Remember James?

Okay, coming clean time. Like it says in the title, remember James? Sure you do. He's the kid I had sex with in the basement of the theater I was working at. Several times. James isn't his real name, of course, nor, I would imagine, is 18 his real age, but I have assumed it is.

So I met him again, randomly, in the store. This was actually several weeks ago. And, well... let's not get ahead of ourselves.

He was there buying party supplies (for a party, I assume, although maybe he just wanted to feel special) and we saw each other down the aisle as I was going toward the produce section. I probably should have just kept right on walking, maybe given him a wave. After all, it's not my policy to torment teenagers, at least not if they don't deserve it. But I stopped and walked over and said hi.

He was less shy than I expected. Actually, I was worried at first that his parents might be with him. We made small talk for a while, which is how I know he was buying party supplies. But I could see that his pants monster was getting hungry for meat, and I'm sure the fact that I wasn't in work clothes, but rather in a dress and tank top (damn this hot weather recently) had something to do with it. And I was probably putting out my share of pheromones because it had been a long day without any loving.

So... God, I gave him my number. I do not date teenagers! To be fair, he gave me his number too, and this was all couched in the fantasy that it was job-related. Job-related my ass. More like ass-related my job.

Like I said, this was several weeks ago. He called me that night, it was like being back in high school again. He said his parents were going out of town that weekend and did I want to come by? I should have said no, of course not, what kind of girl do you think I am, except that would have been a lie. Truth is, I was more than happy to go to his house, but I made him promise that no one would be there.

That Saturday I showed up at his door in the afternoon. He was so cute, nervous as the first time we'd made out. He wanted a date, but I just told him to show me to the bedroom. He was trying to offer me drinks from his parents' liquor cabinet, tried to take one himself, but I told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't interested in anything but him.

I think he didn't want me to see his bedroom. It was a little messy (which didn't bother me at all, because my room is a disaster area most of the time; I'm a cluttered person) and probably had some embarrassing things in it which I could have found if I had been interested in looking. As it was I sat him down on the bed and started taking off clothes. Sometimes when I'm settling into an expected long evening, I like to start slow, lots of kissing and foreplay and teasing, but this time I was just raring to go, and I knew he would be too.

Being somewhere where there was space to move around, where we didn't have to be quiet, was different from the other times, obviously. I just let the clothes fall where they wanted, and obviously I wasn't in my work clothes either. I did linger a little in my underwear, which I'd picked out specially for the occasion, a nice matching set, bra and bikini panties, both lavender. He liked them, I could tell, but I guess he would have liked me in anything except a chastity belt.

He got the idea once I was almost naked and pulled off his shirt too. I helped him down with his jeans and those cute little tighty whiteys again, and his cock sprang to attention. Since we had plenty of time and the floor wasn't nasty and basement, I got to my knees and his eyes lit up. I don't know why some guys seem to find getting head more erotic than fucking, but James must have been one of those guys. So I gave him head like I'm sure he's never had before or since. It didn't take him long to blow his load, and I let him jack off into my open mouth, then swallowed it all.

"Now would you like to try?" I asked him, because if I was going to be his teacher then he should really learn how to please a woman. He would have done anything by then; his cock was already getting hard again. I lay back on the bed and let him climb up with me and kiss me, then gave him hints on tongue technique as he worked his way slowly down my body. I let him stay a long time suckling at my breasts, then nudged him down. He was a little impatient; only concentrated on my tits and pussy really, but I'll forgive that.

Once he was between my legs he was lost, so I told him to finger me, since that was something he was good at, and I let him feel good by giving him a slightly enhanced reaction, shall we say. That built his confidence and he finally gingerly began kissing just above my pubis on the bone atop my clit. I guided him lower and gave him pointers, and I guess he wasn't turned off by the taste or smell. Actually, I've only known a few guys who were, but the first time is supposed to be an acquired taste. Me, I loved it, just like I loved the taste of spunk. But that's another story.

I boosted his ego by reacting some more until he lifted his head up and asked me if I had cum. I lied, no harm in a little ego, and to tell the truth, for a beginner he wasn't bad. We'll have to work on it though. Oops, getting ahead of myself. He was raring to go, so I reached into my purse, handed him a condom, and lay back and let him practice. He mounted me much more skillfully than our first time, and his thrusting was much less panicky. I wonder if he had practiced with someone else since then. I don't know though, nor do I really care.

His stamina is something he'll need to work on, because even after cumming just recently he didn't take very long, but again, I can forgive that. He improved as the evening went on. Once he came and collapsed on my chest and asked me nervously if I had come too, I smiled and just kissed him. We lay like that in his bed for a few minutes, then he asked me if I needed anything to drink now. Don't flatter yourself, you little pischer.

We got sort of dressed again; he pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt and I got my panties and borrowed a t-shirt from him. Then we scared up some snacks (no alcohol for us, though, because... well, just because) and watched a movie. I don't know why I didn't just call it a day and go home; like I said, I don't date teenagers. But it was turning into a date. Halfway through the movie he kissed me, and we started making out on the couch. When he got his hand down the back of my panties again I laughed and told him we needed to go back upstairs. He wanted to mess around on the couch, but my Spidey sense told me that just in case someone came in, it would be better not to be there.

So upstairs we went, giggling all the way. He was naked before I was, and he asked me if I would let him take me from behind again. I could get used to being asked like that. And about that. The condom came on, the penetration was achieved. He lasted a while longer, and the orgasm I had wasn't faked, although I had to help myself a little. Once he came I cleaned him off, we chucked the second dead soldier and went back to the movie and snacks.

And... well, the afternoon turned into evening. I had microwave burritos with him. We played cards. I let him spend a good long time just feeling me up, me sitting in his lap, until I could feel his hardon almost exploding against my butt. So I pulled his pants down, pulled my panties out of the way, and ignored my Spidey sense. He pushed up into me in his lap, and when he started to try to thrust I told him to just keep playing with me. I wanted to teach him a little patience. I realized I'd never put a condom on him, but I just decided it didn't matter. So we sat, almost still, as the time drifted by, with him working with his hands at the front of my pussy, getting my clit to come out and play, with a little help from me. Every few seconds he would just shift his hips slightly and his cock would surge a little deeper into me and then retract again.

That way, he lasted through two of my orgasms, and we were probably "fucking" for almost an hour. He came inside me, and all that waiting and pressure brought a lot of his little boys out to play, because I could feel them. He didn't even realize what he'd done until I got up to clean him off and caught the spunk dripping out of me and swallowed it too. His eyes got a little bigger and I just smiled and said we had been naughty and that I had really only been insisting on condoms for his sake, because I wasn't worried. That perked him up.

Once we cleaned off the couch (thank God for fake leather, otherwise there would have been stains) I looked at the clock and realized how late it was and was torn. And then... well, I spent the night. I know, I know. We cuddled and watched another movie. Then he was offering to set up the guest bedroom, and I just told him I was sleeping with him. It wasn't that late for either of us, but we went back up to his room and stripped down again and just got in bed and started making out again, slowly. I could have been perfectly happy to let him rest, but he was insatiable. And I must admit, the amount of attention the girls were getting was going to my head. He just couldn't get enough of sucking them.

Eventually after what seemed like a very long time I asked him to finger me because I was getting very hot and bothered. And I didn't have to overreact this time; he's actually quite good with his hands. I had a nice O and then climbed on top of him and rode him so he could spend all the time he wanted suckling at my tits. We didn't bother with a condom again, but this time it was a conscious decision on my part; I wanted to feel him cum inside me again.

He wasn't long, and I almost groaned with frustration when he tensed up because I was just so close. But I let him have it. He must have had to change his sheets the next day. He fell asleep almost immediately, which isn't that surprising really. I lay beside him and diddled quietly to take the pressure off, then I snuggled up to him and fell asleep too. It was actually very nice to share my bed with someone (or rather someone's bed with them).

We both slept in, but I was up once in the middle of the night because he stole all the covers. It's his bed and he's not used to sharing it. In the morning, or rather the early afternoon, we both woke up and took advantage of morning wood to fuck again. The youthfulness of him... it's a real energizer. We spooned, and it was a lot more awkward than it should have been, and eventually I told him to get up and take a shower with me. He was getting used to being naked around me; didn't seem shy at all any more. We showered and finished the fucking.

I had a speech all prepared about how this was still just a casual thing and that I didn't think we could do it again and no one should know, but I didn't give it. After I dressed again in clothes that smelled vaguely of sex I just kissed him, gathered up my stuff, and left.

And so I've been doing this for weeks now. Actually, I've been having him over too. Obviously his parents aren't out of town all the time. My parents won't judge; he hasn't met them because that's just too much like dating. But we have been on some dates. We've been to places. We've watched some movies at home. I'm such a reprobate. And every time I get up the nerve to tell him we have to end it, that we can't keep doing it, I just don't. I don't know how much longer this can last, though.