Rose proves to be an extremely quick and insatiable study
The following night we skipped the movies, the drive-in, the miniature golf, and everything else, driving straight to the beach with a few rods, reels, and other equipment tucked safely in the truck’s bed. There were a few other couples and even a few fishermen there in the fading light, but we ignored them, walking more than a quarter mile from the parking lot. I spread the blanket, prepped the rods even going so far as to cast deep into the water. A set of sand spikes held the rods vertical when we lay down to a lengthy make-out session.
Rose and I were all over each other. No longer were we reluctant to hold or touch each other. My hands roamed her body, stopping at each breast and nipple before reaching down into her shorts to her gushing pussy. Rose laughed, “I think my face and my pussy are even wetter than they were last night.” I joined her laughter as I slowly wiped the spit from both our faces. I’d leave the nectar for later.
Once it was dark we had the beach to ourselves. I began to slowly remove her clothes—her top, bra, shorts, and panties. Rose removed my shirt, shorts, and briefs. We lay together chest to chest on the rough blanket. I broke our kiss to move my lips and mouth down her body, around each of those breasts I adored to her sensitive navel. My tongue tickled her here until she screamed, “Uncle!” Finally, I reached my objective, climbing between her legs. The broad surface of my tongue cleaned her of juice all the way from her anus to her clit. I repeated several times until her labia were red and enflamed with her desire. I shifted my attention to her tunnel. In and out—I fucked her with the most amazing tenderness and love. Rose reacted wildly, thrashing back and forth across the blanket.
I kept at her for more than ten minutes before making my final move to her clit. Sucking it between my teeth brought her to the sweetest, the most exquisite orgasm. It continued as long as I worried her sensitive bud. Eventually, I took mercy on her and stopped. I climbed back up her body to hold her and caress her head to my chest. It was almost a half hour later that she returned to normal. “Oh God, Paul…I thought last night was intense, but it was nothing in comparison to tonight. It began when your tongue was inside me and it never stopped.” She looked at my face several times and from several angles in the light of the gibbous moon. “Paul…what’s that all over your face?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “It’s you, Rose—your ejaculate. I remember reading something in the Playboy Advisor a few months ago. It’s called ‘squirting.’”
“Oh no—did I pee on you? I’m so sorry, Paul.”
“Don’t worry, Rose—you didn’t. It doesn’t smell anything like urine. In fact, I love the way it…you…taste. All I know is that one second I was noshing on your clit and the next I was swimming. It tastes like your juice—you know--that stuff that seems to run down your legs whenever we’re together.”
“I’m kinda partial to that stuff that runs down YOUR legs and I’m going to see that as soon as I recover. Do you think those Playboy letters are real, Paul?”
“Who knows? I’d guess that some of them are, but I think that it’s the answers that have to be real even if the letters aren’t.”
Rose rested for almost a half hour. I didn’t mind. I got to hold her and experience the touch of her sensational smooth skin against mine. I loved when she rubbed her hard nipples against my hairy chest. She began by kissing my neck then kissing her way down my body, stopping once she had reached my hard cock.
Several of my friends had bragged about measuring their penises, but not me. I didn’t care how long it was, especially since Katrina had told me it was girth—thickness—that was important. Katrina had moved with her family from Gstadt, Germany. She was a year older than me and she was…well, let’s just say she was sexually advanced. She took my virginity when I was fourteen. She claimed to have had sex with more than a dozen men ranging from me at fourteen to her mailman at thirty-one. I had been thrilled when she told me I was much thicker than any of the others. She had moved on to Indiana before I realized how much I loved Rose. I did begin to take notice of the other guys in the showers after football practice and I did think that I compared favorably with all of them. Now I’d use it to make Rose happy. Somehow, that seemed perfect.
She began by licking all around my balls then up the sensitive underside of my organ. Once around the head was but a prelude to trying to swallow it whole. It was a great idea, but it was clear that Rose would have to practice quite a bit to reach that goal. I was happy when she made it half-way. She used her tongue to force my cock up and into the roof of her mouth. She had done it for only five minutes before I felt that old familiar churning. “Rose!” I tried to warn her, but she paid me no heed. My hips bucked as I spurted over and over into her mouth and throat. She kept on sucking, but semen poured from the corners of her mouth, running down to her breasts and abdomen. She took one look down and broke out laughing. Luckily, she had released my cock first.
“I think I need more practice at that—lots and lots of practice.” She laughed and I joined her a second later.
“I’ll buy that, especially the ‘lots and lots’ part. I’ll be happy to practice my part, too.” We laughed again as I pulled her up for another kiss, my semen smearing between our bodies. I wasn’t worried. I’d come prepared with a gallon of water in my truck and several towels in the bucket by the fishing rods.
We had hugged each other for almost a half hour when Rose sat up suddenly. “Paul, why haven’t you gotten any bites? Isn’t that unusual?”
“Not really; if one wants to catch fish it’s usually necessary to use some bait. I want to go next weekend. The blacks usually come in around Memorial Day weekend. Want to come with me?”
I was wiping her chest clean when she responded. We laid out our plans while we rested. Before leaving we tried to “69.” It was just as incredible as our earlier oral attempts. Rose squirted all over my face and a fair portion of my semen escaped Rose’s mouth, running down my legs to the blanket. We picked up the area and walked back to the truck naked where I washed Rose’s body and she washed mine. I dropped her off just before one and drove home where I fell asleep almost immediately.
The following weekend—Memorial Day—marked the opening of the summer season. It was also the beginning of the fishing season and the time we’d set to take Rose’s virginity. Now that we were naked Rose pulled me down to the blanket with her. It was clean and soft. I’d had a difficult time explaining to my mother why it needed fabric softener when it’s only for the beach. When I told her that Rose had complained about it the discussion ended. Mom loved Rose—had ever since we’d met more than ten years ago.
Now Rose lay back on the soft blanket. We kissed and touched each other. She found me hard; I found her wet. I showed her how to apply the condom to my organ and climbed between her legs. I could tell that she was eager. She pulled me to her, wrapped her legs around my waist, and placed my cock at the entrance to her womanhood. “Now Paul; please do it now. I love you, Paul. Please make us one.” We’d spoken about it so many times. She knew it would hurt at first so I moved into her slowly…easily. I loved the expression on her face as her pussy adjusted to my girth. I pushed until I met the inevitable resistance. “Do it, Paul—just a few minutes hurt for a lifetime of pleasure with you.” I plunged forward, stopping immediately to comfort my love.
I wiped the tears from her cheeks with my kisses as I caressed her head, running my fingers through her silken hair. It was only five minutes later that she told me, “Do it, Paul. Do me!” I did, pushing all the way into her, until our pubic hairs meshed. The look on Rose’s face was one of pure ecstasy as she began to move with me. She met my every thrust with one of her own. I was so caught up with what I was doing that I had failed to notice the moans of pleasure coming from Rose’s mouth. Now that we were fucking hard and fast those moans had grown into groans and then grunts.
She was moving like a wild animal when I heard her scream. It was followed by a flood onto my abdomen. Seconds later the condom was flooded with sperm as I pumped into Rose with incredible force. I collapsed onto her chest, leaning down to kiss and caress her face.
I moved back up about a minute later and our eyes met. “Well?”
Rose’s response was to pull me back down into a long, wet, and extremely passionate kiss with her tongue plunging into my mouth. She broke it some minutes later. “Paul…oh, Paul it was incredible. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I came.”
“How many? What do you mean?”
“I had my first orgasm about twenty seconds after you entered me. Then I had another and another and another. They were coming so fast that they all blended into one huge explosion. That’s when I screamed.”
“That’s not all you did.” Give me your hand. I pulled out of her and brought her hand to my abdomen. Even in the pale moonlight I could see how startled she was.
“Is that me again? Did I…what was the word you used?”
“You mean…squirt? Ha. Ha. It was more like a flood.” Don’t be embarrassed. I loved it. I loved knowing that you enjoyed making love with me.”
“I didn’t enjoy it. I loved every second, even the part that hurt. I know now that I’m a real woman.”
I laughed again. “I never had a doubt. I’ve always thought of you as the ultimate….”
“Yeah,” Rose interrupted, “but you’re in love with me…hardly an unbiased resource. I’m sorry I made a mess of you.”
“I’m not; you can do that to me any time you want…on any part of my body you want. Now, let me clean us up a bit and rest. Then we can try it again…maybe in a different position.” I finished wiping her abdomen, removed the condom and buried it in the sand, and finished with my abdomen. I lay back with Rose astride my body to rest.
“What are you doing tomorrow,” Rose whispered.
“I have to work most of the day. I have Mr. Gentile and Mr. Kane. I’m not looking forward to dealing with him. He demands good service, but he never wants to pay. Maybe I’ll dump him and spend the time at Mr. Gentile’s. He wants me to do his beds as well as his lawn. Other than those two jobs I have the weekend free to spend with you.”
“Don’t forget the cookout we’re having Sunday after church.”
“I’ll never forget a chance to spend the entire day with you.”
“I know that, but don’t forget that Eric and my parents will be there too and, of course, your parents and Mary.” Rose may have been talking, but her body was moving all over mine. After thirty minutes I was hard and ready to go again. I gave Rose one of the condoms. She rolled it down my shaft and then, following my instructions to the letter, sat on me—my organ disappearing into her body. It was incredible watching me enter and disappear into her. Rose began to rock forward and back in time with my thrusts. We continued moving together while I massaged her tender breast tissue and rolled her sensitive nipples between my fingers. It wasn’t long before an orgasm hit. I say “an orgasm” because it was obvious from my vantage point that she experienced at least eight and each one only served to increase the rapture she was experiencing. Finally, just before I was ready she arched her back severely and screamed into the night. Rose fell rather than collapsed onto my chest just as my orgasm hit. I drove her up six times before we came to rest completely satiated and completely exhausted. Thank God it was only 10:35.
We recovered slowly. I removed my cock from her and wiped my abdomen again. It was covered with her thick aromatic juice. Once done, I got a new towel and wiped her crotch. She still leaked even though the sex had ended. All told I spent almost half an hour making us presentable. We were still naked as we lay together. “I just love the way you feel, Rose. Your skin is so smooth and so soft and you’re so sexy. I love your face and your breasts and your tummy, your ass, your legs…damn, I love every part of you, but I love the whole you even more.”
“I’ll bet you can’t guess what I love best about you.”
“Well, I know now that you love my cock.”
“Of course, silly and I’ll always love that…even when we’re sixty, but that’s not my favorite part.” I lay there for almost ten minutes unable to guess. “It’s this,” she said as she pointed to my forehead.”
“You love my forehead best?”
“No, Paul; I love what’s in there—your brain…your essence. Did you know that you were the only person who visited me every day when I was sick? Even my own dad didn’t come to see me as much as you did. I know you could have been out playing with your friends, but you spent more than an hour with me every day reading to me and holding my hand. I knew then that you were a special person—that you were MY special person. Now you really are MY special person.”
“Rose, you said something about loving my cock even when we’re sixty. We haven’t really talked about it, but I want us to be together forever. I can’t formally ask you to marry me because I have no way to support you. But I will ask you as soon as that day comes. Meanwhile we will still have a lot to think about, like what we’ll do when I’m in college and you’re still in school. Don’t worry—we’ll work it out so we’re never apart.” Rose held me even closer then and gave me the kiss of my life—the best kiss I could possibly imagine. Regretfully, we had to dress and leave once it was done.
I was up early the following morning. After breakfast I drove to Sycamore Drive where my two customers lived. They couldn’t have been more different. Dennis Kane was a cheap skinflint who was always looking to get something for nothing. John Gentile was a kind, generous man. I was much more inclined to work for him than for Mr. Kane, that’s for sure. I had parked in Kane’s driveway when Mr. Kane appeared. “Good morning, Mr. Kane. I need to remind you that you didn’t pay me for last week.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of you once you’re done.”
“That’s not how I work, Mr. Kane. I require payment when services are performed. You owe me seven bucks.”
“I said I’d pay you once you were done and that’s what I’ll do.” I returned my tools to the truck and lifted the tailgate to secure it. I walked to the cab to enter when he spoke again. “Listen, you little bastard…you get out here and mow this lawn. If you don’t….”
“You’ll what, Mr. Kane? Beat me up? That I’d like to see.”
“If I called the cops who do you think they’d believe?”
“I think they’d believe Mr. Gentile,” I said, pointing across the street to where Mr. Gentile had observed the entire matter. “So long, Mr. Kane; enjoy mowing your lawn. Consider last week’s job as a parting gift.” I backed out and drove three houses down the block to see Mr. Gentile.
“Morning, Paul…let me guess; he didn’t want to pay you.”
“Right on, sir. He owed me for last week and wanted me to mow before paying me. Ten to one he’d be gone by the time I finished. I don’t need customers like that. He threatened me with calling the cops and trumping up some charge so I was really glad you were out here. You’d be a good witness. Why don’t you show me what you want me to do?”
Mr. Gentile showed me around the property. It was bigger than our yard with lots of shrubbery and several trees. He told me what he wanted, but listened to several suggestions I had. All told we spent a half hour going over everything. He offered me $50 for the additional work which I thought more than fair. I worked almost all day, quitting only for lunch and when I was done. He approved immensely of the job I had done. I was surprised when he asked me to come by tomorrow around one to discuss a summer job. He promised me more money than I could make doing lawns. I explained that I had a family obligation, but would try to get away for half an hour.
I was beat after spending the entire day cutting the lawn, digging and trimming the beds, and spreading mulch. I drove home, called Rose and hopped into the shower. The hot water did wonders for my sore muscles. I ate a quick dinner before driving over to see Rose and take her back to the beach—this time to do some actual fishing. We joined some friends who had already caught some small blacks. I baited our hooks and cast the rods, handing one to Rose, keeping the other for myself.
We were there for almost an hour when I heard Ryan make a crude comment about Rose—a comment that would have been better left unsaid. I put the rod down and walked his way. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t have to. Ryan got the message—keep your big mouth shut or risk the beating of your life. Ryan was bigger than me, but he was mostly flab while I was firm muscle. Once he knew how things were between Rose and me he walked over to Rose to apologize. It helped that Rose had not heard him. The remark was really offensive.
The sun had set when the fish moved in. Blackfish typically would be found in rocky areas. When fishing from the shore that meant keeping the hook and sinker in the rocky band that was about twenty feet wide. Cast too far and you’d wind up in the barren sandy expanse that made up most of the Sound’s bottom. Cast not far enough and you’d be in the pebbles where nothing grew or lived. My secret was to cast deep into the sandy expanse and reel into the rocks. I could tell by the action of the sinker exactly where my line was. It was a practice that had always worked in the past and it worked now.
I had just cast Rose’s line and handed the rod to her. She thanked me with a kiss then shooed me away to deal with a bite. Rose was an accomplished fisherman. We’d fished many times and we both knew that she could bait her own hook and cast her own line. I liked to do it for her so I did. I had a nibble just as she brought what looked like a three-pounder to the beach. I would have helped her, but I had my own fish to deal with.
This was typical of fishing for blackfish. Many times I had stood or sat for hours with nothing happening only to spend the next hour fighting one fish after another. Tonight we spent more than an hour like that, throwing all but the biggest fish back to be caught another day. After catching four big ones, all over four pounds, we called it a night. We set our rods down onto the beach and walked hand in hand into the darkness. Of course, our friends knew what we were going to do—at least they thought they did. We had gone almost a half mile when Rose turned into me and pulled me into a long lingering kiss. Her hands roamed over my body. Mine did the same to her. I was surprised to find she hadn’t worn any panties.
“Oh Rose, you naughty girl—what do you have in mind?
“Does this tell you?” She pushed a condom into my hand.
“You are so incorrigible.” She laughed and pulled me down to the pebbles. I lay on my back with Rose astride me as she unzipped my shorts and pulled my hard manhood from within. She enclosed it within the condom then used her shorts and blouse as a pillow for my head. I grinned unseen as she lowered herself onto me. “As I said, Rose…you are incorrigible. I think I’ve created a monster. Everyone will know what we’re doing when you scream.”
“I don’t care. All I know is how badly I need you.” I was engulfed by her hot tight pussy by the time she finished her statement. Even through the latex shield I could feel the heat and tightness of Rose as her muscles squeezed me tightly. We moved together as we had last night and with the same result—Rose came and came and came, her orgasm culminating in a massive convulsion that shook her body for several seconds. She screamed as it ended, finally reclaiming control of her body. I held her tightly as I repeatedly blew my load into the rubber.
It took Rose almost fifteen minutes to recover. By then I had buried the condom and made a weak attempt to clean my abdomen of Rose’s cum. I took her to the water’s edge to rinse her skin before dressing her and walking back to our friends. I could see Ryan smirk at our appearance. “Keep your thoughts to yourself, Ryan. At least I have a girlfriend and she’s much more than a girlfriend to me. You might keep that in mind while I beat the living shit out of you. When’s the last time you had a date?” I knew that would cut into him; he was an eighteen year old virgin who’d never had a date. Worse, in my mind, his father was one of my customers. Why would the father of an eighteen year old son need someone to mow his lawn? I cleaned our fish at the water’s edge and we walked back to the truck.
We loaded the gear and I drove Rose home. Her eyes were still glazed over and I was sure Aunt Celia noticed although she never said anything. I took the fish fillets to the sink and washed them before bagging them and placing them in the refrigerator. I had sent Rose to the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later looking a lot cleaner. I stayed for almost an hour before setting a time to pick her up for church tomorrow. Not surprisingly, my mom was on the phone when I returned home three minutes later. I knew it was Aunt Celia; who else would call at 12:15 in the middle of the night?
I picked Rose up at 9:20 for the drive to St. Anthony’s. Rose and I always went to confession before Mass. We’d have a lot to confess this morning and, I suspected, many Sunday mornings to come. I went to confession because my mother and Rose wanted me to. Personally, I found the idea of saying you were sorry for doing things that you’d do again and again, like masturbating and now making love with Rose, was silly. I’d say my Hail Mary’s and other prayers as my penance, but I’d be back again next week to confess to the very same sins to the very same priest and for the very same penance. I’d listened to the same lecture on self-control and having respect for my body more than a hundred times already.
As usual, Rose and I sat apart from our families. After Mass we walked out to find Mr. Gentile waiting for us. “I saw you inside, Paul, and I thought we might speak now rather than have you take time this afternoon. Do you know where I work?”
“Some golf course, I think.”
“Yeah—St. George’s in East Setauket. It’s a very exclusive club and it takes a lot to keep all the grass and plants in order. That’s my job; I’m Superintendent. I like the way you work and, more important, you seem to enjoy it. I’ll offer you a summer job at $5.00 an hour. You’ll work a minimum of 40 hours a week so you’ll earn a minimum of $200 a week. Of course, I’ll have to deduct federal and state withholding and social security, but you’ll get most of it back when you file because you’re a student. It’s a bit of a hike from here, but you have a truck. I have to tell you—you’ll have to be there early at 6:00, but you’ll finish early most days around three. Why don’t you talk it over with your parents? You can let me know sometime during the week.” He shook my hand and left.
“What do you think, Paul,” Rose asked once we were in the truck.
“It sounds interesting, mostly because I could continue to do my mowing work, most of it anyway. Of course, I’ll want to spend all my free time with you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Paul, I was thinking…what do you think our parents would do if they knew about…you know?”
“Well, I have a feeling Aunt Celia already knows. You were still kind of out of it when I brought you home last night. She didn’t say anything so…. I know she was on the phone with Mom when I got home last night.” I started the truck and drove home. Later, just before lunch we’d go to Rose’s house for the big Memorial Day cookout. It had been a family tradition since we had moved here twelve years ago.
Rose walked into the kitchen to hug and kiss my mom and dad before coming to my room with me. She sat on the bed while I changed in the closet. We’d done this dozens of times, at least, although not since we’d become a couple. I walked out five minutes later in a tee-shirt, shorts, and sandals—quite a contrast to Rose in her church dress. I leaned down to kiss her. It was relatively chaste, but Rose whispered, “Paul…you make me so hot. All I can think of is doing it with you.”
“Me, too; unfortunately we’ll have to wait. C’mon.” I took her hand and led her to the living room. My parents were there reading the Sunday Newsday and the Sunday edition of the New York Times. Rose and I sat together on the couch. “Mom, Dad…Mr. Gentile offered me a job at St. George’s Country Club.”
“That’s quite a distance from here, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but he’ll pay me $5.00 an hour from 6:00 to at least 3:00, a minimum of forty hours a week. I could probably keep most, if not all, of my current customers. Oh yeah, I dumped Mr. Kane yesterday.”
“We know. He called yesterday to complain. Your father ignored him. We know what a cheapskate he can be. What do you think, Paul? You’re the one who’ll have to do all the work.”
“I think I’d enjoy it. I doubt that they do much hand mowing so I’d learn to use the machines. I’m sure I’ll have to do some digging, but that just helps me stay in shape for football. I like Mr. Gentile. He’s a good guy and he’s always very fair. I’m inclined to accept.” That was that—I had a summer job. Any lawns I couldn’t handle I’d give to my good friend Brian. He had helped me in the past and was always looking for some extra money.
Rose and I left for the cookout around noon, stopping off to see Mr. Gentile on the way. He was pleased that I’d accepted. It was only two blocks from there to Rose’s house. We walked through to the back yard. I hugged and kissed Aunt Celia and shook hands with Uncle Carl. Rose took my hand and led me to the hammock. I lay back on it and Rose joined me. It was cozy for the two of us, her breasts pressing against me. I was a little concerned about her parents, but so far not a word had been spoken. I heard the doorbell a few minutes later as my parents and Mary arrived. Dad and Mary walked out to the backyard with Uncle Carl and Eric. Uncle Carl opened several cans of beer and Eric brought one to me.
“Thanks, Eric—want to play some ball later?” I knew he’d agree. He always wanted to play some kind of ball with me. I took a sip and handed the can to Rose. She wasn’t a big fan of beer, but she would drink it as opposed to some girls who only wanted wine or a cocktail. For some reason New York was the only state in the area where eighteen year olds could legally drink. One day soon I was sure New York would join all the other states in setting the legal age at twenty-one. That wouldn’t bother me; I could take drinking or leave it.
While we lounged in the yard our mothers were in the kitchen preparing food and, I was sure, talking about us. “They make a lovely couple, don’t you think, Martha?”
“Yes, they do, but I often wonder whether I should have told Paul that we weren’t really related.”
“Oh, I think it was a good decision. I know that Paul will take good care of Rose unlike some of the boys I know like Ryan. I’d hate to see Rose on a
date with him.”
“Yes, I suppose what you say is true. I wonder if they’ve—you know—done it.”
“If I had to guess I’d say yes. You should have seen the expression on Rose’s face when Paul brought her home last night. I was actually envious. I woke poor Carl from a sound sleep and fucked his lights out.”
“Well, I hope Paul doesn’t hurt her. I don’t know if I could bear that. Although…when I first told him that he said he wouldn’t because he loves Rose. He also said he was in it for the long haul. I’ve wondered exactly what he meant by that.”
“Why not ask him?”
“Maybe I will, but for now—let’s get this food outside. Hmmm, I wonder if she inherited your….”
“Oh God! You would remember that. I was so embarrassed when all my friends heard my scream. Even now Carl has to stuff my mouth with a towel. I used to wake the children when they were younger. At least they couldn’t ask what was going on, but now…. Well, I guess we’ll never know.” They grabbed the rolls, burgers, hot dogs, and potato salad. There was so much they would have to make two trips.