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We have all said it. “If I was eighteen again and I knew then what I know now”
But what would we have done differently?
For a start I would not have gone out with my first girlfriend. Oh she was nice enough, and we had a good time and learned a lot from each other, but since I wouldn’t have to learn it again I might as well go for a different experience.
You see I met her (Penny) at a party, but only later found out that a different girl (Jill) who I fancied, had come to the party hoping to see me. I have often wondered what would have happened if I had chatted to her instead. Because I went with Penny I never got a second chance with Jill. She ended up marrying her first boyfriend, whom she met about a month later. He was a church going hypocrite, who I know has having sex with her well before marriage, even if they did settle down and have three kids, and she ended up spending a boring life between church and the school run. Such a waste of a bright beautiful girl.
Of course if I was back to being 18 I would still be at school, and still have to live with my parents, and still have no money. But with what I know now I could breeze through school, get on better with the old folks and I would be prepared to work and take risks to make some cash, instead of being the typically lazy teenager I had been first time round. Knowing the Derby, Football League and FA Cup, and World Cup winners would also help. (Gambling, and alcohol are both legal at 18 in the UK)
Still I would not have changed my parent’s attitude to sex, so I would need to sort out a place to take girls once I charmed them with my mature and devastating personality. Again ‘what I know now’ (i.e. That one of my school friends became a swinger who invited me to join his girlfriend in a threesome when I was twenty one) would help. His house was not far from the girls school and both his parents worked, so we would be undisturbed on the afternoons… a frank chat, with the hint that if he let me use his spare bedroom to seduce girls I might get one to do a three way with him would set me up nicely.
So if I could go back, when would be the time to choose? February 1980, last year of school, my parents are away for the weekend, my friends have been at my house all day for a jam session and the girls are about to arrive for that fateful party. Just like last time, except this time there would be white wine in the fridge, the house would be clean and tidy, and I would have taken a little time to do some personal grooming. I would have also sorted some snacks and appropriate music, and arranged the furniture. It would all be just a little bit better. So what would have happened? What story could I now tell about that party, and the events that followed….
When the doorbell rang I was ready to welcome them in. First on the doorstep was Jo, a sharp girl in every way, skinny, witty, natural blonde, not a curve on her. Bossy as hell, and definitely on my hit-list for later. Behind her was Charlotte, a short round girl with glasses, funny and charming, but we never had a spark. Her friend Alison was close on her heels, a tall redhead with a strong square jaw who I thought was a selfish mare, and she didn’t think much of me, but the last two from that carload were the important ones. Penny, a quite gorgeous little brunette, and Jill, who I had fancied for ages. She was tall and slim, but not skinny, with a bright broad smile and sparkling eyes, a charming laugh and such beautiful hands that I used to dream of them.
I welcomed each girl in turn, taking a moment to admire Penny (and remember what she had looked like a year later, kneeling naked on the floor of the bathroom, sucking my cock for the first time as my anniversary present) but when I looked into Jill’s eyes and said “Hello, come in, can I get you a drink?” and she smiled back, I knew that I had made the right choice this time.
I broadened the invitation to all the girls, ushering them in to the living room, introducing them to the guys that were there, explaining that the others had not yet arrived but there should be several car loads more on the way, and delegating one of my friends to start pouring wine. I ran that party so well that night, playing the charming host, and ensuring that my friends had enough but not too much to drink, the music kept pace with the mood, and nothing got broken. But I kept close to Jill as much as possible, and even allowed Penny to flirt with me just enough to make Jill a little jealous. I charmed her.
I took her jacket, got her a glass of wine, engaged her in conversation, showed her the rather cool Korg synthesiser that one of the band had just bought (she played piano, it was an easy excuse to keep talking) got a plate of nice stuff to share when we had supper later on (she even volunteered to help me prepare stuff) and did the food flirting thing, popping a grape into her mouth. It let me touch her lip with my finger, and I held her gaze and smiled. She glowed.
Another glass of wine, some dancing, a moment in the hallway to cool down and catch our breath, I took her hand to lead her back to the Şerifali Escort dance floor, and after the next few dances, ever closer and just a little more daring, a touch on the shoulder, a lean in close to say something over the noise, I took her hand again to lead her to the kitchen past Jo and my friend Owen who were attempting to remove each others lips by mutual suction power. We slid past the kissing couple, me giving Jill a meaningful glance, and over to the fridge, where long cool drinks of citron presse were downed. Her face was flushed from dancing, a little perspiration sheen as if we had just had sex, and as I took her empty glass I stepped in close and looked down into her eyes.
“I am glad you came tonight.” I said, “I was hoping you would.”
She looked a little coy, and said “Why?”
“Because I was hoping I might have a chance to talk to you, and dance with you and maybe to kiss you.” Her smile and uplifted head was all I needed to see, and our lips met lightly. A second kiss, and a third followed, each a little more confident, a little more open, a little longer. Gently, not rushing to ‘snog’ as teenage culture called it.
The fourth kiss was longer still and I felt her relax in my arms, I was holding her close now, and could feel her body warm against mine. I pushed her back a little against the counter beside the sink, and let her droop a tiny amount so my knee was pressed a little between hers. I kept the kiss long enough to use up all her breath and pulled away gently so she could take in some oxygen. I could feel her body respond, a little dizzy, her heart thumping as I held her firmly and looked into her eyes again.
“That was very nice,” I said, “Would you mind if I did that again?”
“Please, ” was her reply.
We were disturbed a few minutes later by Owen. And Jo. She made some typically catty remark, but Jill just stuck out her tongue at her, and draped her arms round my neck before kissing me again. A good sign.
“Shall we go and dance?” I asked, and without waiting for a reply dragged her back into the living room where Bat out of Hell was being replaced by Judie Tzuke. We joined the slow dancing couples, and I gently explored her back and shoulders with my hands, and the nape of her neck, while occasionally brushing her cheek or ear or neck or lips with mine. It wasn’t fair really. Between the rush of hormones and the drink and the flattery and the confident and yet unthreatening way I handled her, along with the music and the company, she was almost trembling with previously unexperienced emotions. She was on the verge of lust.
I had imagined that my seduction of Jill would take weeks. I knew she had never had a boyfriend before, and expected her to be shy and wary and that it would be a long time to get more than a kiss, since that was how Penny had been. But I knew that if I played this just right I might well get a lot further right now than I had planned.
“Are you ok? Would you like to get some cooler air?” I asked. She seized the opening and said “Yes” as she moved towards the door to the hall. We had to pass the chair in which Lenny was sitting with Penny on his knee. They were kissing with their eyes closed, and I noticed her put her hand on his to stop it moving up from her knee. Lenny and Penny, I thought, that one won’t last.
In the hall I took her over to the door, going to open it to let in the cold winter air, for the house was oppressively hot, but she took my hand and pulled me toward her instead. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and she grasped the front of my shirt as she kissed me, then stepped up one stair and did it again, then stepped up again. I had to step after her to keep in reach. When we got to the top landing she looked around and said “Which one is yours?” I nodded to the bedroom door on the right.
She stood in the middle of the room (which was much tidier than I would normally have kept it) and looked around.
“I have never been in a boy’s bedroom before” she said
“I have never had a girl in my my bedroom before” I replied.
She laughed, a beautiful light laugh, that got suddenly richer and deeper as she stepped towards me and said “So what do we do now we are here?”
We kissed, I hugged her to me, and with one hand on her shoulder blades to crush her breasts against my chest, I pushed down on the small of her back to push her hips against my thigh. I held the kiss until she ran out of breath and had to throw her head back to get air, which allowed me to kiss her neck, and slide my mouth down to her throat.
I had bent my knees to get my head that low, and this placed my leg between hers. She sagged against my thigh as I straightened up again to kiss her lips, pulling her tight against me, knowing that this would ruck the fabric of her skirt up between her thighs and press against her pubis. She reacted with an eye opening gasp, and then threw herself into another kiss, pushing her hips forward to rub herself against me.
I turned her round, and still kissing her, lowered her to sit on my bed, then knelt in front Göztepe Escort of her. She had to part her knees to let me come close enough to hold her, and this meant that her skirt was pushed up her thighs so that when I was again tight against her this time the bulge of my erection in my jeans was directly against the crotch of her tights. Four layers of material, three of them pretty thin, was all that lay between my cock and her clitoris, but I knew that it was unlikely that any more would be removed unless this girl went really wild. Virgins just don’t go all the way on first dates, even after three glasses of white wine.
For what seemed eternity we kissed, our hands roaming outside each other’s clothes, and she began to grind her crotch against me. Her breathing began to get shallow, her cheeks flushed, she began to bounce up and down against my cock, and broke off the kiss to lean back and push harder still, lifting her legs to rub more of her cloth encased pussy up and down. Her eyes took on that far-away-but-right-here-in-the-present look that I have seen girls get — she didn’t know what was happening to her, but she was enjoying it. It frightened her but she wasn’t going to stop. It was too good, but too new, but too…
She came. Gasping, groaning, thrashing not knowing what to do, writhing in my arms, throwing herself back across the bed, then reaching for me to pull me to her and kissing me with all the breath left in her body.
I was between her legs, her thighs spread wide, my now aching hard on pressed against her crotch. I let my hips move as they wanted to do, but kept it slow and soft. If I let myself get carried away now I knew I would scare her. Maybe the next time, or the time after that. I could wait, but I was sure I would not have to wait long.
So I slowed it down, and still kissing her rolled off her and pulled her on top of me to cradle her in my arms and let her find her own comfortable position. If she wanted to carry on she could easily push against me, or climb on top. She snuggled down against me but lifted her head to kiss me. In a small voice she said “That was…”
I filled in after she paused “Fun? Good? Lovely?”
She paused again and then said “I don’t know exactly what happened there. I think I might have …”
“Had an orgasm.”
“Yes… I think.”
“Was that your first?”
“Yes. It was really…”
“Nice? But a bit scary?”
She just nodded in reply.
“I thought I was going to die the first time I had one.” I said as I hugged her.
She was quiet for a moment, then said “Who were you with?”
I laughed, and said “No one. I was just a kid, I had some interesting dreams and woke up as I came. It was weird.”
“So have you ever done it with anyone?”
She snuggled closer and said “That’s awful. You should have someone to hold you when that happens. “
I held my breath.
Her hand was on my stomach. Inches away from my still erect cock.
I wondered what to say, and managed “You’re right. That would be good.”
She raised her head and said “Would you like me to hold you?”
The question rose in my mind of what exactly she meant, but I simply said “Yes”
“Do you need me to do anything?”
Scenarios flashed through my mind. She might be on for anything. Take it slowly.
“Could you come up to lie on top of me?”
I pushed her hip upwards and she slipped her leg over me. I made sure the skirt which had ridden up over her bottom stayed bunched at the small of her back. I put both hands on her bottom to pull her into position, her thinly covered pussy against my jeans above my cock.
It had been a long time since I last held a tight teen ass in my hands, and it was a joy to rock her back and forth along the ridge of my erection. I knew that each time she slid down my hands would be pulling her ass and pussy a little open, a sensation that would be new to her, making her feel a little more exposed, vulnerable but brazen. She flexed her hips to push against me, and I knew this was for her own pleasure. I wished she was naked with my cock inside her.
I pulled her down to kiss her, putting her ass in the air and making her spread her legs wider to keep rubbing against me. She was humping me, giving in to her own pleasure again.
With my hands hooked over her shoulders I could pull her hard against me, and she began to groan again with each thrust of her hips. I moved my hands down to her flanks, then up over her ribs to cup her breasts. Squeezing them in time with her hip thrusts I heavily kissed her throat, and a little lower down toward her soft skinned breast. She was on the verge of coming again, so I grasped her hair and pulled her into a fierce kiss while my other hand gripped her ass and drove her into some fast spasmodic, climactic movements.
As she came she pulled up to breathe, allowing me to slip my hand further round her ass, to press a finger along her crotch, feeling the soft dampness of the pussy beneath the soaked knickers and tights. My other Ümraniye Escort hand was squeezing her breast, as she wriggled and gasped, before collapsing in my arms again.
It took a few moments for her to recover, and I stroked her hair and back, and whispered gently to her, telling her she was beautiful and lovely, all of it true.
With a deep breath she push herself up and stretched like a cat, then looked down at me and grinned.
“You made me do it again,” she said, and then in slightly shocked tones “Oh no, I got carried away! What about you?”
“I’m fine, it’s ok.”
Her face was heart-warmingly, comically, distraught as she said “But it was your turn!”
I pulled her down to kiss her and said “You can get me next time.”
Her voice was tinged with confusion and hope as she said “Next time?”
I looked at her intensely and said “I want to see you again. I want to go out with you, walk and talk and play music with you, play chess as well, although I’m not much good at it and I know you are on the school team, but I won’t mind if I loose as long as I can be with you.”
She was almost in tears as she said “You mean that? But that’s lovely!”
“And you are lovely too, and I would love to stay here with you, but your lift will be leaving soon, so we had better get you downstairs and maybe you should brush your hair first.”
She tried to argue for a moment, but I overruled her “I am not taking the risk that your parents will see you coming down stairs with your hair so beautifully rumpled. They would never let me see you again.”
She sobered up at that. “You are right, although it is Penny’s mum who is picking us up, and we are all staying over at her place.”
“Well, even so, I don’t want her gossiping either. So go to the bathroom and I will meet you downstairs in a minute. I had better make sure the others haven’t wrecked the joint.”
Downstairs Penny was still snogging Lenny, Owen was in the cloakroom with Jo, and various other couples and drunken singles littered the dining room. At the kitchen table Allison was arguing with a guy called Tim about religion. Typical party really.
When Jill arrived down stairs I got her a non alcoholic drink, and told her she looked fabulous. She did. That shy, but loose and slightly brazen look of the girl who has just had orgasmic sex was on her. We swapped phone numbers, and arranged to meet down town the next afternoon. As she was leaving she put her hand to my cheek and gave me a short but memorable kiss on the lips, and murmured “Goodnight handsome man”
I was touched to the heart.
I had high hopes of what would happen the next day.
Of course in this reality I had earned enough in my summer job to buy a car, although it would have been carefully chosen. Something fun, but safe and unthreatening for parents. A Mini. A car beloved by mothers everywhere and seemingly unsuitable for seducing daughters in. Although parents may be amazed at how flexible a horny teenage girl can be.
So the following afternoon I arrived in the city centre at the designated spot, a little early, and waited with the engine running to keep the car warm for Jill to arrive. She appeared with a small overnight bag, grinning widely, long hair flowing in the cold breeze, all wrapped up in long coat and scarf and gloves and black boots and jeans.
Now jeans are an interesting item of clothing when seducing young women. They have their advantages and their drawbacks. On the plus side the continuity of the material, and the fact that everything is covered with no access, allows a little more freedom for hands to roam on a girl who is wary or nervous. A girl will object to a touch on a bare knee, or even one covered in tights (Pantyhose for American readers) much more strongly than a touch on a leg, even thigh, covered in denim. Trousers allow a girl to move more freely, and to wrap her legs around a boy without the restriction of a skirt when properly down, or the brazen nerve required to lift a skirt up.
On the minus side, tight jeans are very hard to get off, both practically and mentally. Girls generally only wear panties beneath them, so while you might get a hand up a skirt if a girl had tights on (still no easy way to access bare flesh) to take her jeans off is a major step towards being naked. Just opening the fly takes time, getting a hand inside without unzipping is next to impossible, even with a fly down there is no room to move, so they have to be struggled down over the thighs, but then she can’t open her knees so to get anywhere they need to go to the ankles, or preferably, all the way off. With calf length boots to deal with the whole thing becomes unbearable. It is a lot of unsexy nervous wriggling and pulling and being vulnerable and a total turn off for a girl who is not prepared for it.
Of course jeans were just about the standard casual clothes of the time, so the fact she was wearing them may have meant nothing, but while Jill had allowed me to lift her skirt the night before, and my hands had held that tight round ass (which her jeans showed off to attractive advantage) perhaps she was less inclined to allow such liberty today in all sobriety. But her smile was warm, and as she slipped into the passenger seat she leaned across to kiss me, and took my face in her hand. “Hello, handsome. I was worried you wouldn’t be here.”
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