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DISCOVERIES

At thirty, Lou is the owner of his own bicycle shop, having parlayed a college sport into an occupation. He is five-foot-eight, with a lithe and muscular bod, that gives the impression, an accurate one, of great strength. His eyes are brown and his sandy hair is fashionably styled. Lou looks up from a wheel that he is straightening to tell us about his most erotic experience.

Tracy and I practically grew up together. Her family moved into the house next door to mine when we were in the fifth grade. She was a cutie at the age of eleven, built like a boy but wearing frilly girl clothes. My mom said that it would be nice if I walked her to school on her first day and introduced her to the other kids. So I did. After that, we became the best of friends. Tracy and I were in the same class throughout grammar school and junior high school. Most of the guys I knew had other guys for best friends, and most of the girls had other girls. But Tracy and I had each other. We did everything together. We studied together, we joined the same clubs at school, we were even co-stars in the school play.

When we weren’t with each other, we would talk on the telephone for hours. We told each other everything. I remember when Tracy had her first period. She told me before she even told her mother. Tracy started going out with boys and I started going out with girls when we were in high school. Naturally, we told each other all about our dates in explicit detail. At first the conversations were about where we went, with whom, what we did, what movies we saw. As we began to discover sex, we talked about that, too.

I remember telling Tracy about the first time a girl let me touch her breasts. I was so excited, I thought I had finally arrived at the gates of heaven. Tracy knew the girl. “Ooh, she’s got big ones,” she said. “I wish I had boobs that size. Did she let you put your hand inside her bra?” Somehow it seemed perfectly natural for her to be asking me questions like that, and I was completely comfortable answering them. I told her how exciting it was to feel the girl’s nipples get hard when I touched them and how I was hoping that on the next date I would be able to see them, maybe even suck on them.

“Last night I went out with Bobby,” she said. “And he wanted to feel my titties.” “Did you let him?” I asked, breathless with curiosity. “No,” she said, adding thoughtfully, “but I think I will at the drive-in tomorrow night. After all, I don’t want you getting too far ahead of me.” A couple of years later, Tracy told me that she finally had sexual intercourse. We were juniors in high school. She had been dating a college sophomore. She said he made her feel that if she didn’t do it with him it would mean that she was still a child. She confessed that the actual screwing didn’t feel all that good because it was over so fast, but the best part was when he licked her right before getting on top of her.

I was fascinated. I had heard of girls giving guys blowjobs, but it never occurred to me that a guy might do the same thing to a girl. After Tracy described how good it felt when he put his tongue inside her and all around her opening, I was dying to try it myself. There was a girl named Ginger that all the guys said would do it with anybody. As soon as I got off the phone with Tracy, I called Ginger and asked her out. She said that her parents were away for the evening and invited me to come to her house. I practically ran. . The minute I knocked, Ginger pulled the door open and began kissing me. Within minutes we were both naked, and Ginger was lying back on the couch with her legs spread wide. I just stood there staring, my eyes riveted to her crotch. I was mesmerized by the delicate pink slit with its thick pouting lips nestling in the midst of that hairy jungle.

Falling to my knees beside the couch, I clumsily started kissing and licking her moist tissues. I was a real klutz, unsure of my movements, afraid that my lack of experience would sh’ow. After a few minutes, though, I started to experiment, discovering ways to make Ginger groan and sigh. Strange as it seemed, I found myself imagining that I was with Tracy. Eventually, I mounted Ginger and thrust myself inside her. My first experience at intercourse was a lot like Tracy’s. It was over too fast for me to feel anything. When we were done, all I really wanted to do was rush off and get to a phone so I could tell Tracy about it. Tracy had a million and one questions. What did it taste like? What did it feel like? How did Ginger act while I was doing it? I described the whole episode to Tracy. I think that my conversation with her actually turned out to be more exciting than the things I had done with Ginger.

After high school, Tracy and I went away to colleges at different ends of the country. Even though we couldn’t afford to talk on the phone as much as we used to, we stayed in touch by card and letter. We remained as close as ever, continuing to share our experiences. I called her a few weeks before our first Christmas vacation, and we talked for a while about our classes and that sort of thing. As usual, the conversation turned to more intimate matters. I started telling her about a girl I had been seeing, but when I got to the sex part, I found myself becoming uncomfortable. I just couldn’t bring myself to discuss the explicit details the way I always had. And Tracy didn’t seem to be asking her usual questions. When she told me about a guy she was dating, she seemed to be selecting her words rather carefully. It was obvious that she had been to bed with him, but she wasn’t saying much about it, and I wasn’t asking. In fact, without even thinking, I mumbled something about a paper that was due the next morning and hurried off the phone.

That night I just couldn’t get to sleep. I lay in bed for hours, thinking about our conversation. I was imagining Tracy with another guy. I could see them in bed together, naked, rolling in each other’s arms. The images were so horrible that they made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way. It wasn’t until the morning light began creeping through my window that I realized I was jealous. The reason I was jealous was that I was in love with Tracy. Suddenly, I understood that I had been in love with her ever since we were eleven. I was too dumb, too stupid, too blind to recognize it until now. I felt like I had been struck between the eyes with a sledgehammer. I was stunned. At first I didn’t know what to do about it. Tracy was my best friend. I always told her everything. I wanted to call her immediately and tell her about my discovery, but I was afraid. If she didn’t feel the same way, would this be the end of our friendship?

It was risky, but I had no choice. Now that the feeling was out, I’d never be able to contain it. It was only six A.M., but l reached for the phone. Tracy answered on the first ring. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Did I wake you?” “No,” she replied with no trace of sleep in her voice. “I’ve been up all night.”

“Me, too,” I said. Then, taking a deep breath, I blurted out everything I was feeling. Frightened of what she might say, I kept talking as fast as I could until I had to stop for a breath. When I did, I heard Tracy laughing. “I love you, too,” she said at last. “Why did it take us “this long to figure it out? Are we the stupidest people in the world, or what?” We must have talked for an hour, babbling on about our feelings for each other. I never felt better in my life. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the whole world was wonderful. We spoke on the phone again that night. And the next night. And the night after that. All we could think about was Christmas vacation, less than three weeks away. We were both going home and we would be together at last. In one of our conversations, Tracy said, “Do you realize we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve never even kissed?”

When she said it, something suddenly dawned on me. Ever since the morning when I discovered how I felt about her, my head had been in the clouds. I had been thinking abstractly, my mind filled with rosy thoughts of love and eternity. The concept was so new that sharing these thoughts seemed like an end in itself. But Tracy’s words brought me back to earth. In a few weeks I would be seeing her, holding her, kissing her. We would be making love. The thought excited me more than anything ever had before. “Tracy,” I murmured. “I can’t wait to feel my lips against yours. I can’t wait to taste your breath.” ”I want to feel your hands on my body,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement.

For a few moments, we were silent, both of us imagining the things we would discover together. Then, in a tentative whisper, Tracy said, “Lou, tell me what you’re going to do to me.” I remembered our high school conversation about the night she lost her virginity. I remembered how disappointed she was that it was over so quickly and how excited it made her to talk about oral sex. “I’m going to take my time,” I said. “I’m going to lick you until you beg me to stop.” Her soft sensual sigh induced me to go on. “I want to put my tongue inside you and slowly explore you with my mouth. I’ll kiss and nibble your most sensitive places while you tell me the parts you like best. I want you to teach me how to please you like no body ever has.” “Yes,” she said. “I want us to do things together that neither one of us has ever done before.” The next night we talked about oral sex again. Nervously, I admitted that I had never tried sixty-nine. I was fearful that she would tell me that she had done it with someone else and that, if she did, my jealousy would be overwhelming. I was relieved when she said, “You mean both of us doing it at the same time. Oooh, I’ve always wanted to try that.”

We talked about it for hours, imagining together how it would feel when we finally got to do it. I described the position I had always fantasized about. I would lie on my back while she straddled me above. Her knees would be on either side of my head; her face would hover over my groin. She would lower herself slowly so that my mouth came into contact with her sex at the same moment that her mouth came into contact with mine. Our conversation was so hot I’m surprised the wires didn’t burn. At one point I noticed something peculiar about the sound of Tracy’s breathing. “Do you know what I’m doing right now?” she asked.

I thought I did, but I said, “No. Tell me.” “Well,” she said breathlessly, “I’ve got my finger right where I want you to put your tongue. And I’m rubbing myself slowly and lightly, just the way I want you to lick me.” As she spoke, I began stroking myself, too. At first I just listened to her description of the way she was masturbating, allowing it to lift me to higher and higher levels of excitement. Then, when I felt that I was about to burst, I said, “Oh, Tracy, I’m doing it, too. I’m holding my cock and imagining that it’s your hand on me. I think I’m going to come.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. But wait for me. Just another moment. Wait. Wait. Yes, oh yes. Yes, I’m going to come with you. Now. Yes, now.” Her words and the ·excitement in her voice carried me over the top. I closed my eyes at the moment I pumped my juices into the air. I pictured her hand around my cock, her mouth and tongue caressing my throbbing organ. I don’t know what excited me more: my orgasm or the image of her body writhing as her groans announced her climax. After that, we had sex on the telephone at least once a day, sometimes more often. Although our Christmas vacation was getting nearer and nearer, I thought we would die of anticipation. Our long .. distance lovemaking was stupendous, but we both knew that the real thing would be even more sensational. That last week before the break was ecstatic torment. We talked every morning and again every night. In between, I sneaked off to the bathroom four or five times a day to jerk off. I never felt completely satisfied.

Neither of us was willing to wait any longer than necessary for our dreamed-0f reunion. Tracy and I agreed to meet at the airport, telling our parents that we would be arriving a day later than we actually were. My plane came in about an hour before Tracy’s, so when she got there I had already made arrangements for a night at a nearby motel. I drove us there in a rented car. It was a good thing there wasn’t any traffic, because I couldn’t concentrate on driving. In fact, I couldn’t think about anything other than getting into that room with her. The hotel clerk worked so slowly that I wanted to jump over the counter and strangle him. Finally, though, we got our key and headed for the elevator. If we had the elevator to ourselves, I think we would have made love on the way up. As it was, a family with enough luggage for a lifetime rode up with us, and we had to restrain ourselves until we were in the room. Once inside, we fell upon each other like a pair of hungry animals.

The desire that had been building inside us for the last ten years got the better of us. We literally tore each other’s clothes off, tossing the tattered garments around us as we kissed and. grabbed at each other. I bit her nipples and squeezed her breasts until she squealed. She pulled so hard on my cock that it hurt me. But neither of us stopped or wanted the other to stop-not for a second. We sank to the floor, making frantic love on the carpet without a thought for the slow acts we had been discussing on the phone. All I wanted was to be inside her. All she wanted was to envelop me in her softness. We hardly moved before our cries signaled our sudden, simultaneous orgasm. After .. ward, we lay panting and gasping for breath, our arms tightly wound around each other’s bodies. A few minutes later, we began to make love again. This time we moved more slowly, each taking the time to explore the other with the loving curiosity that had been driving us. I kissed her nipples and stroked her soft white belly, while she ran her fingers over my chest and thighs.

Lifting her, I rose from the floor and carried her to the bed, laying her gently across it. I stood for_ a moment, looking down at her glorious nudity, barely able to comprehend that she was mine, all mine at last. I felt tears flowing from my eyes and realized that she was also crying. Our mutual joy was overwhelming us. Slowly, I bent over her, burying my face between her thighs to sip the honey of her loving excitement. As I began licking her, I felt her hands on my buttocks. She nudged me gently, guiding me down onto the mattress beside her, rolling me onto my back. At the same time, she moved into position above me, straddling me the way we had imagined and described in our telephone conversations.

I gazed up at her open vagina, its pink lips dotted with glistening diamonds of moisture. Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered it toward my face. I could smell the fragrance of her as the space between us narrowed. When she was only a centimeter away from me, I thrust my tongue outward, stroking it lightly over her delicately parted lips. At that same moment, I felt the warm wetness of her mouth closing around the swollen tip of my pulsating penis.

So slowly that the progress was almost imperceptible, she took me into her mouth. Following her lead, I slid my tongue gently between the membranes of her vulva. For what seemed like a century, we remained poised that way, tasting the spice of each other’s desire. Each of us slowly became accustomed to the delectable feel of the other’s oral explorations; each savored the taste of the other’s genital secretions. Our contact was so wonderful, so fulfilling, so exciting, that it was like the first time for both of us. We licked and sucked each other until we came to the brink of mutual climax. Then, as if by agreement, we retreated far enough down the slope to allow us to climb slowly to the peak once again. We continued pressing our mouths to each other’s genitals long into the night, each of us recalling the erotic descriptions that had inflamed our imaginations during our daily and nightly telephone conversations.

We had so long anticipated this moment that neither of us wanted it to end. We drew it out for as long as we possibly could until both of us felt as though we would shatter if we did not allow our orgasms to release themselves. Then, each of us knowing instinctively when the other was ready, we let it happen. Our anticipation had prepared us for something spectacular, but it was even better than we had imagined. We sobbed together as the throes of our climax rocked the bed and filled the air with the scent of our passions. We kept making oral love until we drifted off on a cloud of contentment. Lying side by side, we reveled in our union.

That night of our first sexual encounter was the best we ever had. I guess the build-up created by our explicit sex talk and the longing that we finally recognized as true love enhanced our fulfillment and increased the rewards we both felt. We spent the rest of the night trying to do all the other things we had discussed and envisioned, but we realized at last that one night would not be sufficient. We would have a lifetime to spend learning to please and delight each other. The following semester, I transferred to Tracy’s college so that we would never have to be apart again. A year later we were married, and now we are living happily ever after. Sometimes during the day, we talk to each other on the phone about the sex games we’re going to play in the evening. That little taste of anticipation always sparks our sexual appetites.

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