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First/vickie01
Solitaire
Vickie - 1
DEDICATION
The events recounted take place in a small Southern city, too large
for everyone to know what everyone else did, but small enough that each
person's reputation was common knowledge.
The time is the mid-1950's, a golden age in America. Before
Vietnam and after the Second World War, having just concluded the
"police action" in Korea. An age of sexual innocence before the PILL,
but also before AIDS. An era when teenagers searched for identity in
an ever changing world. The 60's were right around the corner and some
freedoms and values were even then being challenged. But, for the most
part, we held the same values as our parents had a generation before.
This, then is the story of my own personal journey to sexual
manhood. My teacher was a thin, beautiful waif who had already learned
the joys of her own body and was willing to share the knoweldge with
me, a 16 year old, gangly teenager with more hormones than sense, more
desires than fulfillment.
This series is dedicated to Virginia T., the girl who first taught
me the joys of sex, lust, and love. In our few short weeks together
she showed me pleasures and sensuality I had never experienced.
Vickie, this is for you. Even after all these years I remember as
clearly as if it was yesterday your sweet kisses, your soft touch, and
your exciting aroma as we explored the depths of lust in the backseat
of a 1950 flathead Ford V8.
Solitaire
My First Experience
I remember it as if it were yesterday, even thought it took place
nearly a third of a century ago. It was my 16th birthday, and I had
just purchased a 1950 Ford with the money I earned as a caddy at the
golf club. One of my best friends decided that, in honor of my
birthday, he would introduce me to a girl "who did it", an acquaintance
of his younger brother. Unlike today's sexual freedom, the age before
"THE PILL" included two types of girls: those who were "nice" girls,
those who would pet and neck and turn your balls blue but who wouldn't
permit any touching below the waist; and those girls "who did it",
whether they actually fucked or not. The mere act of getting a "stinky
finger" was sufficient grounds to classify her as "one of them." Since
we usually double-dated in the days before we could get our own
license, if your buddy got a quick feel, he shared the smell with all
his buddies at the drive-in and the girl got her new reputation as "one
who does."
We drove to another section of town, an area of plain wooden houses
with small yards and older cars. Parking in front of a white clapboard
house with green shutters, my friend went to the door and talked to a
small woman who answered the door. Pretty soon a small, thin girl
appeared on the stoop and my friend talked with her for a few minutes
before walking back to the car with her. In those days, cars had a
bench seat, so there was enough room for all three of us in the front,
so she sat between us as we were introduced. Her name was (probably
still is) Vickie, short for Virginia, although she really wasn't a
"Virgin Queen." She was about 5 foot 2 inches tall and probably didn't
weigh more than 90 pounds. Her long dark hair hung in a pony tail with
bangs that nearly covered her large, dark eyes. I remember her eyes.
They were soulful and sad, yet they could sparkle and laugh when she
was excited. Her breasts (which I found out later were "A" cups)
barely poked the front of her white blouse and her arms were painfully
thin. Her legs were hidden under the calf-length skirt as she pulled
them onto the seat and sat on them. As we sat there, I could smell the
sweet scent of her perfume mixed with strange, lustful aromas that I
later discovered were from her pussy.
I drove to the drive-in so we could celebrate my birthday. The
Ford had a column shift, and as I drove, I managed to let my elbow
press against those exciting little bulges beneath her blouse, causing
an erection that painfully inched down the leg of my jeans. Everyone
had a "suicide knob" (a knob screwed to the steering wheel for one-
handed control that, if it broke off in a sharp curve, would cause a
"suicide"), so I could let my arm rest against her chest as I drove
with one hand. I found a spot in the back and, after backing in so we
could see everyone else, we all three celebrated with hamburgers and a
milk shake.
In those days, our big excitement was "cruising the drive-ins".
There were three drive-ins and we would drive from one to another,
circling the parking lot, and then drive on to the next. A station
wagon full of girls from my high school pulled into the lot, and my
friend jumped out to go talk to them, leaving me with Vickie. I found
out that she was in the eighth grade even though she was also 16 since
she had been held back because her father was transferred so often in
the military. He had died a few years ago, and Vickie and her mother
moved here because of her family and because she could get a job as a
nurse's assistant. After about 10 minutes of conversation, Vickie
turned to me and asked me if I wanted to kiss her. After stammering an
affirmative reply, she turned on the seat so she was facing the back
and put her arms around my neck, raising her face to be kissed.
I had had some experience in kissing since that's really all the
"nice girls" would allow, so I opened my lips and met her open mouth
with my tongue, slipping it in her mouth as she relaxed against me.
For the next three or four minutes we continued the kiss, my arms
around her slim body and her arms around my neck. Finally Vickie
pulled back, resting in my arms as she told me that I was a good
kisser. She took both her hands and reached down to grasp my right
wrist and pull my hand to her face. She kissed my palm and told me
that I had strong life lines (I later found out that her grandmother
had been a gypsy fortune teller) and that my sex line was slightly out
of kilter. She pulled my hand down to her chest, pressing my palm
against the slight rise of her left breast encased in a bra and her
blouse. She pulled my hand tighter against her and began to rub it
around in a circular motion while her lips pursed as if in a kiss.
"Do you like that," she asked as my cock, already raging from her
closeness in the car, was now uncomfortably constricted by my jocky
shorts. I couldn't say a word, so I simply nodded. "Let's get out of
here and go to the park," she said as she closed her eyes and pressed
my palm even tighter against her breast.
"But Davis won't have any way to get home." I protested as she
turned in the seat so she could see him sitting in a car with 4 girls.
"I don't think he'll have any trouble," she said, "and besides,
since tonight is a school night, he promised my mother that I'd be in
by ten, and it's just a little after nine now."
As I started the car, she turned back around so she was facing the
dashboard, pulling my right arm around her shoulder so my fingers could
just reach the top of her bra-encased breast. In those days, with the
stick shifts instead of automatic transmissions, teenagers quickly
learned how to shift using the boy's foot on the clutch and the girl's
hands on the shift lever. She got us in first gear as I started the
car, hearing Davis' loud protestations (for show, I'm sure) as I sped
out of the parking lot, leaving rubber trails where the powerful
flathead eight over-revved the tires.
As I pulled onto the main road, I saw lights behind me as Davis and
the girls were trying to follow us. Vickie saw what was happening and
pulled my arm from her shoulders to give me complete control of the
car, although she continued to clasp my arm with her hands. The 1950
Ford was a race car disguised as a family car. Its balance and
suspension were such that it could take corners at nearly full speed
without sliding. It was only a few minutes work to completely lose the
pursuit, so I slowed back to the speed limit. As we continued toward
the park, I could see Vickie's eyes illuminated by the street lights.
Where they had been sad and soulful before, now they sparkled with
excitement.
"Can you always drive that fast?" she questioned as I continued my
leisurely pace.
"Of course!" I replied, almost indignant that she would question my
ability.
"Then let's go. I want to get to the park as fast as possible and
I want you to drive as fast as this car will go."
My speedometer read 110 miles per hour, but I doubt that it was
that accurate. Fortunately none of the city police were between the
drive-in and the park, so we arrived in record time, my tires squealing
their protests as I took the curved roads in the park at full speed,
heading for the back of the lake.
When I finally pulled off the road into the parking lot by the lake
(the spot where we all went for the submarine races), her breath was
coming in pants just as if she had run all the way there. She twisted
in the seat again and plastered her mouth on mine, smearing her
lipstick and saliva all around my mouth as she moaned my name. My
hands were loosely on her waist, so she reached down and pulled them up
to her breasts again. This time I pressed my hands into her chest of
my own accord.
I felt her teeth capture my tongue and hold it as she mumbled
something. She bit harder and mumbled again, but this time I
understood enough to reach for her buttons which I quickly undid to her
waist, sliding my hands inside to touch her bra-covered tits. The skin
above the bra was warm and soft, yielding to the pressure of my
fingertips while the bra material, made of white cotton, was harsh and
rough against my palms.
I continued to caress her breasts through the bra, and I thought I
could feel her nipples but the bra was too thick to be sure. I slid my
hands around to her back to find the hooks of the bra, but they weren't
there!
She pulled back and giggled, "It hooks in the front," as she
reached down between her breasts and unhooked the bra, letting it hang
loosely over her breasts.
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"Now you can touch me all over."
As I slid my hands under her bra, I could feel her hot breath on my
ear as her tongue slid wetly into its canal, wetly licking and sucking
as I caressed her breasts. I could fit each of her breasts into the
palm of a hand, and my fingers could stroke the skin around it. Her
breasts were very firm, even though small, and they didn't yield much
as I pressed. Her nipples were like hard rosebuds poking into my
hands, and they moved like reeds in the wind as my hands continued
their circular caresses.
"Pull them gently," she whispered into my ear as I felt her hand
slide down my chest to my groin, her hot fingers clasping my erection
through my jeans. I gently pulled on each nipple with thumb and
forefinger, but her breast was so firm that it didn't budge very much.
I squeezed a little more firmly and began to pull it, causing her
breasts to distort slightly as they formed cones of pleasure. "Now
twist them while you pull," she instructed as I began to use my
fingertips to twist her nipples like I was tuning a radio. "Oh God,
that makes me so hot. Put your mouth on one and kiss it," she said as
she raised up on her knees, her head bumping the headliner as she
clasped my head to her chest.
Up until that moment, I had never been any further than touching
bra encased breasts and, only once before, a firm, responsive nipple
for an instant before the girl, horrified that she might lose her
reputation, pulled my hand from under her sweater. I could feel the
nipple poking at my lips, slippery from the residue of saliva which
coated my chin. Opening my lips only slightly, I felt the hard nubbin
poke inside and I covered my teeth with my lips and grasped it gently
as I heard her breath inhaled in a sharp gasp as her hand grasped my
cock tightly through the thick denim.
"Suck me! Lick me!" Her words ran together in a cadence as they
became one long litany as my teeth twisted her nipple back and forth,
pulling her nipple through my closed lips. Finally she clasped my head
tightly to her chest, nearly smothering me as she wailed and I smelled
her aroma penetrating the car.
"Oh yes, that was good. I love having my nipples sucked and
licked," she said, pushing slightly back so that her eyes were locked
on mine. I stuck out my tongue and licked the erect little bud,
feeling its strength and firmness as it bent before my inquisitive
lips.
As I continued my oral ministrations, she reached down and pulled
her skirt from under her knees, making it a tent on the seat of my car.
She pulled back and sat on her haunches, her knees spread slightly for
balance as she took my hand in both of hers, my regret that she wasn't
touching my prick anymore. She used one hand to pull her skirt nearly
to her waist, and I could see the white glimmer of panties in the
darkness beneath the skirt. She moved my hand to her knee and leaned
forward to kiss me sweetly on the lips as, with her motion, my hand was
forced half-way up her thigh. I could feel real heat emanating from
above as I slide my hand up her thigh until it came in contact with her
panties, now sopping with her cunt juices. I slid my finger back and
forth along the leg band of her panties, feeling the softness of her
skin, the crinklyness of her pubic hair, and the wetness of her pussy.
As I slipped my finger under the leg opening, her hand reclasped my
cock, rubbing it somewhat ineffectively through the heavy cloth. I
felt something wonderful. Smooth and slippery. Wet and hot. It
enclosed my finger as I slid it back and forth, feeling a real pussy
for the first time ever in my life. As I slipped my whole hand under
the leg band and felt the wholeness of her pussy, the firm smooth skin
of her outer lips and the wonderful warmth and wetness of her inner
lips, I felt her hand unzip my Levis, sliding inside toward my cock.
I had to raise up on the seat since my position was too
uncomfortable with her hand stuffed into the already tightness of my
pants. My fingers worked back and forth within the confinements of her
cotton panties as my middle finger crooked and slid up into her vagina,
the smooth and tender walls clutching at my digit as it slid easily
into her. She gasped my name as I felt the increase in moisture as my
palm easily massaged her inner lips as my hand moved back and forth,
driving my finger in her pussy. Her fingers finally found my cock and
she clasped her fingers around its hardness, caressing the tubular
muscle through the cotton of my shorts.
"Use two fingers," she moaned, her voice now starting to rise in
pitch as she began to whine, begging for release. I inserted two and
then three fingers inside her, her pussy walls expanding to accommodate
the increased volume. I marveled at how smooth and slippery she was
inside. I could feel a hard ring at the end of her cunt as my fingers
poked into her cervix, but the rest of her pussy was soft and yielding,
giving and taking, sucking and clasping as I continued my manual
stimulation until, with a moan, she mashed her mouth on mine and her
body began to spasm, her hips jerking back and forth like a jackhammer,
forcing my fingers deeper and deeper into her sweet moistness. She
continued to moan my name as she came, her body wracked with the
pleasure of release.
Finally, after minutes that seemed like hours, she collapsed,
trapping my hand in her pussy as her legs gave way and she sat on my
wrist. "Oh Dam'n. That was great. I haven't cum like that in months.
But what about you? You didn't cum yet. Do you want me to make you
cum? You're going to have to push those jeans down since I can't get
to you. And next time, don't wear shorts, just let it hang there
waiting for me."
I pushed my jeans to my knees, dragging my shorts with them, my
prick now standing proudly up my stomach as she placed her cool hand
gently on its base and massaged my balls with the heel of her hand.
She put one hand on the top and began to rub my cock head while her
other hand massaged up and down the erect shaft, drawing moans from my
throat as the sensations overtook me and I erupted into her hand,
coating her fingers with my slippery white love juices and increasing
the pleasure of the masturbation many-fold. My hips jerked
involuntarily as I alternately tried to get away and then get back for
more stimulation, the cum running down into my pubic hairs and dripping
on my balls. The tickling sensation as her palm slid easily over my
cock head was too much for me, and I had to grab her wrist to pull her
hand away.
She giggled into my ear and asked me if I liked that, her other
hand, coated with the overflow from my cock, sliding up and down
easily, giving me sensations that I only felt when I masturbated in the
privacy of my bed. Her hand slipped up so she grabbed my cock head
again, squeezing so it was milked in her slippery fingers, and I moaned
again. I had never tried that, and it felt wonderful! My erection,
once starting to flag, now reversed and my cock stood proudly at
attention as her hands continued their milking action, now joined by
the other hand on my balls, gently caressing them and massaging them.
I started frantically shoving my fingers back up inside her warm, wet
cavern, drawing a moan of pleasure as she leaned forward again to
plaster her mouth on mine.
"Oh, you're getting hard again. Would you like me to make you cum
again? Would you like me to use my hands to rub your big, strong cock
so that it spurts on my fingers again? Does this feel good," she
questioned as her other hand, slippery with my previous cum, slid
around the head of my prick like it was oiled, the tickling sensations
nearly driving me out of my mind. My whole being was concentrated in
those seven inches of muscle as I felt her fingers sliding easily up
and down my shaft as her other hand rubbed the head, giving me
sensations that I had never felt before.
Our hands seemed to separate from our bodies. I could feel the
wetness of her pussy increasing as I worked it to a lather, my three
fingers siding up inside her until my knuckles were encased inside her
soft inner lips. I rotated my hand, trying to give her as much
pleasure as I was receiving as her hands, slippery with the previous
orgasm, jerked up and down on my cock, both hands now concentrating at
the top of the shaft and caressing the sensitive head until the
tickling brought me to the top for the second time, my sperm blasting
out again to cover her knowledgeable fingers.
At the same time, I felt my hand getting drenched with the flood of
juices from her cunt as she threw her head back, her eyes closed as she
gave herself over to the pleasures of her climax. I was so
inexperienced that I really thought that she had pissed on my hand. It
wasn't until I could smell it later, when I was alone, that I realized
that she had cum, letting her sweet sex juices flow as she reached her
zenith, her cunt walls clutching at my fingers. I remember the
clasping feeling of her vaginal muscles rhythmically squeezing my
fingers as her orgasm flowed through her body.
Giggling, she leaned forward and kissed me sweetly, saying, "Boy,
you were really ready. You came a ton. I haven't felt that much that
soon ever. You must have been saving all that for me."
After we dressed, I drove her home, nearly missing her curfew, but
being rewarded with another kiss, quick feel of her tits, and a promise
of another date the next Saturday night. But that story will have to
wait until the next chapter. Needless to say, I smelled my "stinky
fingers" all the way home, but I never told anyone (especially Davis)
what had happened. In fact, since I continued to deny it, the story
got around that I fucked her on the first date, and she got pissed
until I convinced her that I hadn't told anyone and that I had, in
fact, denied anything at all. After she checked and found out that I
was telling the truth, she agreed to keep our Saturday date.
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