Hillary: The Summer of ’92 Ch. 09

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Part 9

From Benjamin Dornier’s Journal

Thursday, August 6, 1992

Even though Hillary wasn’t in my classes today, she was never far from my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that it was very likely she and I would have anal sex after I got home. And, even though Hillary didn’t know it, if we succeeded, it would be my first time, too. My wife and I had made a few fumbling attempts at anal sex over the years, but we never completed the act because she always tightened up and couldn’t complete it. And it really wasn’t a big thing for me. If I’d never had anal sex for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t have died feeling deprived. The fact that I might very well wind up having anal sex with Hillary had me about as wound up as I’d been since my teenage years, since the first time I was sure I was actually going to have sex.

Despite being distracted by my thoughts, I did manage to get through the day. And for the first time all week, I managed to get home early. I expected to have some time to set things up for what was supposed to happen later that evening. I wasn’t expecting Hillary to be at my house when I got home, but she was. That did little to settle my heart rate, which felt as if it had been increasing geometrically every second after I left school. I was beginning to fear that I’d never get a chance to finish what I’d started with Hillary because I’d have a heart attack first.

I parked my car, got out, and walked into the house. Hillary met me at the door and gave me an excited hug and kiss. She had on a loose-fitting dress made of black soft material with a tiny flowered print. It had a wide neck and pleated skirt that dropped to mid-calf. And it also had tiny buttons that ran all the way from the wide neck to the hem. She’d left quite a few of the buttons on the skirt undone, I noticed as she walked toward me.

“You’re home early,” she said after the kiss ended. “I figured it would be at least another hour before you got here.” She leaned forward and hugged me again. “I’m making dinner for us.”

Her words made me realize that the house did smell as if something good was cooking. “What are you making?” I asked. “It really smells good.”

“It’s a chicken casserole my Mom makes,” she replied. “I…I hope you like chicken.”

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’m sure I’ll love it,” I told her. “By the way, you look fantastic.”

She stepped back and twirled around to show me all of the dress. “Do you like it?” she asked. “I got it at the mall today. I thought maybe I’d change my image a little.”

“It’s gorgeous,” I said. “It really is.” I’d also noticed that her breasts had moved in a very interesting fashion and wondered exactly what she was wearing under the dress – if anything.

She walked back to me, put her arms around me, and pressed her face against my chest. “You know what I was thinking about when I bought it?” she asked softly. “It was one of the reasons I did buy it, actually.”

“What were you thinking?”

She squeezed me a little and kept her face in my chest. “I was thinking that with the buttons all the way down the front, it would be easier for you to get off.” Her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear what she said.

It was my turn to give her a hug. I also planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m thrilled you thought about that,” I told her. I chuckled. “You know, I’ve always thought people who design women’s clothing should give more thought to removeabilitly.”

She leaned back in my arms and grinned up at me. “Yeah, sure, I bet,” she said. A buzzer sounded in the kitchen. “I need to go finish getting dinner ready,” she said, slipping out of my arms. “You don’t mind if we eat early, do you?”

“Nope, not at all. How much longer before you’re ready?”

“Maybe a half-hour, max,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

It gave me plenty of time to get things set up in the bedroom, which I did. The only thing I didn’t do was heat water to warm the lubricating jelly because it would have cooled before I used it.

“Dinner’s ready,” Hillary called.

I walked into the dining room to find that she’d set the table and even had candles burning. “I’m impressed,” I said.

My young lover blushed a bit. “Ah…I…um…I just wanted, you know, to make tonight special.”

I walked over to where she stood put my arms around her, and kissed her gently. “Every moment I spend with you is special,” I told her. “But this really is nice. Thank you.”

“Um…you’re welcome,” she replied, still blushing. She was surprised when I held her chair so she could sit down. Clearly few boys her age had the same kind of training about how you treat a woman that I’d had.

She served herself, then I took some of the casserole from the dish setting on the table. I also buttered one of the rolls she’d made for us, too. “I’m really impressed, you made rolls, too,” I commented.

“I…I didn’t really ‘make’ them,” she told me, blushing even harder. “They’re the kind you buy in the supermarket.”

I Gaziantep Oral Escort took a bit of my roll chewed it, and swallowed. “Well, you ‘bake’ them pretty well,” I teased. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one.”

“You’re teasing,” she said.

“You caught me.” I forked some of the casserole into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It was fantastic. And I told her so. “That’s incredible!” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a chicken dish that tasted this good.”

Hillary studied my face carefully. “You…you aren’t kidding this time, are you?” she asked cautiously.

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m completely serious,” I told her. “This casserole really is wonderful.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hillary’s face redder. “I…I hoped you’d like it,” she said. “I wanted to do something special for you because…you know…you’re…um…what you’re doing.”

“Well, you certainly did do something special,” I told my rosy-faced companion, “The meal and the way you look certainly fit my definition of ‘special.'”

Hillary surprised me even more when she produced a strawberry-topped cheesecake for dessert.

“You trying to fatten me up?” I asked as she carried two plates holding pieces of the cake to the table.

She giggled and set the plate holding my slice in front of me. “No, I’m not.”

“Good, I have enough problems keeping my weight in line as it is.”

“You’re in good shape,” she protested. “Besides, I made it with skim milk. That’s all we have at home.”

I laughed. “All right. I give up.”

After we cleared the table and got the dishwasher going, we retired to the living room and settled down next to each other on the sofa. I was excited by the prospect of what we were planning later, but I needed to let my meal settle a bit before I progressed to love-making. And it seemed to me Hillary was more than a little nervous.

I turned and caressed her lovely face with my fingers. Her silky hair tickled me as I did. “You OK with what we’re going to be doing later?” I asked.

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

“Remember, I told you we can stop any time. You should never, ever do anything you don’t want to.”

She nodded again. She took my hand, which was still caressing her face, and kissed my fingers. “I…I want…to….do it. I…really do.”

“But you are nervous, aren’t you?”

She nodded again.

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” I said. “But I have heard it can hurt. I’ll stop if it does. OK?”

“OK.”

“Did I tell you that you look incredibly lovely tonight?” I asked her.

She grinned and nodded. “Yeah, about a dozen times, I think.”

“Well, you do look lovely. That dress is looks fabulous on you.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.” I bent and kissed her gently, sliding my hand around so I was cupping the back of her head as I did. As our lips joined, she took my head in her warm hands. The kiss started gently but, as our kisses tended to do, it quickly grew heated. Our tongues began exploring and lashing and the electricity of pleasure began to arc between us. It didn’t seem possible for me to kiss Hillary without that happening.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t going to college,” Hillary murmured when, at one point, we paused our kissing to breath. “I…I don’t ever want this to end…not ever.”

I took a breath, about to respond to her comment, but instead I just resumed the delightful experience of necking with her. Right then, I felt the same way she did, wrong though it might be, and I was afraid I’d say things I didn’t want to say.

Our making out progressed just as it always did, from kissing to grabbing at each other’s bodies. “I thought so,” I said when I slid my hand into the wide neck of Hillary’s dress and discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra. “No bra.”

“I thought you might like that,” she giggled softly. “I saw you looking at my breasts before.”

“I’m not sure what I like more, looking at them, or touching them,” I said. “No…that’s not true. Touching them is way better.”

“Oh, yeah!” Hillary groaned as I swept my thumb over a stiffening nipple. “You’re right. Touching is way better.”

I didn’t want to stretch out her dress, so I started opening the little buttons that held it closed. Soon her gorgeous breasts were exposed and I was licking and sucking her nipples while she clutched my head, groaned, and shuddered. I kept opening buttons until there weren’t any more to open, leaving her elegant body bare save for a very scanty pair of lacy white underpants I’d never seen before. Maybe the dress wasn’t the only thing she’d bought to make this evening special.

Even though I did enjoy kissing her breasts, the sight of her nude loveliness made me want more, as always. I began kissing my way from her chest, onto her abdomen and her moans of delight got louder. Her hips had begun a rocking, twisting movement she was probably unaware of because the look on her face told me she was totally caught up in passion’s thrall.

I kissed my way across the silky, warm skin covering her abdomen, feeling it ripple under my lips, hearing her moans of joy get louder. As I moved down over her belly, I pushed her panties aside and soon felt the soft caress of her pubic hair against my mouth and her moans and actions grew even more fervent.

“Uhhhh! Ohhhh! Uhhhh!! Ohhhh!” she whimpered. The twisting and rocking of her hips became more vigorous the closer my mouth got to her vagina.

Then my tongue was caressing her labia, so incredibly soft and so slick with the juices of need pouring from her as her excitement rose.

“Unnnnhhh! Ohhhhh!! Ohhhhh!” she whimpered. I felt her hands pushing at my head. I had moved so I was kneeling next to the sofa and Hillary was laying on it, one leg dangling over the side, her foot on the floor. I lowered my head between her legs, stiffened my tongue, and dragged it through the cleft between my lover’s need-slick labia. “Oh, Jeezum!” she wailed, her hips arching upward. “Oh, God!”

I continued to caress her tasty opening with my tongue and at the same time I slid two fingers into her vaginal canal and began slipping them in and out while I concentrated the caresses of my tongue on her clit.

“Gonna make…me…cum! Oh, God! You’re gonna…make…me…come!” Hillary wailed. Her hips were bounding up and down and her juices were flooding my mouth.

I lifted my mouth from her middle while continuing to slither my fingers in and out of her. I looked up at her lust-flushed features and said, “Come for me, baby. Come for me. Let it happen.” I lowered my mouth back to her vagina and, almost immediately, she did exactly what I’d asked her to do.

“Uhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh!” my teenage lover cried. Her back arched, lifting her twisting, rocking hips off the sofa, pressing her vagina against my mouth. I could feel her vaginal walls rippling along my embedded fingers as a powerful orgasm exploded through her. I kept licking her clit and fingering her and she kept coming. For a little while I began to wonder if her orgasm was ever going to end. Eventually her fervent motions began to calm. Her hips sank back down onto the sofa and with my fingers inside her I could feel that the rippling of her vaginal walls was decreasing. Her moans of bliss calmed, too. Eventually she was lying still, breathing hard.

I finally stopped kissing her middle and shuffled up so I was kneeling next to her upper body. I put one arm around her and leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.

“That…that was…it was…unreal,” she murmured softly. “You always make me feel so good!”

“That’s the whole idea,” I said, kissing her again. “You deserve to feel good.”

I felt her moving, then she was touching my erection through my pants. “What about you?” she asked. She measured my swollen shaft with her fingers. “God, you feel as hard as a rock.”

“Do you really feel up to making love after what we just did?” I asked.

She smiled at me and caressed my face with her fingers. “I always feel up to making love with you,” she replied. “You’ll make me feel even better if we do.”

“OK,” I said. I started peeling my clothes off. While I did that, Hillary slipped her dress out from under her and slipped her lacy panties off, then she laid back on the sofa lying as she had before, with one leg off the side, foot on the floor. I knelt on the sofa between her splayed legs, moved up between them, and guided the tip of my erection to her vaginal portal.

Hillary smiled up at me. “Take me,” she murmured, her eyes full of fire. “I want to feel you in me.”

I shuffled up a little more and felt my erection sinking into her warm, damp opening. Then I leaned over her, put my hands on the arm of the sofa above her head, and supported myself on my outstretched arms as my erection slid deeper and deeper into her welcoming body.

“Yesss! Oh, God, it feels so good when you’re in me!” she exclaimed. Her legs locked behind mine and her hips began rocking, causing my deeply buried erection to lash her insides. Given the power of the orgasm I’d just given her, I was surprised by how feverishly she was engaging in our coupling.

I hadn’t really planned for any of this to happen. I thought we’d sit for a few minutes, then move to the bedroom and get on with what we’d started the night before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining that we made love. No way.

It would have been nice if I’d been able to stretch our love-making session out, but I was far too turned on for that. I was going to come, and it was going to be soon. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to wait until Hillary and I could share an orgasm. Actually, I wasn’t sure if she would even be able to have one. All I knew was my hips were plunging up and down, sliding my erection in and out of her, making me feel better than it seemed possible for a person to feel. Of course ever time she and I make love, it seems to feel better than it should, so…

I could feel Hillary’s legs tightening around mine, and I could also feel her hands clutching my bottom as it moved up and down. “Take me! Oh, God, Ben, take me!” she groaned. “I…I can’t wait! Oh, Jeezum! I can’t wait! I’m gonna come!”

I guess it was the rippling of her vaginal walls, I’m not sure, but all of a sudden I felt my fluids surging up through my swollen penis. “Oh, God, Hillary! Oh, God! Yessssss! Oh, yesssssss!” I groaned as wild, wonderful sensations inundated me and my fluids gushed into her.

“Oh, yeah! Take meeee! Take meeeee!” Hillary cried. Her legs were locked tightly around mine, her fingers were digging into my bottom, and her hips were heaving against mine so hard it seemed as if she was trying to join our bodies. “Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhh!”

Spent, I lowered myself onto Hillary, then managed to get us turned so we were lying side by side in each other’s arms. She pressed herself against me and kissed me. “God, that was so awesome!” she murmured.

“It certainly was,” I agreed. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it again.”

“Every time you’re in me, I make it,” she replied. She wriggled more, pressing even closer into my embrace. “God, I don’t believe how awesome making love with you is.”

We laid there quietly for a while, allowing ourselves to recoup.

Hillary leaned back in my arms and looked at me. “Are…are we still going to…you know…” she asked softly. Her face reddened a bit, making her look absolutely gorgeous.

“Do you still want to?” I asked.

She bit her lip again and nodded. “Yeah…I do.”

“Do you mind if we wait a while, though?” I asked. “I do have some limits.”

She giggled. “Yeah, I think I need some time to rest, too.” She sat up. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” She rolled over me, got to her feet, and padded off toward the bathroom. Watching her walking around in the nude, whether she’s coming toward me or going away, is an incredible treat.

While Hillary was in the bathroom, I went to the kitchen, heated a cup of water in the microwave, and took it to the bedroom. When I got back to the living room, she had just returned from the bathroom.

“Why don’t we go to the bedroom?” I suggested. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

“OK,” she said softly.

“You are sure you want to do this, aren’t you?” I asked again.

“Ah…yeah…I…um, yeah…I’m sure,” she answered.

With our arms around each other, we walked to the bedroom. Then we slipped into bed and cuddled and necked for a while. It was a gentle, loving time, the kind of sharing two people in love engage in. Was I in love with Hillary? Probably, although I didn’t want to admit it. Was she in love with me? Probably, but she most likely feared saying so because she thought it would scare me away.

I finally got Hillary to roll onto her stomach and began teasing her legs and buttocks with my fingers. My gentle, light caresses had the same impact on her they always did. Her breathing became more labored, her body began twitching and moving, and soft moans and murmurs came from her. By now I was very clear what her unique signals of arousal were and she was showing every one of them.

After toying with her legs quite a while, I began concentrating on the inside of her thighs. I loved the silky-soft skin there. And Hillary clearly liked it when I touched her there because she spread her legs a bit to make it easier for me to do that. More and more, I began concentrating my touch on the area where her legs and body joined, barely brushing against her labia, the little area of skin between her anus and vagina, and circling, but not touching, her tiny nether opening. Her hips were making undulating movements and I’m not sure she even knew it.

“You’re making me crazy!” she murmured. “God, your touch feels so neat!”

“Spread your legs a little more,” I whispered, and she did. I got to my knees between them and looked at the sight before me. Her perfect bottom jutted up in the air a little bit, pushed there by the way her firm, well-shaped legs were positioned. Her back made a graceful curve up to her shoulders. And her tiny pucker was there, open to me, almost begging to be touched. Her hips continued their undulations and soft murmurs of joy continued to come from her. I ran my fingers up the back of both thighs, to her buttocks, and over them. Then I used one finger to circle her anus while I took the tube of lubricant out of the cup of hot water and flipped it open with my other hand. I stopped teasing with her bottom and squeezed warm, slippery fluid onto my hand.

“Don’t stop touching me! Please don’t!” Hillary begged. She pushed her bottom further upward, seeking my touch. “Please!”

I returned to caressing her, pressing my lubricant-drenched index finger right on the tiny rosebud opening we both wanted to feel me in.

“Yesss! Do it! Touch me there!” she purred.

I very gently massaged lubricant into the tiny opening and, as I did, I could feel it relax and begin to open a little. Eventually I managed to get my finger inside her. She was moaning almost constantly by now and once I had my index finger buried in her anus, her rocking hips resulted in my finger-fucking her bottom.

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