One day Chloe asked if I could drive her home. She went to the office and phoned her mom. I heard her say, “He’s not a boyfriend, Mom!” and then a few seconds later, “Yes, him.”
Her house was like a picture. It was surrounded on three sides by rolling hills covered in yellow crops bending in the passing breeze. It was as quiet as a church. She said her parents won’t be home til after 5.
“Want to come upstairs?” she asked, as though that’s what we do now, even though her house had no bullying siblings, no overbearing parents. “I can show you around,” she said. Chloe was 18, had short fluffy blonde hair and big round brown eyes. She was short, not too slim, and smiled as cute as a toy.
We went to her bedroom. She asked me to wait a minute. She came back wearing a pressed sharp red dress. “I wanted to show you this,” she said. I was waiting for her to tell me what the occasion was. She said, “You don’t like it.”
I said, “It looks incredible.”
She said, “Really?” and smiled at me. She said, “Let’s go to my parent’s bedroom, it’ll be better.”
She took me by the hand. She told me that she had “done it” with a previous boyfriend, but her mother hated him and was glad they broke up.
She turned and stood in front of me with her back to the bed. She stared in my eyes and began to undo the big white buttons that ran all the way down the front of her dress. Behind her, the lace curtains billowed. The smell of turned land was rich and wholesome. I could hear crickets, even though it was only 3:30. I thought I had never heard silence like that.
“Do you like it?” she said, breaking the quiet. She held open the front of her dress like French doors to show me the black bra she was wearing. I swallowed and she laughed. She had a distinctly adult-woman look to her and it felt like I had just stepped through a portal into the next phase of life.
“Do you want to lick me,” Chloe said in a tiny voice. She laughed and said, “You can if you want.” She paused and twisted on her feet. “I like it,” she added. I said yes and she laid back on the bed in front of me.
“Take my panties off first,” she said. I reached under her ass and she laid her arms above her head and closed her eyes. Between her legs was a cloud of blondness barely obscuring a line of pink inside. She moaned even though all I did was stare down — pale white skin, jet black lacy bra, messed up blonde hair. Her red dress spread out around her like a serving dish. She floated in a sea of fluffed duvet surrounded by the four sturdy posts of the bed.
I knelt on the floor and poked at her tuft with my tongue. She giggled and told me, “like that, yes,” or “up a bit. Find the hard part.” And when I did, she said, “That’s really good.” I tasted her and noticed she was glistening wet. “It does that,” she said, as though she sensed what I was noticing. I didn’t tell her it was my first time. After a few minutes, she said breathily, “Did you bring something?”
I was alarmed but she shot up. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said. “My mum bought me some.” She pulled a condom from the pocket of the dress. “Know how to put one of these little guys on?” she said, falling back on the bed and laughing some more. After I fumbled around not even able to tear open the package, she sat up calmly opened it, and said to me sombrely, “You have to take your pants off now, you know.”
She wrapped her hand around my stiff cock and tugged the condom over me. She took the rest of her clothes off, peeled back the sheets, and said, “Hurry up, it’s cold out here!”
I slid in beside her but she said, “No, you go on top.” I got on top of her on my hands and knees. She said, “Do you want to put it in me?” She already had me in both her hands. Before I answered, I felt the head of my cock touch her wetness. “Just a sec,” she said. Her mouth and face contorted and she shoved me around. Finally she said, ‘Okay,” and raised her hips when I lowered mine.
She helped me with her hands on my ass, pushing me when I was supposed to push, releasing me when I was supposed to withdraw. When I got it, she placed her cool palms on my shoulders and looked up at me from the white patterned pillows all around her farm fresh face.
She asked me, taking time through deep breaths, “Is this nice?” Her eyes fluttered open and closed. I couldn’t answer her, but she must have seen what she needed to see on my face.
She made a big “Mmmm,” and pulled my shoulders so I fell onto her with my face buried in the pillows. We were joined from head to toe. Our legs twisted around each others and our outstretched arms too, even our fingers.
Her hands went to my ass again and she pushed me faster. I wasn’t so much two bodies fucking as one body moving as waves across water. “Now,” she said sounding like she was going to cry. I went faster and harder into her before ejaculating. I cried out and so did she, deep and bestial-like. In the midst of it, that rush of adulthood filled me again — she sounded like a woman, not a girl. And I had had my first time.
One day we got home before her parents. She said she had to put away the dishes. I read then went to the kitchen. I pushed myself against her. I slid my hand into her jeans. She kept trying to work. I got under her panties. She paused and breathed harder.
She had earlier shown me how she rubs herself. When I did what she showed me, she stopped working. She bent over learning her arms on the edge of the counter. She dropped the cloth and reached up and behind my head. Her legs fell out from under her. I had to hold onto her or she would have hit the floor. She said, lying on the floor, that that was the longest orgasm she had ever had. “And so completely unexpected.”
Her parents often came home late. We spent so many days after school having long, languid sex, before sitting for dinner with her parents. One day, I was on her couch writing. She came down stairs wearing only a short cami. She pulled me off the couch by the ankles. She stood over me and lowered herself to kneel with her pussy over my face. I reached up and found the crotch had a snap. She lowered her pussy onto my face and mashed herself down onto my tongue. Her hips began vibrating violently after only a few minutes and she moaned loudly.
I kept kissing and licking her. We heard her dad’s car pull in. I tried pushing her off but she forced herself onto me harder. When the key turned in the door, she finally jumped up and pulled me upstairs. She laughed as we straightened up. We came down together. Her mother walked by the stairs and put on a surprised face.
“What are you two up to,” she said, pretending to scold us with narrow eyes and a pointing finger, but smiling too.
Chloe said, “Wouldn’t you just love to know!” and they both laughed.
A while later, Chloe was excited about showing me something new. She planted me at the base of the stairs and stood two steps up. She undid her shirt buttons. She was wearing a sexy lacy red bra with a little bow in the middle of the breasts. She said, “Mom got it for me!”
Later, when her parents got home, I overheard her mom say, “Did he see it?” Chloe shushed her, which seemed enough for her mom. That evening, we drove back into town for a movie. Chloe wanted to suck me off as I drove. She made me come hard very quickly. She lifted her head and said proudly, “Look what I did!” before laughing and wiping my dripping come off her chin.
At my house, Chloe and I said hello to whoever was in the kitchen and darted upstairs for homework. More often than not, we were quickly naked and getting on the bed. I could hear my whole family arguing in the kitchen and my brothers coming up to their rooms next door and across the hall.
Chloe liked it best lying on her back getting passively fucked. But before she got it like that, she treated me with blow jobs, 69ing, taking me deep doggy style, riding me forward and backward, in my chair, on top of my desk, standing against the wall forward and backward, and me holding her standing up, her legs wrapped around my waist. Often we’d both be close to erupting when the call went up that dinner was on. I’d shout, “In a second,” and hurry up and finish us off. We’d come downstairs, Chloe all freshly fucked and joining my family at the table to watch, amazed, the daily arguing and yelling that passed for a family conversation at my house.
Sometimes, she left my room when I was still working. She was familiar enough with everyone to get a glass of water herself in the kitchen, or find some leftovers in the fridge. My big family was as much a novelty to her as her empty house. We had a pool table in the basement that she loved. She’d be gone for half an hour or so and I wouldn’t know where.
One day, my oldest brother told me Chloe had come downstairs a few days earlier. He practiced piano in a room down there. He said he invited her to come in and sit. He said he told her to take all her clothes off and she did. And he said she masturbated for him too, when he told her to.
Years later, I was complaining to another older brother about the oldest one and the weird, mean, and psychotic things he used to do. I included the example of how he said he had talked my girlfriend into stripping naked for him. My brother stopped me and said, “Well,” followed by a long pause and a crooked smile.
I said, “What?”
He said, “She was kind of. . . “
“Kind of what?”
“She fucked anybody,” he said.
“Did you?” I asked.
“Well,” he said again. “Yeah.”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/clagn1/one_day_chloe_asked_if_i_could_drive_her_home_mf
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