Untitled Ravenclaw Story
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
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Adult ++
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
22
Views:
4,556
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Year Four: Revealing
(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted except for personal use. JK Rowling owns the Potterverse; I\'m just here to play.
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YEAR FOUR: REVEALING
There\'s adult content up ahead. So you know.
Samantha and I started spending a lot more time together. I hesitate to say that either of us considered it a “dating” or “relationship” situation, but I can’t say I would have been upset about it, either. We would have breakfast apart from our parents, and then, after I got back from the hospital, we would go to the pool, or to the mall, or to a movie, or to a park, or anywhere Samantha thought might be fun. At night we would walk around the hotel or sit in the garden area and chat. Occasionally we’d go to the pool after dark. It just depended upon our moods.
This state of affairs lasted quite comfortably for about ten days. Aunt Natalie was on the mend – she was up and out of bed, moving around in a muggle wheelchair, playing chess and cards with me and Mum. I could still tell she was in pain, but she hid it well. On the eleventh day, though, Da broke me the news at dinner.
“We’re going back home next Saturday,” he said. “The OMI has provided us with airplane tickets.”
I looked over at my mother; she nodded. “There’s not much else we can do here, David. And honestly, Natalie’s getting a little tired of me doting over her so much. She’s done all but say so herself.”
“I know you’re having a good time,” Da added. “But everything comes to an end eventually, which I think you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “I’ll break it to Samantha.”
“I know you like her.” Da actually looked apologetic. “You can keep in touch through letters and phone calls, though. It won’t be the end of the friendship.”
“No, I know.” I took a bite of dinner; I don’t remember what it was we were eating. “It’ll be all right.”
In actuality, it wasn’t. She was pretty upset, and in the past few weeks, I’d learned to read her well enough to know. It was almost like, from that moment on, she stuck with me with a vengeance. We were rarely apart, except for when I would go to the hospital. We started getting back to our rooms later and later.
And there was more kissing. Quite a bit of it. It had actually started the previous Sunday, during a movie I can’t recall; we were the only two people in the theater, and we spent most of the time in the back row with our lips together. She had taught me what it was she liked and expected from a kiss, which I was only too happy to provide. I didn’t expect anything else; I didn’t try to touch her anywhere illicit, or move faster than she wanted to.
This is why women should just allow men to use Legilimency on them. It would make it a lot easier if we knew exactly when the best time would be to make our moves. Instead, we had to guess. Or not guess, and wait for them to do it. If they even wanted to.
Samantha’s the one who made the first move. It was in the pool of all places. I was leaning against the side, in the deep end, one arm holding myself in place and the other around her. Her back was to me, as if we were snuggling. I think we were talking about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup – the American team had been knocked out by Ireland just before we arrived here – when she adjusted her position so her bottom pressed quite firmly against my crotch.
I tried to shift positions, but she wouldn’t let me. Her right leg hooked around mine so there was no possible way for me to hide the fact that I was aroused by what she was doing. I felt the flesh of her bottom give slightly as my erection pressed against it, and she made a contented noise.
That was interesting.
I bent my head closer to her ear. “Samantha, I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I can’t help it.”
She released my leg and turned to face me, her arms going around my waist. “It’s all right,” she whispered, then kissed me, floating close enough that she could put her knees on either side of my hips. “I wanted to feel it.”
During our next kiss, one of her hands stole down between us to touch me through the suit I was wearing. I made a very soft combination of moan and grunt, and she smiled.
Then she pressed herself against me as if she wanted me inside her through our clothes. I felt her nipples grow hard against my chest through the thin material of her suit, and she rested her head on my shoulder. “It’s getting late,” she commented, her breath warm on my neck. “Come down around midnight. The outdoor Jacuzzi. Okay?”
“All right.” I forced a small laugh. “I think perhaps I should take a cold shower first.”
“If you want.” Her hand caressed me again, and I gritted my teeth together. “See you later?”
“Bet on it.” I kissed her again, trying to avoid being insistent as she rubbed me through the suit.
It was not easy.
After dinner – and a quick, frenzied bout of masturbation in the bathroom of my room – I forced myself to calm down. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about anything. But I had definitely taken the Biocontrol Potion, and I kept flicking my eyes to the clock on the bedside every couple of pages.
But time had never passed so slowly. Not even in History of Magic. It was maddening. I kept trying to ignore the fact that I had an erection that didn’t want to go away. I didn’t want to do anything about it – I didn’t know if masturbating too much would lessen my arousal later – so I kept readjusting my position, reminding myself that even idly touching it in passing would be a bad idea. I watched about a third of a golf tournament – pre-taped – on the muggle sports channel; I played cribbage with Da; I even went down to the exercise room and jogged for about half an hour on the treadmill. That last actually helped a bit – at least until I went back upstairs and took a brief shower to wash off the sweat.
Mum and Da didn’t ask where I was going; they were snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie on the pay-per-view channel. I didn’t recognize it. “Not too late,” Da said.
“I’m just going down to swim for a while. Try and tire myself out. I’ve been restless all day.”
“We noticed.” Mum’s head was resting on his chest; she didn’t see the look he gave me. I have a very good feeling he knew why I was so restless. “Keep it quiet when you come in.”
“All right. Good night.”
“’Night.”
I practically skipped to the elevator – okay, not really, but it felt like that – and walked briskly-but-nonchalantly down the hallway that led to the pool. There were a few people indoors, one swimming laps, one doing some sort of strange water aerobics, but very few guests tended to use the outdoor section at night. The sky had been dropping rain at unexpected intervals – not storms, just showers – and I guess no one wanted to chance it.
No one except myself and Samantha, at any rate.
She was already there when I got outside and made my way around the pool. There was a sort of half-wall around the Jacuzzi; I don’t know why. People would occasionally sit on it during the daytime, as Samantha was doing now. Like myself, she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.
I sat down next to her; she turned to me and I kissed her lips gently. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Her voice was still low and throaty, as it had been on that message she’d left me. There was a tremble to it that I didn’t understand, though. “Did your parents give you any shit about coming out so late?”
“No.” I slid an arm around her waist, and she leaned into me. She was very warm. “It’s the summer. I don’t think they think I can get up to anything too terribly nefarious.”
“Nefarious?”
I nodded. “Nefarious.”
“What exactly do you do when you’re back at home that lets them trust you so much?”
I shrugged. “Not a lot, really. I play Quidditch with the Weasleys – they live down the street – or I work on summer assignments with Luna, who’s in my House at school and lives next door. Kind of boring, really.”
“I bet.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. There was no touching going on that couldn’t be considered decorous. I had the experience of what Fiona had done to me at the end of the school year, but I didn’t want to pressure Samantha. I liked her too much – and respected her too much – to do that.
She was the one who broke the ice. “So, are we going in?”
“Sounds good to me.” I slipped off my trainers and pulled my shirt over my head. She bent down and pressed a couple of buttons on a panel next to the edge of the small pool; I heard a motor click on somewhere, and bubbles began forming on the surface. A dim light came on as well, not really enough to be noticeable.
I dipped a toe into the water – it was pleasantly warm, hotter than a bath but not uncomfortably so – and then lowered myself into it. By the time I turned around, Samantha was already on her way in, hissing slightly; she wasn’t as much a fan of hot water as I was, or at least so she’d said.
But I barely noticed.
Throughout the weeks we’d spent together, Samantha had never really shown off a lot of skin, even at the pool. But now she was wearing a white bikini made mostly of strings and triangles of cloth. Her breasts really were rather impressive – and her nipples clearly outlined – and there was no possible way that she hadn’t had to do some judicious trimming between her legs to remain decent, not with the size of those bottoms.
“Do you like it?” she asked as she stood in the middle of the Jacuzzi.
“You won’t think less of me if I say yes, will you?”
She laughed. “No. I got it tonight. I’d never wear it in public, though.”
“You’re one up on me, then. I’d never wear it period. I mean, how would I look in something like that, anyway?”
We both laughed. She came toward me and knelt on my lap, pressing her lips to mine.
By now Samantha and I were comfortable enough with each other to kiss with our mouths open. Her tongue stroked mine; I teased at the inside of her lower lip, which always seemed to make her heart flutter. As I grew erect under her lap, I tried to shift out of the way, but she held me in place. Her hands went to my shoulders. “What are you afraid of?” she asked.
“I… um.” I tried to think of the best way to phrase it. “I don’t want to offend you.”
Her smile flashed in her tanned face; I could see her teeth even in just the dim light coming from underwater. “David, you really are too much for me.”
“Um. Am I?”
Her hand went down to touch me again. “Yes. You are.”
I kissed her again, my hands low on her back. She pressed herself into me, her other hand behind my head. As we kissed, I allowed my hands to drift lower, giving her every opportunity to tell me to stop. But she didn’t, and eventually I was cupping her bottom, feeling the softness of it against my fingers. She ground into me, moving her lips down to my neck. “Samantha?” I said softly.
“Mm?” She kissed the side of my throat. I controlled a shudder.
“There’s not much material back here.”
“I know.”
“Um. Why?”
She stood up and turned around. “I guess you’ve never seen a g-string before?”
I shook my head without realizing she couldn’t see it. I saw every inch of her bottom from less than two feet away – it was a beautiful swell of flesh with a very thin string of white fabric barely visible between her cheeks.
And when she turned back, I got another surprise.
“Samantha… your top…”
She knelt back on top of me, her bottom pressed to my crotch, her back against my chest. “I know,” she said simply. Then she took my hands and placed them under her breasts, on her ribcage.
Even I can take a hint. As slowly as before, I drew them upward until I was cupping her breasts, my fingertips over her nipples. As I brushed them, I heard a quiet, contented moan. I bent my head and licked at the base of Samantha’s neck – her long hair was up off her shoulders in a sort of bun, tendrils of it escaping but the bulk of it out of the way – and she pressed hard into me.
That was new.
I licked her again, and felt her pulse jump and her nipples tighten. My lips ran up and down the top of her spine, and I gently bit at the flesh there. Her moans grew louder, until I felt the need to release one of her breasts and – rather adeptly, I think – place my fingers on her lips to caution her.
When she sucked them into her mouth, it took every last bit of control I had to hold off my own orgasm.
Her hands moved. One went down, her short nails pressed into my right knee. The other went to the hand that was still cupping her breast and began guiding it downward until I felt the fabric of her bottoms. She pressed me against the gentle curve of her stomach – it wasn’t flat; there was a very soft swell below her bellybutton that I found much more exciting – until our fingers went inside the bottoms.
This was the first time I had ever touched a girl between her legs. Strange but true. When Fiona had masturbated in my bed, I hadn’t actually helped much. It was… well, it was new. I knew what I was touching from the lessons Fiona had given me. Samantha’s clitoris was about where I expected it, and I brushed it as I sucked softly at the side of her neck. I could feel her moan through the flesh of her throat, and she shifted on my lap. I allowed my fingers to move lower – she had removed her hand from mine, and was now working at the side of the bottoms with it – and as my middle finger pressed between her lower lips, I felt the confines of the fabric suddenly grow looser.
“Samantha,” I said quietly, “are you certain about that?”
She pressed herself forward, her clit against my palm, before climbing off my lap. She reached down and untied the other side of her bottoms and set them on the edge of the Jacuzzi, next to her top. “Very certain.”
“Um. All right.” I held out my hand to her and as she took it I allowed myself to drift off the bench built into the small pool until we were both standing crouched in the bubbling water. “Do you want me to… um…”
“Only if you want to.”
“It only seems fair.” My hands went to my waistband and I toyed with it a moment before sliding my suit down in a quick movement, before I could change my mind. I set it next to hers, and we embraced each other.
It felt very different to be naked and this close to Samantha. I felt the softness of the skin between her legs combined with the small amount of hair she still had there as it pressed against the top of my shaft; I felt the pliant flesh of her breasts contrast with the tight hardness of her nipples as she held her chest to mine; I felt her hands run over my back, reaching down to cup my ass before she brought her nails up to my shoulders; I felt the liquid heat of her mouth as she kissed me insistently.
I kissed her back just as hard, as if we were trying to eat each other from the mouth down. She wriggled around, brushing me against her opening, before we finally separated.
Words became unnecessary for the moment as she reached down and, for the first time without clothing in the way, let her hand encircle me.
Let me get this out of the way, for comparison’s sake. Occasionally, in the dormitory, we’ll see each other without clothes on. I know for a fact that Stephen of all people was the best-endowed in our year. But I also know that I was thicker than him, even if he was longer. We didn’t play any silly comparative games; we were all kind of decorous about it – except Kev, of course – but a quick bit of mental estimation put Stephen at about nine inches and me about two below that.
I don’t think Samantha minded. She was more impressed that it took an effort of will to get her fingers to meet as her hand went round. Her eyes locked with mine as she slowly started to stroke, shifting her grip to hold on tighter.
This was different from what Fiona had done. Even when she was using her hands on me, she hadn’t been rough about it. But I got the feeling that Samantha was at a loss for what to do. She was moving somewhat mechanically – not that it didn’t feel good – and somewhat more jerkily than what I was used to.
I didn’t stop her, though. I didn’t want to spoil the moment. I simply accepted it for what it was and allowed myself to caress her breasts gently, cupping them and running my thumbs over her nipples. She squeezed hard, but stopped moving, her head going back; I took that as my opportunity to lean forward and run my lips down her neck. When she raised up out of the water, I drew my lips down her left breast to take her nipple into my mouth.
I can’t believe that a seventeen-year-old American girl hadn’t had this done before, but from the way she reacted – hand in my hair, holding me to her chest – either no one had bothered, or no one had done it right. I took her nipple gently in my teeth and flicked my tongue over the tip of it; I sucked softly; I released it and used the blade of my tongue on the underside of her breast. Then I shifted to the other side, and she moaned again, her nails pressing into my shoulder.
When I released her and stood up to take her in my arms again, she actually held off from kissing me because she was trying to catch her breath. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, her eyes shining as she looked at me. “I’m okay. Just surprised.”
“Why? I would think…”
“Yeah, me too.” She moved into me, and we held each other. I did my best to ignore the fact that the flesh of her stomach was very soft against the underside of my penis. “Most guys just start pinching and turning. They’re not gentle. You’re gentle.”
“Well, I mean… it’s not like I can tune you into the wireless or anything.” I chuckled. “Why would I pinch or turn?”
Samantha shifted in my arms, turning around, and I sat back down – the bench felt odd against my naked ass – with her on my lap. I was quite hard, but both of us were ignoring that for the moment. “It must be an American thing,” she said, leaning her head back. I leaned forward, my cheek against hers. “They do that for a minute or two, and then they expect me to suck them off or fuck them.”
“And… um. Have you?”
“Fucked them or sucked them?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said. She shifted so that I was pressed between her lips, and she started sliding them over the top of my shaft. “I did give head to one guy, but he was rough. He kept trying to fuck my mouth. Bruised my lips. Made me gag.”
I made a small noise at the back of my throat. “You’d think he’d be more appreciative.”
“Yeah. But I’m still a virgin where it counts.” She reached down and pressed her fingers into the underside of my penis, the head of it just barely slipping into her. “Here.”
Oh God.
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A/N: Have you ever heard the phrase \"bait and switch\"? Well, get ready for it.
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YEAR FOUR: REVEALING
There\'s adult content up ahead. So you know.
Samantha and I started spending a lot more time together. I hesitate to say that either of us considered it a “dating” or “relationship” situation, but I can’t say I would have been upset about it, either. We would have breakfast apart from our parents, and then, after I got back from the hospital, we would go to the pool, or to the mall, or to a movie, or to a park, or anywhere Samantha thought might be fun. At night we would walk around the hotel or sit in the garden area and chat. Occasionally we’d go to the pool after dark. It just depended upon our moods.
This state of affairs lasted quite comfortably for about ten days. Aunt Natalie was on the mend – she was up and out of bed, moving around in a muggle wheelchair, playing chess and cards with me and Mum. I could still tell she was in pain, but she hid it well. On the eleventh day, though, Da broke me the news at dinner.
“We’re going back home next Saturday,” he said. “The OMI has provided us with airplane tickets.”
I looked over at my mother; she nodded. “There’s not much else we can do here, David. And honestly, Natalie’s getting a little tired of me doting over her so much. She’s done all but say so herself.”
“I know you’re having a good time,” Da added. “But everything comes to an end eventually, which I think you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “I’ll break it to Samantha.”
“I know you like her.” Da actually looked apologetic. “You can keep in touch through letters and phone calls, though. It won’t be the end of the friendship.”
“No, I know.” I took a bite of dinner; I don’t remember what it was we were eating. “It’ll be all right.”
In actuality, it wasn’t. She was pretty upset, and in the past few weeks, I’d learned to read her well enough to know. It was almost like, from that moment on, she stuck with me with a vengeance. We were rarely apart, except for when I would go to the hospital. We started getting back to our rooms later and later.
And there was more kissing. Quite a bit of it. It had actually started the previous Sunday, during a movie I can’t recall; we were the only two people in the theater, and we spent most of the time in the back row with our lips together. She had taught me what it was she liked and expected from a kiss, which I was only too happy to provide. I didn’t expect anything else; I didn’t try to touch her anywhere illicit, or move faster than she wanted to.
This is why women should just allow men to use Legilimency on them. It would make it a lot easier if we knew exactly when the best time would be to make our moves. Instead, we had to guess. Or not guess, and wait for them to do it. If they even wanted to.
Samantha’s the one who made the first move. It was in the pool of all places. I was leaning against the side, in the deep end, one arm holding myself in place and the other around her. Her back was to me, as if we were snuggling. I think we were talking about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup – the American team had been knocked out by Ireland just before we arrived here – when she adjusted her position so her bottom pressed quite firmly against my crotch.
I tried to shift positions, but she wouldn’t let me. Her right leg hooked around mine so there was no possible way for me to hide the fact that I was aroused by what she was doing. I felt the flesh of her bottom give slightly as my erection pressed against it, and she made a contented noise.
That was interesting.
I bent my head closer to her ear. “Samantha, I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I can’t help it.”
She released my leg and turned to face me, her arms going around my waist. “It’s all right,” she whispered, then kissed me, floating close enough that she could put her knees on either side of my hips. “I wanted to feel it.”
During our next kiss, one of her hands stole down between us to touch me through the suit I was wearing. I made a very soft combination of moan and grunt, and she smiled.
Then she pressed herself against me as if she wanted me inside her through our clothes. I felt her nipples grow hard against my chest through the thin material of her suit, and she rested her head on my shoulder. “It’s getting late,” she commented, her breath warm on my neck. “Come down around midnight. The outdoor Jacuzzi. Okay?”
“All right.” I forced a small laugh. “I think perhaps I should take a cold shower first.”
“If you want.” Her hand caressed me again, and I gritted my teeth together. “See you later?”
“Bet on it.” I kissed her again, trying to avoid being insistent as she rubbed me through the suit.
It was not easy.
After dinner – and a quick, frenzied bout of masturbation in the bathroom of my room – I forced myself to calm down. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about anything. But I had definitely taken the Biocontrol Potion, and I kept flicking my eyes to the clock on the bedside every couple of pages.
But time had never passed so slowly. Not even in History of Magic. It was maddening. I kept trying to ignore the fact that I had an erection that didn’t want to go away. I didn’t want to do anything about it – I didn’t know if masturbating too much would lessen my arousal later – so I kept readjusting my position, reminding myself that even idly touching it in passing would be a bad idea. I watched about a third of a golf tournament – pre-taped – on the muggle sports channel; I played cribbage with Da; I even went down to the exercise room and jogged for about half an hour on the treadmill. That last actually helped a bit – at least until I went back upstairs and took a brief shower to wash off the sweat.
Mum and Da didn’t ask where I was going; they were snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie on the pay-per-view channel. I didn’t recognize it. “Not too late,” Da said.
“I’m just going down to swim for a while. Try and tire myself out. I’ve been restless all day.”
“We noticed.” Mum’s head was resting on his chest; she didn’t see the look he gave me. I have a very good feeling he knew why I was so restless. “Keep it quiet when you come in.”
“All right. Good night.”
“’Night.”
I practically skipped to the elevator – okay, not really, but it felt like that – and walked briskly-but-nonchalantly down the hallway that led to the pool. There were a few people indoors, one swimming laps, one doing some sort of strange water aerobics, but very few guests tended to use the outdoor section at night. The sky had been dropping rain at unexpected intervals – not storms, just showers – and I guess no one wanted to chance it.
No one except myself and Samantha, at any rate.
She was already there when I got outside and made my way around the pool. There was a sort of half-wall around the Jacuzzi; I don’t know why. People would occasionally sit on it during the daytime, as Samantha was doing now. Like myself, she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.
I sat down next to her; she turned to me and I kissed her lips gently. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Her voice was still low and throaty, as it had been on that message she’d left me. There was a tremble to it that I didn’t understand, though. “Did your parents give you any shit about coming out so late?”
“No.” I slid an arm around her waist, and she leaned into me. She was very warm. “It’s the summer. I don’t think they think I can get up to anything too terribly nefarious.”
“Nefarious?”
I nodded. “Nefarious.”
“What exactly do you do when you’re back at home that lets them trust you so much?”
I shrugged. “Not a lot, really. I play Quidditch with the Weasleys – they live down the street – or I work on summer assignments with Luna, who’s in my House at school and lives next door. Kind of boring, really.”
“I bet.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. There was no touching going on that couldn’t be considered decorous. I had the experience of what Fiona had done to me at the end of the school year, but I didn’t want to pressure Samantha. I liked her too much – and respected her too much – to do that.
She was the one who broke the ice. “So, are we going in?”
“Sounds good to me.” I slipped off my trainers and pulled my shirt over my head. She bent down and pressed a couple of buttons on a panel next to the edge of the small pool; I heard a motor click on somewhere, and bubbles began forming on the surface. A dim light came on as well, not really enough to be noticeable.
I dipped a toe into the water – it was pleasantly warm, hotter than a bath but not uncomfortably so – and then lowered myself into it. By the time I turned around, Samantha was already on her way in, hissing slightly; she wasn’t as much a fan of hot water as I was, or at least so she’d said.
But I barely noticed.
Throughout the weeks we’d spent together, Samantha had never really shown off a lot of skin, even at the pool. But now she was wearing a white bikini made mostly of strings and triangles of cloth. Her breasts really were rather impressive – and her nipples clearly outlined – and there was no possible way that she hadn’t had to do some judicious trimming between her legs to remain decent, not with the size of those bottoms.
“Do you like it?” she asked as she stood in the middle of the Jacuzzi.
“You won’t think less of me if I say yes, will you?”
She laughed. “No. I got it tonight. I’d never wear it in public, though.”
“You’re one up on me, then. I’d never wear it period. I mean, how would I look in something like that, anyway?”
We both laughed. She came toward me and knelt on my lap, pressing her lips to mine.
By now Samantha and I were comfortable enough with each other to kiss with our mouths open. Her tongue stroked mine; I teased at the inside of her lower lip, which always seemed to make her heart flutter. As I grew erect under her lap, I tried to shift out of the way, but she held me in place. Her hands went to my shoulders. “What are you afraid of?” she asked.
“I… um.” I tried to think of the best way to phrase it. “I don’t want to offend you.”
Her smile flashed in her tanned face; I could see her teeth even in just the dim light coming from underwater. “David, you really are too much for me.”
“Um. Am I?”
Her hand went down to touch me again. “Yes. You are.”
I kissed her again, my hands low on her back. She pressed herself into me, her other hand behind my head. As we kissed, I allowed my hands to drift lower, giving her every opportunity to tell me to stop. But she didn’t, and eventually I was cupping her bottom, feeling the softness of it against my fingers. She ground into me, moving her lips down to my neck. “Samantha?” I said softly.
“Mm?” She kissed the side of my throat. I controlled a shudder.
“There’s not much material back here.”
“I know.”
“Um. Why?”
She stood up and turned around. “I guess you’ve never seen a g-string before?”
I shook my head without realizing she couldn’t see it. I saw every inch of her bottom from less than two feet away – it was a beautiful swell of flesh with a very thin string of white fabric barely visible between her cheeks.
And when she turned back, I got another surprise.
“Samantha… your top…”
She knelt back on top of me, her bottom pressed to my crotch, her back against my chest. “I know,” she said simply. Then she took my hands and placed them under her breasts, on her ribcage.
Even I can take a hint. As slowly as before, I drew them upward until I was cupping her breasts, my fingertips over her nipples. As I brushed them, I heard a quiet, contented moan. I bent my head and licked at the base of Samantha’s neck – her long hair was up off her shoulders in a sort of bun, tendrils of it escaping but the bulk of it out of the way – and she pressed hard into me.
That was new.
I licked her again, and felt her pulse jump and her nipples tighten. My lips ran up and down the top of her spine, and I gently bit at the flesh there. Her moans grew louder, until I felt the need to release one of her breasts and – rather adeptly, I think – place my fingers on her lips to caution her.
When she sucked them into her mouth, it took every last bit of control I had to hold off my own orgasm.
Her hands moved. One went down, her short nails pressed into my right knee. The other went to the hand that was still cupping her breast and began guiding it downward until I felt the fabric of her bottoms. She pressed me against the gentle curve of her stomach – it wasn’t flat; there was a very soft swell below her bellybutton that I found much more exciting – until our fingers went inside the bottoms.
This was the first time I had ever touched a girl between her legs. Strange but true. When Fiona had masturbated in my bed, I hadn’t actually helped much. It was… well, it was new. I knew what I was touching from the lessons Fiona had given me. Samantha’s clitoris was about where I expected it, and I brushed it as I sucked softly at the side of her neck. I could feel her moan through the flesh of her throat, and she shifted on my lap. I allowed my fingers to move lower – she had removed her hand from mine, and was now working at the side of the bottoms with it – and as my middle finger pressed between her lower lips, I felt the confines of the fabric suddenly grow looser.
“Samantha,” I said quietly, “are you certain about that?”
She pressed herself forward, her clit against my palm, before climbing off my lap. She reached down and untied the other side of her bottoms and set them on the edge of the Jacuzzi, next to her top. “Very certain.”
“Um. All right.” I held out my hand to her and as she took it I allowed myself to drift off the bench built into the small pool until we were both standing crouched in the bubbling water. “Do you want me to… um…”
“Only if you want to.”
“It only seems fair.” My hands went to my waistband and I toyed with it a moment before sliding my suit down in a quick movement, before I could change my mind. I set it next to hers, and we embraced each other.
It felt very different to be naked and this close to Samantha. I felt the softness of the skin between her legs combined with the small amount of hair she still had there as it pressed against the top of my shaft; I felt the pliant flesh of her breasts contrast with the tight hardness of her nipples as she held her chest to mine; I felt her hands run over my back, reaching down to cup my ass before she brought her nails up to my shoulders; I felt the liquid heat of her mouth as she kissed me insistently.
I kissed her back just as hard, as if we were trying to eat each other from the mouth down. She wriggled around, brushing me against her opening, before we finally separated.
Words became unnecessary for the moment as she reached down and, for the first time without clothing in the way, let her hand encircle me.
Let me get this out of the way, for comparison’s sake. Occasionally, in the dormitory, we’ll see each other without clothes on. I know for a fact that Stephen of all people was the best-endowed in our year. But I also know that I was thicker than him, even if he was longer. We didn’t play any silly comparative games; we were all kind of decorous about it – except Kev, of course – but a quick bit of mental estimation put Stephen at about nine inches and me about two below that.
I don’t think Samantha minded. She was more impressed that it took an effort of will to get her fingers to meet as her hand went round. Her eyes locked with mine as she slowly started to stroke, shifting her grip to hold on tighter.
This was different from what Fiona had done. Even when she was using her hands on me, she hadn’t been rough about it. But I got the feeling that Samantha was at a loss for what to do. She was moving somewhat mechanically – not that it didn’t feel good – and somewhat more jerkily than what I was used to.
I didn’t stop her, though. I didn’t want to spoil the moment. I simply accepted it for what it was and allowed myself to caress her breasts gently, cupping them and running my thumbs over her nipples. She squeezed hard, but stopped moving, her head going back; I took that as my opportunity to lean forward and run my lips down her neck. When she raised up out of the water, I drew my lips down her left breast to take her nipple into my mouth.
I can’t believe that a seventeen-year-old American girl hadn’t had this done before, but from the way she reacted – hand in my hair, holding me to her chest – either no one had bothered, or no one had done it right. I took her nipple gently in my teeth and flicked my tongue over the tip of it; I sucked softly; I released it and used the blade of my tongue on the underside of her breast. Then I shifted to the other side, and she moaned again, her nails pressing into my shoulder.
When I released her and stood up to take her in my arms again, she actually held off from kissing me because she was trying to catch her breath. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, her eyes shining as she looked at me. “I’m okay. Just surprised.”
“Why? I would think…”
“Yeah, me too.” She moved into me, and we held each other. I did my best to ignore the fact that the flesh of her stomach was very soft against the underside of my penis. “Most guys just start pinching and turning. They’re not gentle. You’re gentle.”
“Well, I mean… it’s not like I can tune you into the wireless or anything.” I chuckled. “Why would I pinch or turn?”
Samantha shifted in my arms, turning around, and I sat back down – the bench felt odd against my naked ass – with her on my lap. I was quite hard, but both of us were ignoring that for the moment. “It must be an American thing,” she said, leaning her head back. I leaned forward, my cheek against hers. “They do that for a minute or two, and then they expect me to suck them off or fuck them.”
“And… um. Have you?”
“Fucked them or sucked them?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said. She shifted so that I was pressed between her lips, and she started sliding them over the top of my shaft. “I did give head to one guy, but he was rough. He kept trying to fuck my mouth. Bruised my lips. Made me gag.”
I made a small noise at the back of my throat. “You’d think he’d be more appreciative.”
“Yeah. But I’m still a virgin where it counts.” She reached down and pressed her fingers into the underside of my penis, the head of it just barely slipping into her. “Here.”
Oh God.
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A/N: Have you ever heard the phrase \"bait and switch\"? Well, get ready for it.