My name is Jake. I’ve some fun experiences in my life, and I’d like to share them with you. The first few, and there are quite a few, start with Katie. She is the girl against whom every other girl is measured. She wasn’t just my first in a puppy love kind of way. She was my first the way a good designer drug is your first. It’s that first high. The best high. The high that you’re forever chasing.
Katie and I started dating about halfway into my senior year of high school. She was everything a horny teenager could possibly want: willing. I was a good, Christian boy who planned on waiting until marriage to finally have sex and Katie ended all of those plans the day she casually told me, “I’d never wait until marriage. I can’t wait until the end of senior year.”
We started dating a week later.
All of that pent up sexual frustration from years of shameful masturbation funneled right into this girl who waltzed into my life like a semi-truck. Did I forget to mention my good, Christian girlfriend with whom I’d occasionally dry-hump to near completion until we felt we had gone too far? Yeah. So. I cheated on her. Hard. Broke up as soon as Katie and I began. Well, after. I did say I cheated. But the guilt? The guilt was fully dwarfed by the raw passion of young love.
Katie was average in height – a few inches shorter than me – slender, with a pair of the perkiest tits I’ve ever seen. When we first started dating, she was a solid B cup. After a few months on birth control she swelled to a full C and lost none of the aforementioned perkiness. And her legs, God help me, her legs. She was one of those girls who seemed to possess a length she didn’t truly have. Lithe. Put her in a bikini or a sleek cocktail dress and her legs seemed to stretch on for days. She had beautiful pale skin, soft green eyes, and shoulder length hair that varied from “dirty blonde” to “sandy brunette” depending on the last time she went to the beach.
Our first time wasn’t much to write about: we fucked in the back of my car and it was spectacular only in the way a mutual first-time can be. When compared to the depraved acts that followed, it only holds up for the sentimentality (all on my end, if that matters). The biggest reason I never felt guilty about cheating on my Good Christian Girlfriend is because Katie and I dated for 4 years. We fell impossibly in love and it ended as spectacularly as it began. But that’s another story. A later story. This is the story of the time she sucked me off in a car full of other good Christian boys and girls while the pastor sat in the front seat.
As you can probably guess, Katie wasn’t exactly a Christian. She was a proud atheist who simply started going to church—my church—to try and get me to notice her. It had taken me a year. Thing is, everyone but me seemed to know it. So when she volunteered to join our youth group on our annual mission trip to Mexico (think Habitat for Humanity but for Jesus instead), I was more than a little surprised.
“Baby, you don’t need to go. It’s gonna be a week of worship songs and sermons and—“
“—you. It’s gonna be a week of you.”
***
We managed to keep our hands off each other on the four hour drive down from Los Angeles. Well, mostly off each other. Over our clothes. Under a blanket. You understand. I would furiously rub her crotch while trying to keep a straight face while she was simultaneously running her fingers along my engorged dick squeezed uncomfortably against my thigh like a denim sausage. And so the drive went.
Our first night in Mexico was the predictable mission trip fare. Bags unloaded. Tents erected. Campground swept. Fire pit dug. Kitchen assembled. Nightfall. We had a quick dinner and the thirty or so teenagers and counselors dispersed to their tents and zipped up for the night.
Nothing happened on that first night, which was fine. I wasn’t exactly planning on anything sexual happening on the trip at all. Nothing happened on the second night, either, which was also fine. A day of hard manual labor preparing a build site for a concrete floor was exhausting. That third night, however…
***
With dinner eaten and nothing on the agenda for the evening, the youth group dissembled into their various cliques and pairings. I grabbed my acoustic guitar. I *did* tell you I was the Good Christian Boy, right? Well Good Christian Boys buy Good Christian Guitars and learn how to play Good Christian Power Chords to be able to play about 95% of all Good Christian Worship Songs. I headed for a nearby van.
The big, white van sat 11 people officially but only 8 people comfortably. Katie popped in first and slid into the back row where I joined her with my guitar. Phil and Jason hopped into the next row; Sara, Aubrey, and Matty into the next; and Pastor Steve climbed into the front passenger seat. We shut the doors, and Steve said a short prayer. I began to strum some of those Good Christian Chords, softly at first, and then I crescendoed into Better Is One Day as he said “Amen.” This timing, this perfect timing, came from months and months of practice playing with Steve in the church band. I felt the button on my jeans unfasten as my zipper slowly slid down. Katie pulled my semi-hard dick from inside my boxers and slowly started working it up and down. THAT timing came from months and months of fucking in the back seat of my car.
I shifted the body of my guitar as far forward on my leg as I could balance it to give her as much room as she needed. I couldn’t bear to look at her. I knew my face must be turning a funny shade of red, but hoped the darkness of the car interior hid that detail. I changed keys with my capo and started into a new song. Don’t ask me the title, my brain had emptied of all thought as I was firmly on auto-pilot.
We continued like this for two or three more songs. Katie slowly, deliberately, pulling on my now rigid cock trying to arouse little more than my heartbeat. My friends continued to sing. I finally managed to glance over at her and noticed that her eyelids were drooping and her head was doing that little nod-down-then-pop-back-up thing that happens when you’re fighting off sleep. As I transitioned to the next song, Katie stifled a little yawn and curled her legs up onto the seat as she rested her head on my lap. I grinned at Phil and made a little “aww, she’s sleeping” pantomime, hoping to God I wasn’t overselling it. God, I can only imagine, was less than impressed as her feigned sleep was quite clearly an excuse to take things even further.
Her chin pressed against my hipbone as she softly kissed from my stomach down to my now aching penis. She pressed it against her lips while a playful grin flashed wildly across her face. Slowly, she sucked my cock into her warm, teenage mouth one tantalizing inch at a time until I could feel the tip tickle the back of her throat. She swallowed slightly, her throat a wet hug against my flesh. With one hand, she pulled on the underside of my balls as the blood swelled even thicker. Then, just as slowly as she had taken me in, she used her hand to pull my penis out of her mouth while keeping her head perfectly still. She made her tongue flat and wide, lapping the underside of my cock as she slowly pulled it out. Somehow, still quieter than a church mouse, she pulled me back inside and kept me there. She began to swirl her tongue in semi-circles under my shaft while she began lightly stroking the base of my dick with her thumb and middle finger.
She felt my legs tense and dug the nails of her non-stroking hand into the bare skin of my thigh. That was my limit. I had spent the past several minutes mentally preparing myself to mask my face against this inevitable moment. I only had a split second to hope that the mental preparations had been enough as I buried my load against the back wall of her throat. Gently, imperceptibly, she pursed her lips and rolled them up the base of now twitching cock and gathered any stray bits of cum or saliva. She swallowed, pinched my thigh once more for good measure, and quietly set to work getting my pants back in Good Christian Order.
The pastor announced we had time for one last song before heading off for bed check and the group requested “Unashamed Love” without a hint of irony. I nodded, hoping my post orgasmic bliss could pass for simple fatigue, and strummed out the simple tune.
After we exited the van, Katie hugged me goodnight and whispered in my ear: “Tomorrow night, it’s my turn. Better start thinking.”
She flashed that wild grin at me one more time, turned, and ran off to her tent.
Next time: Ch. 2 – “The Campfire Thong”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/44dur3/the_sex_kitten_ch_1_mexican_candy
That’s just perfect. Well paced. Thanks for sharing.