A Boy and His dungeon II
Introduction:
Things are beginning to warm up
I woke up at about 7:00, remembering a series of vivid dreams. I took my time in the loo, knowing that I was likely to be sporting a silly grin most of the day and that mother and father were usually out of the house by 7:30.
Downstairs, I had some toast and a cup of coffee and went on down to the dungeon. Yesterday’s trials had pointed out a couple of minor problems in my coding of the machine. I had originally set things up to produce hard copy of the results to help record my progress and, as I was using text in my trials, I had not made any provisions for graphic output.
Soon I was deep in the code, directing the output to the screen with a log file to save everything that came out. I also needed to write a format interpreter to let the machine display non text output. The first was fairly simple, the second was a pain in the arse. The problem was that there were too many options and I wanted code that was as versatile as possible. By 9:00 I had a preliminary solution and sent it to the compiler.
My phone rang with Jennifer’s tone.
“Hey!” I answered.
“Can you pick me up? Mum’s got a delivery coming.” she said in a rush.
“Okay, twenty five minutes?”
“I’ll be waiting.” she rang off.
I ran up the stairs and out to the garage.
As promised, Jennifer was waiting. She ran down the walk as I pulled up.
“I missed you.” she said as she slid into her seat. This morning she wore a Pullover shirt and a pain of modest shorts, chosen to accent her trim figure without being even close to being considered vulgar.
“You look nice.”
She leaned over and gave me a quick hug before fastening her seat belt.
“You missed me? It’s only been, “ I glanced at my watch, “Nine hours twenty nine minutes and forty seconds.” I replied with a grin. “I missed you too.”
She stuck out her tongue impishly. I reached over and took her hand, holding it all the way home. I parked in the garage.
“Going to make me walk all the way around that huge garden?” she asked.
“No need,” I answered, “last night my mother and father didn’t know I was home until I walked through the front door. Today, they’re at work.”
I took her hand, led her through the house and down the inside stairs to the dungeon. Once there, I wasted no time in kissing her. She returned it with enthusiasm. I began to maul her tits, but she almost immediately broke away from me.
“Too fast?” I asked, a bit disappointed.
“Give me a sec.” she replied with a grin, and went through that curious series of contortions I’d seen used by women to remove their bras without exposing themselves.
She tossed her bra on the sofa and came back to my arms. I immediately began to fondle her tits again, feeling her nipples harden under my hands. She pressed herself to me, moaning softly as I paid particular attention to her nipples.
We broke apart for a moment, both breathing heavily.
“We . . . need to . . . uh . . . get some . . . stuff done.” I got out, shaking my head like a wet dog.
“Uh . . . I thought we were . . . doing stuff.” she replied, obviously disappointed.
“And we will do . . . stuff, later. I need to visit the chemist’s before we have . . . an accident.”
“Oh, you’re right,” she said, “I suppose we need to be careful.”
We sat down at the workbench and soon were deep in discussion of the software and where improvements could be made. After two hours of fairly intense work, I could see the that the code would be more compact and probably run quite a bit faster. I picked up one of the hundred pound notes that Gramps had left me.
“Shall we get some lunch?” I asked.
“Good idea,” she said, “and you need to do some shopping.”
“Huh?”
“At the chemist’s.” she said with a grin.
“ Oh, right!”
We left the house and drove into town. I stopped at a chemist’s shop, asked her to wait, and ran inside. I picked up a box condoms with a familiar name I’d seen in some of my magazines and a tube of something called ‘Super Glide’, also recommended in those magazines.
Back in the car, I stuffed the bag into the glove box. With a quick kiss and discrete fondle, I pulled away and headed for the burger shop. We ordered burgers, chips, and cokes. As we waited, we talked quietly.
“James,” she stammered, “When we get back . . . well . . . I don’t . . . I mean . . . I never . . .uh . . .”
“Same for me . . . uh . . . I have seen pictures, and a few . . . videos . . .”
She looked excited and nervous. I suppose I did too. We ate while talking about the project. When we finished, we returned to the dungeon. Jennifer brought the bag, clutching it with both hands.
“Is it okay if we run a few tests first,” I asked, “I want to check a couple of things while it’s all fresh in my mind. And this way I wont be distracted later . . .”
“Okay, but just a few.” she said. “what are they for?”
“Essentially, mapping the brain with the scanners. It ties into phase two.”
I had her stretch out on her chair, with her feet up and the back reclined. I placed the headset on her and started the record recording.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Just relax, I am trying to plot where the brain reacts to stimulus.” I explained.
I set a timer and turned back to her.
“I’m going to touching you here and there while the system monitors.”
I touched the back of her hand, tracing a small circle on her skin. The timer dinged. I moved to her forearm, ding, her upper arm, ding shoulder, ding opposite hand, ding, and so on for her arms legs and face. Although I had purposefully avoided erogenous zones, I could see her nipple standing erect under her shirt.
“I need a spike in the data file, can you pinch yourself, like when you want to make sure you’re not dreaming?” I asked her.
“Do people really do that?”
“I guess some of them must, it’s such a common cliche,” I replied.
“Hold it,” I said, waiting for two dings from the timer, “Now!”
“Ow!” she yelped as she gave herself a hard pinch on the underside of her forearm, a surprisingly sensitive spot.
“Why the wait?” she asked, rubbing the offended bit of flesh.
“Puts sort of flat line on the record, makes the spike stand out better.” I replied, “Ready for more?” I asked, “need to use the loo or anything?”
While she ran upstairs, I covered the chair with an old bed sheet. I saved the session and sent it through the interpreter. I cued up a playlist of soft music.
When she returned I pulled her into a standing hug and kissed while fondling her tits.
“I thought we were doing more tests,” she gasped out, staying only far enough away to allow me to continue with her tits.
“We are,” I replied, “arms up!”
She raised her arms and I quickly pulled off her shirt. Time seemed to stop, for the very first time, I had a full frontal view of her tits. Round and firm, they didn’t sag at all, they were much smaller than those of the magazine models, but on he small frame, they looked voluptuous, and to my eyes, perfect. Her nipples stood out from areolae that were about the size a two pence coin. She reached up to cup her tits, pushing them up and together slightly.
“Are they okay?” she asked, “they’re not very big.”
“They’re perfect,” I breathed, reaching out tentatively, “May I . . .”
“Don’t be silly, you’ve had your hands on them, off and on, most of today.” She giggled, then continued in a mock serious voice, “Yes you may.”
I gently ran my fingertips across that incredibly soft, smooth skin. She gave a little gasp, pushing her tits toward me. I took her nipples between thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing and rolling them about. She moaned softly, her eyes closed as she savored the sensations of her body.
“I could do this all day, but we need to finish the mapping.” I said in a ragged voice, “can you strip down to your panties for me?”
“Huh? What?” she said, obviously distracted.
“I don’t want to stop either.” I said, stepping back, “but we need the tests. We can pick this up in a bit.”
“Promise?” She all but whined.
“Absolutely, do you want a sheet to cover yourself?”
“No, not if it’s just you.”
She quickly took off her shoes and shorts. Looking at her in just her skimpy white panties, I almost couldn’t breathe. I managed to get her back into the chair, despite an almost painful erection. Once there, I started recording and proceeded to touch her lightly, this time on what might be considered erogenous zones.
“Just try to relax and lay still.” I told her.
I stroked the edge of her ears, her lips and neck. Then moved down to her tits and nipples. As I slid my finger down across her waist, she couldn’t keep from giving little gasps and moans. I stroked around her crotch and inner thighs, avoiding touching her mound. Her breathing had become heavy and ragged, at this point she was writhing about so much, I began to doubt how good the data would be.
“Damn it, James!” she suddenly cried, “ If you don’t do something, I’m going to go crazy! Kiss me, or . . . something!”
My last vestige of control left me and leaned down to kiss her and began to maul her tits. She let out a little cry of joy and wrapped her arms around my neck. She seemed to be trying to suck my tongue out of my mouth. I picker her up and moved her to the sofa. I fumbled for the lever that would convert the sofa into occasional bed.
I lay down beside her and reached on hand to her mound. She spread he legs to make it easier for me and arched her back. Her panties were wet, and I gently traced the length of her slit with a finger. She mad a growling sound and freeing one hand from my head pulled the stroking hand hard against her mound.
I broke off the kiss, and licked down her neck. I began to rain kisses on her tits and the took each nipple into my mouth in turn, sucking gently and flicking my tongue against her nipples. Lost in her lust, she arched her entire body to raise her tits to my mouth and grind her sex into my hand at the same time. I slipped my hand inside panties, inserting my finger into her slit. Between the gasps and moans and yelps of pleasure, she found her voice for a moment.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Don’t stop! Don’t ever Stop!” she cried, then started to make a high pitched mewing sound.
I moved my finger up to her nub. As I gently stroked it, her body spasmed for a moment then she was back to writhing almost uncontrollably against me. I moved further down, trailing my tongue across her stomach. I pulled her panties down about an inch, kissing her just above her slit. As she raised her hips to the kiss, I stripped off her panties and ran my tongue through her slit, taking in her taste and scent, I blew my load in my pants. I moved my tongue to her nub, lapping gently.
Her body spasmed briefly again. I took her nub into my mouth, sucking and nipped at gently with my teeth.
Her entire body went rigid, gripping with both arms and legs.
‘Aiiiiiiiieeeeeee!” came a wordless screech through clenched teeth.
I gave her nub a last lick, causing her body to lurch. She caught her fingers in my hair, pulling my head up to hers.
Panting heavily, she whispered to me, “Oh, God! . . . Enough . . . wait . . . no more . . . right now . . . I can’t . . .”
She pulled my lips to hers, kissing me hard, and suddenly went limp in my arms. She was still breathing deeply with a look on her face of complete and utter satisfaction.
“That was . . . amazing,” she got out between breaths, “I never . . . had . . . so much . . .”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.” I responded, “you seemed to be enjoying yourself.” I finished with a grin.
“But you didn’t . . . you know . . .”
“I did, but now I’ll need to clean up a bit.”
But, how? I mean you didn’t . . . uh . . .”
“Your reactions and . . . everything were just too . . . stimulating.” I grinned at her again.
“I feel a bit bad about that, it’s like I had all the fun.” she pouted.
“We’ll have chances to correct that,” I told her.
I folded her into my arms, and just held her. A few moments later her breathing steadied and slowed. She was asleep.
We lay together like that for about twenty minutes before I realized my arm had fallen asleep. I carefully flexed my arm trying to restore circulation without waking her. I probably could have saved the effort, her eyelids fluttered open and she just looked at me with a puzzled expression.
“I guess I dropped off,” she said softly, “how long?”
“Only 20 minutes or so, but now that you are awake, I need you to get up so I can get up. I need to run upstairs.” I told her.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she said, scrambling off the sofa, “I didn’t mean to . . .”
“It’s okay, the mater is urgent, but not yet an emergency.” I told her as I started for the stairs, but stopped to look her up and down.
She was so beautiful.
She saw my look and blushed all the way down to her nipples. I wished for a camera, but I supposed I could make a print from memory later without embarrassing her.
“You’ll find some wet wipes somewhere on the shelves, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I turned and hurried up the stairs.
First stop was the loo, then my room for clean underwear and a track suit. There were enough clothes in my hamper for a wash load, so I bundled it all down to the laundry. I grabbed two cans of cola from the fridge and headed back down. She had dressed and was sitting at the bench when I returned.
She looked worried.
“I hope we didn’t mess things up.” she said.
“What do you mean? I asked, “Mess up what?”
“Well,” she said, holding up the headset, “we forgot to take this off.”
“Oh, that’s okay, it buffers to the hard drive.” I reassured her. We’ll just have a larger data set to work with.”
I stopped the recorder, causing the data to be saved and started the interpreter. This could take a few hours. It was getting late enough that another bout of love making might get us caught, but I wasn’t ready to end our day and just drive her home. While I pondered, Jennifer walked over to me, spinning my chair to face her. She kissed me, then looked me straight in the eyes.
“Some of the girls at school say . . . when they’re with their boyfriends . . they . . . uh . . . use their . . . uh . . . mouth . . . to . . . uh . . . you know.” she stammered out, blushing furiously.
“Jenn, I know what you are trying to say and, yes, I would enjoy that, but,” I lifted her chin to look into her eyes, “You don’t have to force yourself if you don’t want to do that.”
Without another word, she dropped to her knees, and pulled the pants of my track suit down. She gently freed my member from my underwear. Of course, I was hard again. For a long moment she just stared at it, like a mouse might stare at a snake. Then she leaned in and took a long slow breath through her nose.
“You smell nice,” she said, seemingly speaking to my cock rather than me.
I was glad I had taken the time to clean up thoroughly. He gave the tip a cautious lick, causing my cock to jump in her hand. She planted a soft kiss on the tip and proceeded to lick up one side and down the other. She drew me into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head, then pushed her head down on me another inch or so, her teeth scraping lightly along the shaft, and reached up to hold my balls with one hand.
“Gently,” I hissed, “and watch the teeth.”
She hummed an acknowledgment and began to slowly bob her head on my cock. The sensation was better than I could ever have imagined. Her mouth was warm and wet, seeming to mold itself to the shape of me. She slid down, taking even more into her mouth until she gagged a little. She pulled back enough to catch her breath, then slid back down, even deeper than before. I laid one hand on the back of her head with just the lightest pressure to encourage her, fighting myself to not force myself down her throat in one stroke.
She gagged again and pulled back to breathe. Her head went back down, deeper yet. I felt the head of my cock being squeezed. It must have been going into her throat. The sensations were overwhelming. Every muscle in my body seemed to lock up, I could feel the pre cum tightness in my balls.
“Jenn,” I tried to warn her, “I’m going to . . .” and I blew my load down her throat.
She rode out the spasms, pulling back slightly as I finished, then began to lick all around the head, extracting and swallowing the last drops. At each lick I would gasp in a breath, but couldn’t seem to exhale. I was almost a torture of pleasure. I suddenly knew how she must have felt when I licked after her orgasm. I could see a vague darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. I put both hands on her head to pull her away. I sat there breathing hard, marveling at, not just what she had done, but how she had done it.
“Where . . . *pant* . . . did . . . *pant* . . . you . . . *pant* . . . learn to . . . *pant* . . . do that?” I managed to say.
“Did I do it right?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
“I have no idea,” I said, “it’s a first for me. But if it were any more right, you might just suck me to death.”
“First time for me too,” she said, “but I remembered what the other girls said about how to control the gag reflex and how their guys liked ‘deep throat’.”
I pulled her up from the floor and kissed her. For several minutes I just held her and stroked her hair as my breathing finally settled back to normal.
“You are amazing,” I said, “I have never felt anything like that in my life!”
“Then I guess we’re even,” she returned, “I never felt anything like what you did to me earlier either.”
After a few minutes of cuddling together we got up. I straightened my clothes and we straightened up the room a bit. I was already planning for our next time.
We worked a little, but our minds were not on the project.
Later I took her home.
