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Review This Story || Author: Michael Jaeggers

Honeymoon Hotel

Chapter 1

                               Chapter 1

     The young girl -- fourteen, freckled-faced, and with a surprisingly 
mature body for one her age -- was dressed in skin-tight white shorts 
and was braless beneath her powder blue blouse.  She lay 'crosswise on 
the bed, and stared up at an older girl who was standing before a mirror 
and running a comb through long blonde hair.
     "But aren't you excited?" Marylou asked, shivering in vicarious 
enjoyment.  "I mean ... I would be!  After all, your wedding is only two 
days away, and then you and Dick go to that groovy castle place in 
Ireland for your honeymoon.  Why, you must be excited."
     "Of course I am, silly." Sue's voice was patient with her cousin.  
"I'm happy and excited.  But I'm also calm." That last statement was a 
lie, but Marylou couldn't know it.  The younger girl couldn't see the 
turmoil Sue felt, the oppressive feeling of apprehension that bordered 
on fear.
     "It must be wonderful to be really in love and be old enough to get 
married ... and wake up in bed next to your husband." Marylou put a hand 
to her mouth and giggled.  "I mean my husband.  If I had a husband."
     "Marylou?" Sue's voice had just a bit of shock in it; she gazed in 
mock severity at the girl and began weaving a thick braid into her hair.
     Marylou's face was cupped in her hands; elbows were planted on the 
bedspread.  The girl obviously decided to throw all caution to the winds 
with her next remark.  "Well, isn't a bed better than a back seat?"
     "Marylou!" Sue threw down the comb and spun around to face the 
girl.  "What are you talking about?"
     "What else?  Sex?"
     Marylou had the bit in her teeth and was not to be denied.  She 
abruptly sat up and curled her bare legs beneath her -- sitting buddha-
like on the bed.  "If I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?"
     "I don't want to hear it," Sue said, emphatically.  She was pretty 
sure of the drift of the conversation; this was nothing to discuss with 
a girl only fourteen.  She hadn't even talked to her mother about it, 
even though the older woman had hinted broadly that they must have a 
conversation before the wedding.
     Marylou looked toward the closed door of the bedroom as if 
suspecting someone were lurking outside at the keyhole.  Then she 
lowered her voice and said, "I know you won't snitch." She grinned 
conspiratorially.  "I'm not a virgin, you know."
     The news momentarily shocked Sue, although if she were really 
honest with herself, the information did not come as a surprise.  
Marylou showed all the signs of becoming a swinger, and she already had 
the build of a 22-year-old bikini model.
     The girl continued almost proudly, "I haven't been one for almost a 
year.  It was Petey Barnard.  After the final football game last October 
... after he was appointed head cheerleader.  We had a bottle of beer 
and it made me dizzy, and then he ... began feeling me.  And, ah ... 
asked me to feel him.  Then he got in the backseat of his car and ... ah 
..."
     "I don't want to hear another word." Sue's voice brooked no 
disobedience.  "Not another word." She shook her head in dismay.  "I'm 
shocked at you, Marylou, really shocked.  You're either fibbing or you 
just blithely gave away your virginity.  Just like that," she snapped 
her fingers.  "Just like you were giving away old clothes or something.  
I think you'd have more respect for yourself."
     Marylou merely shrugged and her breasts jiggled with the motion.  
She replied, somewhat defiantly, "It was fun.  It felt good.  And I've 
let him do it five other times, too.  We're going steady.  We love each 
other.  And everyone in school does it.  Why not?"
     "Why not?  Well, I'll tell you why not.  What does a fourteen year 
old know about love?  What if your parents found out?  What if the 
police discovered you and Petey in the back seat when you were ... you 
were?  What if you get pregnant as a result of it?
     Marylou snorted.  "Oh, poo!  I won't get pregnant.  I'm not that 
dumb.  Why, I wouldn't have let him do it the first time if he hadn't 
been wearing a rubber."
     Sue held up both hands commandingly.  "I said before I don't want 
to hear anymore.  I mean it."
     The younger girl shrugged again.  "Okay.  Okay."  She critically 
inspected Sue, then cocked her head to one side and bit her lower lip in 
indecision.  "You're a cool chick ... real cool.  But I wouldn't be 
surprised if you're still a virgin, even though Dick looks to me like 
he's the impatient type.  He's probably snorting and pawing the stable 
floor." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
     Sue strode to the door and angrily opened it.  "Out," she 
commanded.
     Marylou insolently got up from the bed and stuck her feet into her 
sandals.  Smirking knowingly, she walked across the room and stopped in 
the archway of the door.  "I wouldn't have believed it -- a girl as 
beautiful, as well built as you, a girl who has been engaged for over a 
year -- still a virgin.  Like wow!"
     "Yes, damnit.  I am still a virgin ... and I am proud of it.  Not 
that it's any of your business."
     Marylou held out her hands beseechingly, "Okay ... okay.  Don't get 
mad.  I was just curious.  I never have seen a 20-year-old virgin 
before." She was grinning impudently as Sue closed the door in her face.
     Impertinent little snip, Sue thought; My God, what are these high 
school kids coming too!  She knew Marylou wasn't putting her on; the 
girl was telling the truth about Petey.  A moment later, though Sue's 
inherent common sense took over and she realized that only a strong will 
power had kept her, too, from losing her virginity.  Marylou had been 
right about Dick, he was the "impatient" type ... but he was also 
understanding.  He had proved that time and time again.
     She and Dick had gone steady for almost two years before their 
engagement; and they had been engaged for almost twelve months now.  
While they were going steady, they had necked -- some really passionate 
kissing had come about, but when Dick had begun fumbling for her 
breasts, she had managed to stop him each time.  Since their engagement 
was announced and she received her ring, there had been some petting -- 
at least on his part.  She had permitted him the possession of her 
breasts and, three or four times, he had been allowed to touch that 
sacred area which would be completely his only after the marriage 
ceremony.  Sue had been forced to put a stop to his eager odysseys down 
there because of an underlying fear that she, herself, would lose all 
control.  It did feel wonderful; that, at least, she could admit.  
Unfortunately, after these episodes, she would lie awake all night 
feeling the restless pounding of her heart being echoed deep within her 
womb.  One night -- for the first and only time -- the throbbing had 
become so painfully intense that she had touched herself there with one 
finger.  She moved it cautiously, and her lonely vagina cried out in 
ecstasy.  A second finger joined the first, the two of them gently 
rubbing back and forth on the now damp slit.  The motions had become 
less tender -- more rapid!  She had continued this for almost fifteen 
minutes, but aside from her vagina becoming too tender to touch, nothing 
happened.  She hadn't even come close to that elusive realm of physical 
release mentioned in various books.  She tossed and turned all night -- 
sleeping fitfully.  The next morning she awakened to a deep sense of 
shame -- a feeling that still came back with the full force of its 
guilty intensity each time she thought about it.
     But now all that is past, she thought, as she finished braiding her 
hair.  A moment later, she slipped on a blue cardigan sweater to match 
her muted blue-plaid mini-skirt, and started downstairs.  Marylou, 
bright-eyed and undaunted, met her at the landing.  "Like, wow!  You're 
really getting some groovy loot," she said.  "There must be a couple of 
tons of crap in there."
     Sue laughed in spite of herself, "Marylou, you are hopeless."
     "Come on, let's see the stuff that came this morning." Marylou 
eagerly led the way to the living room where the already opened wedding 
gifts were piled atop each table as though they were luxury items on 
display in a small department store.  Other gifts -- unopened -- were 
stacked on the floor.  Marylou picked up one and shook it.  "Try this 
one -- from the Wilsons."
     It was impossible not to laugh at the girl: she was as excited as a 
four year old under a Christmas tree.  Sue cautiously unwrapped the 
gift, taking care not to ruin the white satin ribbon, and saving the 
paper.
     "Holy Donovan!  A Waring blender.  Neat-o!" Marylou's exuberance 
was contagious.  She grinned and affectionately put her arms around her 
cousin.  "Come on," she said, "you can help me open them.  But keep the 
ribbon, and the paper ... and the boxes.  And don't get the cards mixed 
up.  Better write down what the gift is on each of the cards, so I can 
write thank you letters later."
     The two girls had been working almost an hour opening and recording 
the new gifts when the telephone rang.
     Sue, thinking it was Dick, answered it on the second ring.
     "Sue ... this is Peggy Martini.  Your gown's ready for final 
fitting.  When can you try it on?"
     "I'll come right over ... if that's convenient for you."
     "Come ahead, dear.  I think you're going to be very pleased with 
it."
     "Oh, I'm sure I will be," Sue said ecstatically; then, as the 
doorbell rang, she shouted over her shoulder, "Marylou, get that, will 
you?"
     "Be sure and bring the undergarments you're going to wear at the 
wedding," Mrs. Martini added.  "We want the gown to be just right."
     "I'll be there in about five minutes." Sue said, hanging up, and 
looking toward the door where the deliveryman from Holman's Department 
Store and Marylou were both carrying in additional gifts.  Three 
different trips were made between the front door and the truck.  Sue 
signed the delivery slips while Marylou was busy counting and shaking 
packages.
     "Golly, seventeen more gifts ... and this one weighs about thirty 
pounds," Marylou's excited voice reported.  "Shall we open them?"
     "I can't right now.  Mrs. Martini wants to do the final fitting." 
Sue saw the disappointed look on the girl's face.  "Hey, why not come 
along to Mrs. Martini's with me?"
     "Oh ... I'd like to, but Petey and I are going swimming.  He's 
picking me up here in about twenty minutes or so.  How long will you be?  
Will you be back before he comes?"
     "I doubt it.  The fitting probably will take at least an hour."
     Marylou looked down at the rug and traced an abstract pattern with 
her big toe.  "I don't suppose you'll change your mind about the hayride 
tonight?" she asked hopefully.  "Petey and I wouldn't bother anyone.  
Honest.  I promise!"
     "I'm sorry, chicken.  No.  There will be liquor and, besides, 
everyone there will be in their twenties.  We'll be just a bunch of old 
fogeys."
     "Okay ... of you don't want us."
     "Look," Sue said in an effort to make the girl feel better, "I'll 
save some packages for you to open tomorrow.  Okay?"
     "Ummm ... I suppose so." It was said listlessly.
     Sue picked up her purse.  "I've got to go.  Be sure and lock up 
before you leave."
     Five minutes later, Sue was in a dressing room at Mrs. Martini's.  
She quickly slipped on the blue lacy garter belt and her hose.  "Now, 
dear, lift your hands straight up," Mrs. Martini ordered.  "No quick 
moves; the gown is just tacked.  We don't want it falling apart." Sue 
felt the rich nylon garment slip down over her arms and bead.  She 
looked at herself in the mirror.  The gown clung to her like a second 
skin.  Mrs. Martini zipped up the long zipper in back then stood away to 
inspect her work.  "Beautiful.  Just beautiful!" Mrs. Martini's face 
grinned over Sue's shoulder in the mirror.  "You like?" she asked, 
fitting a veil over Sue's blonde hair.
     "Oh, yes!" the girl answered sincerely.  "It's ... it's just ..." 
She closed her eyes, unable to think of the appropriate phrase.  It is 
so beautiful, she thought; Dick will love me in it.
     The older woman smiled in understanding.  "Well, that's all then.  
We'll sew it up this afternoon; I'll deliver it on Sunday around one."
     "You mean ... that's all?  Nothing more for me to do?"
     "Nothing," she said airily.  "All you have to do is step into it 
Sunday at three, and then walk down the aisle."
     Mrs. Martini helped her out of the gown, and Sue dressed again in 
her blue sweater and plaid skirt.  She glanced at her watch and was 
surprised to see that only ten minutes had elapsed.  "Maybe Marylou will 
get to open some more packages after all," she said to herself.
     It was a pleasant day, Sue noted, as she walked the two blocks back 
to her home.  Sue felt like skipping, and she did ... for a second or 
two until she remembered to be ladylike.  She hoped the clear warm 
weather would hold until Sunday at least.  She hoped it would be nice 
weather in Ireland.  She hoped so many things, "But mainly I hope Dick 
and I will be happy together." She was humming a tune when she turned 
the corner and saw Petey's car in the driveway.  Her step faltered; she 
abruptly remembered Marylou's candid confession about being intimate 
with the cheerleader.  The boy was only fifteen, he might even be 
fourteen -- not yet handsome, but fairly good-looking, with a pleasing 
personality.  He had a certain poise; Marylou had undoubtedly helped to 
bring part of that about.  During the Spring semester, he played 
shortstop on the high school baseball team -- was too small of stature 
and build for football -- and had earned his letter.  Marylou and he 
made a rather attractive couple of teenagers, Sue thought.  Still, 
though, they were teenagers and should not have been physically 
intimate.
     Knowing what she did, Sue was sure that she would be unable to hide 
her mixed emotions if she faced the boy, so she walked around the side 
of the house and came quietly in the back way.  She had planned to stay 
in the kitchen until he and Marylou left to go swimming.  Obviously, 
they would have to be leaving in a minute or two.
     The house was quiet -- too quiet, she thought.  Surely the young 
couple had left.  For a moment, Sue deliberated calling Marylou's name, 
then decided she would just walk in unannounced.  After all, it was her 
home!  Sue left the kitchen and went through the alcove next to the 
living room.  She was about to slide the doors open when she heard what 
sounded like a low cry of pain.  Puzzled, she peered through the crack 
and then froze in shock and amazement.  There, stretched out full length 
on the couch, were Petey and Marylou.  The girl's white gym shorts had 
been unzipped and -- together with her white nylon panties -- were down 
about her knees.  Her blouse was open all the way, and Petey's mouth was 
glued to her right breast.  Even as Sue watched Marylou groaned again -- 
and Sue realized it was not a cry of pain, but of delight.  The boy's 
middle finger was sawing away in maniacal fury at the junction of 
Marylou's widely outspread legs.  Her young pelvis was moving up and 
down in an effort to capture and hold on to the elusive digit.  From her 
vantage point, Sue could even see the enlarged pink clitoris almost as 
large as an infant's penis.
     Sue knew she should go away -- go back to the kitchen -- and 
perhaps slam a door as if she had just entered.  Then she could call out 
Marylou's name; that would give the boy and girl a chance to get into 
their clothes.  But then she also knew that she wouldn't be able to face 
either one of them after what she was viewing now.  Her attention 
snapped back to the front room as Marylou arched her back up off the 
sofa and began to pant hoarsely.  "I'm cumming, Petey," she cried once, 
then fell back, her face twisted in a lewd expression of delight and her 
legs beating against the leather couch.
     After her movements had slowed, Petey took his finger away and 
lifted his mouth from her breast.  He slid one knee over her thigh, as 
he began fumbling with his zipper.  "Put it in for me, huh?" he 
requested.
     "No!  I told you no." Marylou said.  In spite of the fact that her 
eyes were closed in satiation, there was no mistaking her adamant tone 
of voice.
     "Please!" It was a frantic plea from the boy.
      Marylou sighed in exasperation and opened her eyes.  "I told you 
before you started messing around.  It's the dangerous time of the month 
for me, and even if it wasn't, you'd still have to have protection.  You 
know that!"
     "Oh, God.  I'm dying," the boy wailed.
     Marylou sat up on one box.  She had a very patient expression on 
her face.  "Lie on your back," she ordered, and turned on her side to 
give him more room.
     Petey did as he was told.  She suddenly realized that Marylou knew 
exactly what to do ... had probably done this many times before.  Even 
as she watched, Marylou expertly unfastened the boy's belt, undid the 
waistband hook, and then unzipped the trousers.  His jockey shorts were 
bulging.  Marylou's hand slipped in the opening and withdrew the penis.
     She was frozen; she couldn't have moved now even if the house had 
been hit by an earthquake.  She had never seen anything like this 
before, although she knew it must happen all the time between some boys 
and girls.  It had almost happened with her and Dick.  That didn't 
change the situation; it was still lewd, dangerous, and wicked.  
Marylou's hand encircled the virile instrument at a point just below the 
head of the organ.  She began moving her hand up and down, up and down.  
Petey lay back with a blissful look on his face, his eyelids fluttering, 
and his breath coming rapidly.
     "Let me know," Marylou said.
     "Yeh ... yeh ..." it was a hoarse grunt.
     Less than thirty seconds later, Petey raised his buttocks off the 
couch and his face twisted in a grimace, "Ahh ... ahhh," was all he 
said, but the communication was obviously effective for Marylou quickly 
used her other hand to pull up the jockey shorts just as the first white 
spurts of the boy's sperm came flooding through the subterranean 
channels of his penis.  Marylou continued to stroke him -- more gently 
now -- and on her face was an unfathomable look that might have been 
either pleasure or satisfaction.  Finally her hand motions stopped.  She 
grinned down at the boy.  "Feel better, sugar?" Sue asked softly.
     "Ummm.  God, yes," Petey sighed.  "It's not as good as the real 
thing -- like fucking inside of you ... but it's better than nothing."
     Marylou laughed, "And better than doing it yourself?"
     "Hey now.  I don't ..."
     "You do," and she hit him playfully, "doesn't everyone?"
     After a moment, Marylou brought her hand out from beneath his 
jockey shorts.  Sue could see the hand was all wet; it glistened in the 
reflected light.  Marylou calmly wiped her hand on the tail of his tee 
shirt.  Petey turned his head toward her; Marylou's breast was only 
three inches away from his mouth.  He parted his lips, his tongue came 
out and licked the erect brown nipple.
     With a look of rapture on her face, Marylou put her hand behind his 
head and pulled him closer to her.  His mouth opened all the way as he 
seemingly attempted to devour the entire breast.  "Ummm ... that's 
wonderful." Then, abruptly, she pulled away from him and was very 
businesslike.  "That's enough," she said in mock sternness.  "We'd 
better get going.  Sue will be back in a few minutes.  Come on ... get 
up, lazy." She prodded him with her knee.
     Reluctantly, Petey stood up and faced the alcove door behind which 
Sue was hiding.  His levis were down around his knees, and he stood 
straddle-legged to keep them from slipping down any further.  In an 
attempt to straighten out his sopping wet jockey shorts, he was forced 
to lower them to about mid-thigh.  Sue saw his cum-covered penis, 
flaccid now and only about two and a half inches long.  He used the 
lower part of his tee shirt to dry it, and the vigorous drying motions 
started the organ swelling and elongating again.  Marylou unconcernedly 
got off the couch, and Sue was able to see sparse young triangle of 
pubic hair before the white nylon panties and tight white gym shorts hid 
it from sight.  Casually, the girl buttoned up her blouse, all the while 
smiling affectionately at the boy.  A moment later, arm in arm and 
giggling, they left; this was followed by the sound of Petey's car 
starting up.
     Sue suddenly realized that she was debilitated -- so weak that her 
legs were almost unable to support her weight.  She felt shame at having 
acted as a "Peeping Tom", but more than that, she could feel a sense of 
forbidden excitement that raged like a wild fire in her own loins and 
brought a hot fevered dampness between her thighs.  For a moment, when 
the boy and girl had been petting, it seemed almost as if Sue herself 
were being fondled.  Woodenly, she slid the door open and walked to the 
couch.  She reached out one trembling hand and touched the leather.  No, 
it hadn't been a dream.  The leather was still warm from the heat of 
their bodies and, in one place where Marylou had lain with her bare 
buttocks pressed against the sofa.  She could feel dampness where the 
girl's love juices had flowed down between her legs to the couch itself.
     She sat down and thought about what she had seen.  The performance 
of the two teenagers was wrong.  Not only wrong, but sinful and 
dangerous.  Yet, on the other hand, it had seemed such a natural thing 
and so very enjoyable!  She had no doubt that the real act of sexual 
intercourse between Petey and Marylou would be just as natural -- 
accepted just as calmly.  And her thoughts moved on to her relationship 
with Dick.  When she permitted Dick to fondle her, she had known 
excitement ... at least for a few happy, beautiful moments.  Always, 
though, she had become frightened as she felt her senses drifting away 
leaving her body helpless to any onslaught.  And so, she had tightened 
up each time.  As for touching Dick's penis ... no matter how much Dick 
wanted her to caress him, she couldn't bring herself to do it.  His male 
organ frightened her.  Even though she had never seen it, she knew it 
was much, much larger than Petey's.
     Sue picked up a wedding gift.  "Everything will be much better 
after the wedding," she said aloud, and felt immediate depression 
because she was pretty sure it wouldn't be that much better.  She forced 
herself to grin and began ripping the paper off the package.  "I am just 
having prewedding jitters.  Every bride has them.  Don't they?" And she 
laughed humorlessly with the realization she was talking to herself.  
More than once during the next hour her eyes fastened on the couch, and 
she found herself wondering what it would be like if she and Dick ...
     Five hours later, when Dick came to pick her up for the traditional 
"final date" before marriage, the combination of perturbation and 
forbidden excitement still racked her body.  She met Dick at the door, 
threw her arms around his waist, and kissed him warmly.  As she pressed 
her body in close to him, she could sense his surprise at her 
uninhibited welcome.  Her mouth opened to receive his tongue and her own 
tongue quivered and played effusively with his.
     Dick, delighted with the greeting, drew back and asked, "What gives 
here?"
     "I can kiss my husband-to-be, can't I?" she said, grinning in what 
she hoped was a wicked manner.
     "Anytime, baby.  Anyway!" They clenched again, then drew quickly 
apart as Sue's mother banged a door at the top of the stairs and came 
down.
     "Good evening, Richard," she said, primly, not smiling.
     "Hello, Mrs. Ogden.  How are you this evening?"
     "Not very well, thank you.  I have a headache." Silence settled 
over the group.  Sue finally broke it by taking Dick's arm and saying, 
"Don't wait up, Mother.  It'll probably be after midnight before we get 
back from the hayride."
     Mrs. Ogden stared at Sue, then nodded.  "Have a good time," she 
said, and it was obvious the statement was made perfunctorily.
     Dick opened the door for Sue and led the way to his side of the 
convertible.  She slid in, showing more thigh than she usually showed, 
and didn't bother to pull down her skirt when Dick got behind the wheel.  
His mind was on something else, it seemed.  "Brrr," he said, shivering 
as though he were freezing.  "It was a bit cold in there tonight."
     Sue quickly put her hand over his.  "Mother means well."
     "Sure," he answered, starting the car and backing out of the 
driveway.  "Just like last week when I told her to cheer up; that she 
wasn't losing a, daughter, she was gaining a son.  She looked at me like 
I was something that had crawled out of the apple pie and said, 'I am 
losing a daughter.'"
     "Everything will be all right," Sue said, moving over until her hip 
was touching his.
     Dick looked down at her legs and breasts, grinned, and said, 
"Everything is perfect already."
     She dimpled and replied, "Thank you, kind sir," and felt the 
happiness well up in her.
     Dick drove quickly -- surely -- driving with one hand, with his 
other arm around her shoulders.  His tape deck was playing something 
soft -- something for people in love.  Neither of them spoke as they 
drove out of town, heading toward the farm where the haywagon ride was 
to originate.  They were the last to arrive.  Other couples were already 
in the wagon, and shouting impatiently for the evening to begin.  
Several bottles of hard liquor were in evidence, being passed around to 
be drunk straight.  Sue had a mouthful of straight bourbon and coughed 
as it burned its way down her throat to her empty stomach.
     Someone began singing as the two horses pulled the wagon across the 
countryside.  With the coming of darkness, the various couples began 
snuggling down into the sweet--smelling hay.  There were muffled giggles 
from the girls and occasional barks of laughter from the boys.  Sue knew 
all of the others on the ride -- most of them had been friends since 
kindergarten.  They were a nice bunch of kids, she thought.
     Dick pulled her down deeper into the hay, and she found herself 
almost buried in it, and lying full-length and pressed against him.  The 
image of Petey and Marylou came to her at once, but she forced it out of 
her mind by asking, "Happy?"
     "Uh-huh.  You?"
     In reply, she kissed him and found his mouth partially open: 
without volition, her tongue swam into his mouth.  He savagely returned 
the kiss, and the excitement Sue had felt earlier began creeping back 
again.  Now Dick's hands cautiously touched her breasts.  Even through 
the sweater and blouse and slip and brassiere, she had felt the 
electricity between them.
     The spell was momentarily broken when from the other side of the 
wagon, Sally Miller, the pert little redhead who was to serve as 
bridesmaid on Sunday, said very loudly, "Harvey Johnson.  You stop that.  
You just behave yourself.  You hear?" The remark was followed by ribald 
laughter from all the boys, including Dick.  Even the driver, a 70-year-
old coloured man, doubled up in laughter.
     A second later, Dick began kissing her again.  Their two tongues 
sparred, and she felt his hands becoming more sure of themselves when 
she did not protest.  Lying as they were, face to face, Sue was also 
becoming very aware of the hard bulge beneath his trousers, which 
confessed his desire.  She wanted to reach down there and caress him the 
way Marylou had caressed Petey; she was steeling herself to do it when 
his hands moved beneath her sweater and his knee moved between her 
thighs, separating them.
     She made no effort to halt his fumbling efforts to unfasten the bra 
clasp, trusting him and herself.  His movements, concealed by the straw 
and the night, were successful.  A delicious moment later, his bare hand 
was on her naked breast; his fingers played over the nipple and he 
lovingly squeezed the firm, full mound of flesh.  Never before had it 
felt so delightful to her.  His tongue had become imperative, his 
movements almost frantic.  His hips buffeted against her pelvis.  She 
found herself panting -- wanting him to stop, yet deep inside wanting 
him to go ahead forever.  She wanted him to kiss and bite her breasts 
the way Petey had with Marylou.  She was only vaguely aware of the 
clopping of the horses' hooves and the murmuring sounds of other couples 
who had also buried themselves in the anonymity of the hay.  No doubt 
everyone was necking furiously, she thought.  Suddenly, the breath went 
right out of her body.  With one unhesitating smooth motion, Dick's hand 
slid up her thigh, dug itself under the thin elastic leg band of her 
panties, and touched the hot, moist lips of her now fevered vagina.  Oh, 
God!  She had been dying for him to do this ... and now she didn't want 
him to.  Immediately she dropped her arm and tried to pull his hand 
away; she also attempted to move her mouth from his.  She was helpless, 
so weak.  She was almost beside herself as he began massaging the hot 
throbbing passage between her legs.  Once, his thumb and forefinger 
tweaked the sensuously tingling clitoris and a shower of ecstasy sparked 
through her groin.  He began using his other arm to force her hand down 
toward the awesome bulge in his pants.  She could feel reason leaving 
her; it was insane.  "No ... no!" she cried aloud and struggled upright.  
No one noticed her.
     Sue saw him looking at her, wild-eyed and trembling.  Finally he 
seemed to gain control of himself and nodded that it was safe to come 
back into his arms.  She did so, trembling like a person afflicted with 
epilepsy, and kissed him gently on the lips.  The bulge in his trousers 
felt even larger now, and she could feel it beating like a second heart 
against her bare thigh.
     She had almost decided she would do something about relieving him, 
when the driver shouted to someone, and Sue heard Sally Miller's voice, 
"Hey, everybody, we're here!" The wagon made a half circle and stopped 
at the bank of a river.  A huge bonfire was scattering sparks to the 
night.  The smell of broiling steaks came on the wind.  A keg of beer 
was tapped as one of the farm hands began playing a guitar.  Dinner was 
followed by a round of singing as the bonfire slowly died down.  One by 
one, the couples began drifting into the perimeter's darkness.
     Sue felt Dick's hand pulling her to her feet.  Arm in arm they 
walked down the dark beach.  They had almost reached the end of the sand 
bar when he suddenly stiffened and whispered, "Shhh.  There's someone 
out there." Sue could hear the muffled groans and something that sounded 
suspiciously like the sound of body slapping against body.  "What is 
it?" she whispered, half-frightened, not knowing what lay out there in 
the darkness.
     She saw Dick grin and he put his mouth against her ear.  "I think 
it's Sally Miller and Harvey Johnson.  Come on, let's see."
     Sue held back.  "That wouldn't be nice," she hissed.  "We 
shouldn't."
     "Come on," Dick insisted, and took her hand.  "Be quiet."
     They moved silently across the beach heading toward the little 
gully that separated the sand bar from the bank.  Dick pulled her low to 
the ground in order to cut down their silhouette.  They peered over the 
bank.
     Sue made an audible gasp, which was quickly shut off by Dick's hand 
over her mouth.  Her eyes were wide in amazement.  There, down below 
them, only about ten feet away, were two nude bodies.  Sally Miller's 
naked white thighs were spread wide and jerking frantically in the air 
as Harvey Johnson lay heavily between them.  She saw Harvey's buttocks 
raise, revealing a huge white rod of glistening flesh in the moonlight; 
the rod was sunk deep between Sally's open thighs!  Harvey thrust it 
forward and the girl's naked vagina rose to meet it in midair.  She 
squealed out in delight.  Faster, faster, the two bodies moved against 
each other.  Sally's breath was coming in loud, short, puppy-dog-like 
pants and her movements were frantic.  "Fuck me harder, harder ... oh, 
yes ..." Sally groaned then, with her face contorted in lascivious lust 
and passion, cried out, "I'm cumming, Harvey.  Ah!  Ahhh ... aieeeee.  
I'm cumming.  Fuck harder!" She made one maddened thrust upward and then 
fell back on the sand, her body spasming uncontrollably, her legs 
pounding the ground.  A moment later, Harvey rammed forward and groaned 
out his own release, and the couple lay still; the only sound was their 
hoarse exhausted breathing and the slap-slap-slap of water as the little 
silver river waves rolled peacefully up on the sandbar.
     Sue was only vaguely aware of Dick leading her away into the 
darkness.  Well, now she'd seen it.  She knew the word for it; Sally had 
been 'fucked', and Sally had used the word 'cum' as her body went insane 
with lust ... just as Marylou had screamed out she was 'cumming.' And 
Sally had enjoyed it, had obviously been deliriously happy during it ... 
and so had Marylou.
     The sight had almost maddened her with a strange unwanted desire.  
She could feel the hot dampness now of her own awakening loins.  Dick 
was pulling her firmly away from the bank toward the darker shadows by 
the bluff.  Once, when she opened her mouth to say something, he held up 
his hand and silenced her.  After they had gone about fifty yards, he 
stopped and pulled her body around toward him.  They kissed.  Sue wasn't 
attempting to tease him; she had a fire in her loins that cried out for 
extinguishment.  She didn't know how to put out the fire or how it could 
be put out; that would be Dick's job.  All she knew was that she was 
instinctively grinding her pelvis against that forbidden area where his 
trousers bulged.  Instinct told her that when these two junctions were 
finally joined, the fire would blaze up in an all-devouring 
conflagration, explode, and then slowly die like a beautiful sunset.
     Standing on tip-toe, abdomen wantonly pressed against him.  Sue 
suddenly felt Dick's sure hands sweep up under the short skirt and cup 
her thin panty-covered buttocks in his palms.  A second later, his 
thumbs hooked over the elastic waistband and with one delicious motion, 
her panties, were pulled down over her hips.  Dick fumbled with his 
zipper and then the long hard rod which had been held captive for so 
long was released.  It pressed hotly against her naked belly, throbbing 
hungrily with each beat of his heart.  Standing pelvis to pelvis, she 
felt his knees spread outward a bit to lower himself.  Then the fevered 
cock was between her thighs.
     "Dick," she moaned.  "Please ... no.  We can't." That was what her 
lips said, but her body was screaming, 'Oh, yes ... now, right now, my 
darling.  What difference does a day or two make now." And so, without 
conscious volition, she flexed and unflexed her thigh muscles against 
his throbbing penis knowing by his moan of pleasure that she was 
instinctively doing the right thing.
     Dick sawed his cock between her thighs; she could feel the hardness 
of it moving back and forth inside its sheath of hot thin skin.
     His finger had begun to seek out the now moistened entrance to her 
womb and after a second he found it.  He turned his hand palm up to cup 
the whole of her naked crotch in his hand and, at the same time, force 
her thighs apart.  She hated to lose that wonderful contact between her 
upper legs and his penis, but she permitted him to spread her anyway.  
His fingers were moving like those of a sensuous harp player across her 
vaginal lips.  She wanted to cry out in delight.  Never before had she 
ever felt anything so soul consuming.  Her neck arched and she moved her 
face from side to side, her lips contorted and panting out over and over 
again, "No ... no ... no," and obviously -- from her wanton actions -- 
meaning, "Yes ... yes ... yes."
     Dick was grinding his teeth and grunting softly as he moved his 
penis up and down the length of her thighs.  She could feel some 
moisture there; she wondered if he had 'cum'.  He still was hard, still 
was moving ... so obviously, she thought, he hadn't reached his climax.  
There was a moisture -- a hot, slippery moisture -- in her own vaginal 
split; the artesian springs of passion coming to life under his 
quivering rod.
     "Sue ... please!  I want you.  Let me." He continued to buffet her 
thighs with his prick.
     I can't let you, she thought, incapable of speaking through her own 
longing.  I can't stop you ... I won't stop you if you really try.  His 
huge rod now had slipped up to the top of her thighs and its head 
pressed and quivered against her hungrily throbbing cunt lips.  She 
cried silently, "Oh, how I want you to make love to me.  Do it now!"; 
nothing escaped her lips though except wild hoarse pantings of desire.  
For the first time in her life she felt as if something good was about 
to happen to her down there between her legs.  Her heart rejoiced.  
There was no fear this time, as there had been in the past.  No sudden 
withdrawal of her senses.  If anything, her senses stayed right there 
and intensified.  It was beautiful.  It was wonderful.  She wanted to 
cry out to him, "Take me ... take me now, darling." When her fiancee 
began pushing her gently down toward the sand, she went willingly.  
Panting, she lay on her back, legs slightly spread, looking up unseeing 
at the starry sky and watching as Dick unfastened his trousers and 
dropped them.  Then he was kneeling between her thighs, the heat of his 
bare hips and buttocks against her abdomen and legs.
     "Be gentle," she moaned, as she felt the huge head of his prick 
pressing at the lips of her unprotected vagina.  She lay there, the heat 
of the moment on her -- wanting it beyond all other things, and 
ecstatically happy that the fright had finally left her.
     Dick's tongue sought possession of her mouth, his weight descended 
upon her lower belly, and the first gentle probe of his cock slid 
lengthwise across her vaginal lips.  She gave herself to the sensation; 
she could feel all reason leaving her body -- replaced only by pure 
feeling.  Dick lifted his buttocks back a bit in preparation for this 
first entry.  The throbbing head of it touched her vaginal lips, pushed 
forward and separated the soft yielding pubic hair, and paused there 
beating, beating, beating.  Now he withdrew the head, now he replaced it 
and this time pressed just a trifle deeper.  Oh, God, she thought; it is 
so beautiful.  She could feel her vaginal lubricant oozing around the 
head of his cock.  Now she wanted it deeper.  Instinctively, she had 
reached down there to caress his balls when -- with a terrifying 
suddenness -- the breathless moment was shattered by the loud shrill 
tweet of a police whistle blown only a few yards away.  And the sound of 
it caused Sue's nerves to suddenly scream and react as though a stick of 
dynamite had exploded beneath her.  Simultaneous with the whistle, which 
was the signal from the wagon driver that the evening was at an end, 
there was the sound of a giggle right above them, together with a 
muttered, "Ooops!  Beg pardon." Sally and Harvey were laughing as they 
backed away after stumbling over them in the darkness.  "Didn't mean to 
break in," Harvey's voice said, followed by Sally's hissed "Shut up, 
Harvey."
     Sue put her hands against Dick's chest and pushed him away.  
Frantically, she tugged at her skirt, attempting to pull it down and 
cover her naked loins.  The beautiful moment had fled, and the way her 
nerves were screaming it was probable that it would not return for a 
long time ... if ever.  It was as though she were a child undergoing 
psychological conditioning: Reach out for a pretty vase and receive a 
powerful electrical shock upon contact.  Or an alcoholic reaching for a 
drink in an institution -- a type of don't touch conditioning ... 
brainwashing.
     Her nerve endings were all jangling like a hundred alarm systems 
being shorted out at once.  She wanted to scream.  Just as devastating 
was the embarrassment and humiliation that she felt.  God, how cheap and 
vulgar she must have looked there with her legs spread out like a wanton 
whore.  She covered her eyes and began sobbing quietly.
     Dick, though, was not about to give up that easily.  When he sought 
to pull her skirt up again, she jackknifed her knees beneath him and 
twisted on her side.  "Don't," she commanded, and it was an order not to 
be disobeyed.  "I'm so embarrassed."
     "God, we can't stop now," he groaned.  "It doesn't matter if they 
saw us."
     "It matters to me," and the sobs began coming more rapidly.
     Dick angrily rolled over.  "Oh, shit!" he said very loudly, and got 
to his feet, pulling up his trousers.
     "I'm sorry," she weeped.  "I can't help it."
     "Come on," he said, and it was almost a snarl of contempt, "Get 
up."
     Trembling, Sue stood and then feeling even more embarrassment, 
reached down and attempted to raise her panties; she heard them rip as 
her heel caught the elastic.  Dick had his back to her.  Why, oh why! 
did everything go wrong all of a sudden.  She had wanted him to make 
love to her -- she needed to be made love to.  He had even begun to make 
some penetration.  And then that ... that "damned" police whistle, 
together with Harvey's crude laughter and Sally's knowing eyes.  
Contritely, she completed her dressing, and then said quietly, "Dick."
     He refused to answer.
     She sniffed.  "Dick ... I'm so sorry."
     "Yeah, you acted like it," he mumbled.
     "Well ... I am."
     "Okay," he said, his voice cold and distant, and not giving an 
inch.  "You're sorry.  I'm sorry.  That doesn't make any difference to 
the condition I'm in right now -- the same god-damned condition I've 
been in ever since I met you.  Don't be surprised if you hear tomorrow 
morning that I was arrested for raping someone on the street."
     Sue flared, "It's just as bad for me."
     "I doubt it."
     "What do you mean by that?" she commanded.  "Forget it."
     "No, I won't forget it.  What did you mean?"
     He turned finally and looked down at her.  After a long moment, his 
shoulders slumped, and he sighed in exasperation.  "You can turn it off.  
It's easy.  Look at me, though.  Just look!" He cupped his bulging 
trousers in one hand and clenched his fist tight around it.  "What am I 
supposed to do with this?  Christ!  It hurts a man when he gets all set 
to make love and then nothing happens."
     Sue's retort was cut off by the sound of the police whistle again.  
Someone shouted their names, "Hey Dick ... Sue!  Come on.  Time to go!"
     "Come on," Dick said, roughly grabbing her arm and leading the way 
toward the wagon.  Sue followed him docilely; she was thinking of what 
he said -- about it hurting a man when nothing happens and he's ready.  
Marylou apparently knew the solution to that problem this afternoon with 
Petey.  And at that moment, Sue decided she would "relieve" Dick this 
way, if it would help him.  He would have to make the first move, 
though; she couldn't bring herself to be that bold.
     The ride back on the hay wagon was silent, and the atmosphere 
painfully strained between the two of them.  He made no effort to kiss 
or hold her.  When they got back to the ranch yard, he had assisted her 
down from the wagon and then opened the door to the right side of the 
car -- an obvious invitation to sit on her own side of the car.  Not one 
single word was spoken during the short journey home.  When he pulled 
into the doorway, he kept the motor running while he escorted her to the 
door.
     Sue's emotions were churning; she was torn between embarrassment, 
shame, and anger.
     "Good night," he said, simply nodding his head, and again making no 
effort to kiss her.
     All right, if that's the way you want to play it, to heck with you, 
Mister, Sue thought.  She forced herself to smile, though, and said, 
"Good night, Dick." She put her key into the lock, entered without 
looking at him, and closed the door behind her.  She stood there, heart 
pounding, with her back pressed tightly against the door, until she 
heard the roar of his engine and the screech of his tires as he angrily 
departed.
     "Sue, darling, is that you?" Mrs. Ogden's voice came from the 
living room.
     She sighed, that was all she needed to make the evening a complete 
-- an inquisition.  "It's me, Mother."
     "Come in here, please."
     Sue had no inclination to talk to anyone at the moment; all she 
wanted to do was go upstairs, take a hot shower, and go to bed with her 
own thoughts.
     "Sue?  Are you all right?" Her mother's voice was insistent.
     "Yes, Mother." Sue took off her sweater and put it on the hallway 
bench.  She glanced at her hair to make sure it was clean of hay and not 
too mussed, and checked her clothing for signs of disarray.  Then she 
went into the living room where the older woman stood before the 
fireplace.
     Mrs. Ogden's eyes flickered over her daughter as if she were 
evaluating a stranger's honesty or trustworthiness.  After a moment, she 
blinked and held a tightly wadded handkerchief up to her mouth.
     Puzzled and alarmed, Sue asked, "Mother?  What's happened?  What's 
wrong?"
     Mrs. Ogden seemed reluctant to speak.  Then with big tears looming 
up in her eyes, she reached out for Sue and said, "Oh, darling.  I 
should have told you before, but it was go embarrassing for me." She 
sighed deeply, wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief, and sniffed.  "I 
just didn't want to embarrass you, too.  But I can't avoid it any 
longer."
     "What is it?"
     "Sit down, dear." She motioned to the couch, then sat down beside 
her daughter.  The older woman's face was flushing as she sought to put 
words to an obviously distasteful task.  "I've never spoken to you about 
... about your marriage duties and marriage night.  I must do so before 
you find out for yourself.  This is something a mother must pass on to 
her daughter.  It isn't something you will find in those horribly nasty 
dirty marriage manuals with their filthy pictures and diagrams ... or 
those Communistic sex education classes they tried to put on in the high 
school.  I'm so relieved that my woman's club was instrumental in 
getting rid of all that smut.  After all, this is something that should 
be taught and discussed in the home."
     She was appalled.  This was the last thing she ever expected to 
hear from her usually reserved mother.  The older woman was undergoing 
almost a Jekyll-Hyde transformation as she warmed to her subject.  
Earlier embarrassment had evaporated -- being replaced by something akin 
to hatred and anger.
     Mother said, "I think you know that men and women have different 
reproductive organs."
     Sue was amused in spite of herself, but she realized she must bite 
back her smile.  She wondered what mother would say if daughter was to 
tell her that the first time she had ever seen -- in living colour and 
stereophonic sound -- a full-grown male's erect "reproductive organ" had 
been that afternoon on the couch ... that Mother was sitting on the 
exact spot where Marylou's "reproductive organ" had damped the leather 
some 12 hours earlier ... that Sue's own "reproductive organ" had been 
rubbed by Dick's "reproductive organ" only an hour before.
     Mother continued her lecture.  "May I suggest that you use your ... 
ah ... reproductive organ as just that.  Get pregnant right away, as 
soon as you can, then you won't be bothered by Dick.  Sex, after all, is 
enjoyable only to men; it is something we women must bear with fortitude 
-- no matter how distasteful."
     Sue swallowed, confused.  "But, Mother " she protested, "Sex is 
supposed to be beautiful between a husband and wife."
     The older woman closed her eyes and shook her head.  "Sex is only 
beautiful in that it leads to procreation.  Remember the Bible: it says, 
'Woman submit to your husband.' That word 'submit' means just that.  Sex 
is a cross we women have to bear.  Nothing is fair or equal about it.  
For example, on your wedding night, you will give your virginity to 
Dick.  He will take it joyously.  And what does that gift cause you?  
Not joy!  Pain!  Your hymen will be brutally ripped, the pain will be 
excruciating ... and then you will begin to hemorrhage.  I have even 
heard stories of women bleeding to death on their marriage bed.  Once -- 
you remember? -- I broke my leg and the bone popped out of my skin?"
     She nodded, remembering the afternoon when she was only five years 
old; she'd had nightmares for weeks after seeing the blood, the white 
bone, and hearing the sounds of her mother's screams.
     "You remember how I finally passed out from the agony, and when 
they tried to move me I came to again, and how they had to give me 
morphine to ease the pain?"
     Wide-eyed and wondering, Sue said quietly, "Go on."
     "Well, the pain that afternoon was nothing compared to the agony I 
suffered when your father took my virginity ... even though he tried to 
be gentle.  That, of course, was before he became an insensitive 
alcoholic brute." The older woman's eyes narrowed in recollection.  "It 
was always painful.  It hurt every time he insisted on my performing 
what he called 'marital obligations." She held up her hand as Sue opened 
her mouth to speak.  "Wait, don't interrupt.  My mother suffered the 
same way, and her mother, and her mother's mother before her.  Your poor 
Aunt Margaret!  It is a fact of life you must learn to accept, and that 
is why I say to you, 'get pregnant as soon as you can'."
     Sue was slow putting her thoughts into words, but finally her 
feelings came tumbling out.  "But  ... but don't most women enjoy making 
love with their husbands?"
     "Whores!  And don't disgrace that beautiful word 'love' by using it 
in that filthy context.  'Making love', indeed!  'Making war' would be 
more like it, for the woman is always defeated, degraded, and brutally 
subjected to all types of indignities.  Can you image ... (No, of course 
you can't, and pray God that you'll never have to!) ... what it is like 
to have some foul breathed, wine-swilling, cigar stinking beast crawl 
like a spider over your naked body?" She shuddered from the thought of 
it; and Sue -- watching her mother's genuine horror -- couldn't help 
thinking about what had been said.
     Sue was fairly sure that her mother was telling the truth -- at 
least the truth as the older woman saw it.  Perhaps there was an 
inherited physiological trait that had been passed on through the female 
genes in her mother's family.  She had read and heard about such things.  
Perhaps it was painful!  Maybe there was some almost insignificant 
anatomical or neurological difference in the female line of her family.  
And, abruptly, as the horrifying thought came to her, Sue clutched the 
arm of the couch: Could the trait have been passed on to her?  Would she 
know agony ... instead of passionate enjoyment?  Would she have known 
excruciating pain if Dick had continued his penetration?
     Her mind was a maelstrom of confusion and fear.  There were so many 
questions she wanted to ask now ... and no one to answer them.  Sue 
wanted to ask if Mother had ever enjoyed a male's caresses and fondling, 
but such a question was embarrassing and at that moment almost 
senseless.
     Then, almost as if reading her mind, her mother said, "I think 
almost all women enjoy 'sparking' with a man -- the touch of his hand 
upon your arm," and the older woman blushed, "or a gentle kiss.  The 
body responds, of course.  But the act of sexual intercourse itself is 
degrading." A moment later she began speaking more rapidly -- almost 
irrationally.  "Remember what Saint Augustine wrote, 'Nothing is so much 
to be shunned as sex relations.' And remember what I said.  Sexual 
intercourse should be used only for procreating the race.  Birth is 
painful -- horribly so -- but the act of conception, of mindless 
copulation, is equally painful.  Get pregnant, my darling, as soon as 
you can."
     There was more of the same, but Sue's mind could not absorb any 
more.  Sue knew her mother was wrong -- terribly wrong.  That statement 
about only "whores enjoying sex" was almost pathetic.  Marylou certainly 
was no whore -- nor was Sally.  Then there was Cynthia and Donna, both 
of whom had been friends of Sue's for almost all of her 22 years; both 
had married earlier this summer.  They certainly weren't "whores", but 
they had made some ecstatic reports about what their husbands did to 
them in bed.
     Long after she had gone upstairs, Sue lay awake -- unable to sleep.  
She gradually became more and more certain that her mother was telling 
the truth as she saw it.  It was painful to Mother; it probably was 
agonizing ... to Mother, to Mother's mother, and Aunt Margaret.  If it 
was true, and Sue had absolutely no reason to doubt it, then most 
probably the same thing was inherently wrong with her.  It would be as 
agonizing for her as her ancestors once Dick made full penetration.
     It was a family curse, her confused mind decided; a curse handed 
down from one female to another on her mother's side.
     Down there -- deep within her womb -- she felt her vaginal muscles 
tighten.  It was a though a lock had been put in place ... a lock 
without a key ... a lock that would keep spring and summer out 
forevermore.



Review This Story || Author: Michael Jaeggers
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