed to the cloakroom again. Some minutes later, she returned to the lounge, this time wearing her knickers, retrieved from her bag, but still topless. To catch any seepage she told me. She was so practically minded, and practiced perhaps.

After half an hour or so of just hugging, gently touching and caressing each other, lost in our own thoughts (I hoped hers were as positive as mine), Sally suggested we should get dressed, just in case! It seemed a sound idea to me. Pulling my shirt back on, I noted a large damp patch on one side of it. I sincerely hoped it would dry sufficiently not to be noticeable when sir and his wife returned. Hopefully they would be too pissed and horny to worry, even if it was.

When fully dressed, Sal went to check on junior again. Still fast asleep and breathing deeply, thankfully. She then went to the kitchen and made us each a coffee, and we settled down to await their return, occasionally stealing a quick kiss or gentle touch, to let the other know we were still there.

At more or less the notified time. The householders came home. They were indeed very merry, but not falling down drunk. I was certain the room stank of our sex, but no comment was made, even if it registered. I excused myself to the cloakroom, for ‘one for the road’, and also to dispose of my soiled tissue, which I’d just found on the floor beside the couch, while Sally concluded her financial transaction (bless her, she offered me a cut of the fee for ‘helping her’, but of course I declined.)

As I walked her home, I desperately wanted to tell her that tonight had been the best sex I’d ever had, but did not know if that would have been a crass move, so remained stumm. We didn’t linger at the door that night. It was very late and there was no need for furtive fumbling, so we just said our goodbyes and I left to walk back to my block.

Sitting on babies provided our primary sex venue over that next couple of months. The festive season in particular was particularly fruitful. It was also a good earner for Sally, enabling her to recharge her coffers. The downside, if there actually was one, was that it meant I had to forsake several functions of my own, that I had expected to attend. But when you consider the choices were, fuck Sally or get pissed with the blokes, there was really no contest. We saw in the new year (1976) naked, in a bath together, after a particularly satisfying sex session, in someone else’s home. Sally’s idea of course.

We would still supplement our needs, with mutual masturbation and oral, in Sally’s bedroom between childminding tasks, or when I was refused permission to join her by the child’s parents. It did happen, and Sally would not entertain my ‘sneaking in’ on those occasions. We never did fuck in her own house. It sometimes baffled me that she would not do the dirty there, with her own family members in (even if mum and dad were out and only her sisters were home), but she was perfectly happy to get naked and fuck my brains out with other people’s kids not a million miles away?

February would see my 20th birthday, and the onus was on me to mark this milestone by funding a disco and curry supper in the unit club. I told Sally about this, and asked if she thought it might be a good idea to also make the event fancy dress, playfully suggesting we could go as Adam and Eve. She fell silent. I immediately knew something was up; normally she would slap me for a suggestion like that.

After a bit of prompting she opened up. She reminded me that part of her plan was to use Cyprus as a base to do some gap year travelling. She had now confirmed plans with a UK based former school friend, to take in several destinations over a three month period. They were to start in Egypt, where they would meet up and head out from there. She would be leaving before my birthday.

I was really pissed off that she had kept these arrangements from me til now. She claimed that she was leaving it until nearer the day, so as not to spoil what time we had left together. I had inadvertently fucked that idea up. Sally said she wanted things to carry on, as if she had said nothing, until she left, that she wouldn’t be gone for ever. But I pointed out that if she wanted to travel more extensively, she’d be off again soon, then when her gap year was over, she’d be off to uni, where she would be gone forever, as far as I was concerned.

No, much as I loved her and loved having sex with her, I could not pretend that everything was hunky dory and just plough on. I had known that she would be leaving Cyprus in the autumn, but was not prepared for this, right now. I told her I needed time to think things through, I’d talk to her the following day, and left without our customary embrace and kiss. I went straight to the bar and got thoroughly pissed.

Come the cold light of the following day, hangover notwithstanding, I had made my decision. I was going to dump Sally. That would be another new first for me, one I never thought would happen. I met up with her later, as arranged, and laid my cards on the table. If we hung it out until the bitter end it would be purely for the sake of sex. And as fantastic as that was, it was not really a good idea, it would just be mechanical fucking. In my opinion it would be easier on us both if we just ended things there. (I know what you’re thinking…mechanical fucking is good fucking too, you may be right.)

She cried, I teared up and my resolve nearly cracked. But I stood firm. I had no previous experience of being the ‘dumper’ and didn’t know how to do it. So I simply hugged her tightly for half a minute, kissed her on the cheek, turned and walked away, not looking back. A shity way to dump someone? Probably, but what is a good way?

I was like the proverbial bear with a sore head for the next few weeks. I drank far too much, even considered another trip to that premises off Heroes Square, but knew that was just rebound lust, and forgot that stupid idea. I purposely avoided putting myself in situations where I might meet Sally, until I knew she had left on her travels.

Despite what had happened, I could not hate Sally. We’d had great fun and great sex together, and in retrospect, I think I probably had actually fallen in love with her. But we were both still young, and life must go on (well, until you’re told by your doctor it won’t go on much longer, at least!). I truly hoped she would have fantastic experiences, and perhaps fantastic sex too, on her travels and fulfil her ambition to become a doctor.

They say “When one door closes, another door opens.” For me, for once, that would be true. I just had to wait a few more weeks until…well that’s another story.

To Be Continued..