A Quiet Friday – Her Story (Parts 1 and 2)

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Dave wanted to ‘go all the way’, but fearful of getting knocked-up, I didn’t. We were both horny as hell, but I was unsure of myself and distrustful of him. Even so, had he shown up with a fresh box of Trojans and I was in the mood, he would have gotten his way.

We’d been making out and petting for months, but he was awkward and clumsy. He loved to get his hand in my panties, but he fumbled around down there and never came close to getting me off. Then, one afternoon he painfully deflowered me with his over-anxious fingers, totally oblivious to what he had done. That was the last straw. I dumped him.

I wanted a new boyfriend, but first I needed to know more about sex, particularly what I wanted and should expect. Kathy and I played around with her mother’s dildo, but I wanted the real thing attached to a real person, a man who knew how make love and would patiently show me how to make love to him. The deal would be, he’d take pleasure from my body and I’d get an education. In my fantasy, he’d be mature, thoughtful, kind, loving and gentle – maybe a young married man who just wanted a little extra sex. When I started looking around; teachers at school, neighbors and men I knew at church, I kept coming up empty. But then, there was my brother-in-law, Robert. He certainly knew how to make love from what my sister told me before they were married. He’d been lusting after me forever. I enjoyed ‘coming-on’ to him, just for the cheap thrills. But he was a gentle soul, so my biggest concern was whether, given the chance, he would actually do it. Beyond that, he and my sister lived 40 miles away, so I saw them maybe once a month and never had more than a few moments alone with him. Nonetheless, I convinced myself that he was the one, and started fantasizing about him.

Every four weeks, my parents drove upstate to visit my brother who was in prison. For me that meant an all day car ride on Saturday, overnight on an uncomfortable cot in a cheap motel-room, an hour-long visit on Sunday morning and then the long ride home – a miserable way to spend a weekend.

This time, my parents decided to take Friday off, so they could visit twice and have a full day’s rest between the long drives. I bristled at three days of ‘prison duty’. So, I tried to convince them to let me stay home. But, my mother refused. Weeks earlier, she’d caught Dave with his hand in my pants, and after what happened with Barb, there was no way she’d risk it.

Knowing Robert was finished with school for the year, I had a flash of inspiration that would kill two birds with one stone. I made a call to my sister Barb, half-pretending desperation. As I hoped, hearing my ‘prison duty’ plight she came to my rescue, offering to let me stay at their house for the weekend. My mother agreed and everything was set for Thursday night.

I couldn’t believe I had pulled it off. Barb would be working on Friday, unlikely to waste a vacation-day babysitting her younger sister. That meant I’d have Robert to myself. All day.

I spoke to Barbara on the phone Wednesday night. She asked if I was OK being ‘home alone’ with Robert on Friday. I assured her I was a big girl and could take care of myself.

Barb replied, “Well, don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for him tomorrow night that’ll slow him down. It’ll make Friday a lot easier for you…and for him.”

“Whatever. Do what you want, but don’t worry about me.”

I was surprised she talked so openly. She hadn’t said a word about their sex-life since they’d married. Before that she told me lots of stories. I began realized how little I knew about men, and how ill prepared I was to seduce him or get him to do what I wanted once I did.

An even bigger problem still loomed. I needed to get contraceptives. Barb was on the pill, so it was unlikely Robert would be ‘prepared’. Condoms were still kept behind the drug-store counter. Thursday afternoon, I summoned my courage to ask the pharmacist for a box. But, I didn’t know how much they cost, or what questions he might ask. I tried to wait for the other customers to leave, but when the store never emptied, I began feeling conspicuous and lost my nerve. Now, my only hope was that Robert would have some from before Barb went on the pill.

Thursday Night

When my parents dropped me off, Barb greeted me at the door and helped me get settled in the front bedroom. After some small talk, she lowered her voice saying that Robert was in the parlor and assuring me,

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you, I’m gonna ‘drain his tank’ tonight.”

I must have looked surprised so she added, “We both know how much of a pain Robert can be when he’s horny. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with THAT tomorrow, so I’m gonna ‘take care of him’ tonight and, ” she smiled knowingly, “maybe even get him to put a ‘little something in the oven’ for me.” I smiled and pretended to understand.

But, I couldn’t help asking, “What are you gonna do to him?”

She seemed eager to tell me, “Oh. Don’t worry, It’s not gonna hurt him. I’m just gonna have some fun with him. I’ve got some special treats for tonight. He’s gonna come like a mule and when I’m done with him there’s gonna be nothing left to get him horny tomorrow.” she paused, “So, he’ll be as sweet and docile as a neutered kitten and won’t give you any trouble.”

That ended our conversation and I wondered why she felt the need to tell me. She always liked to brag about her ability to manipulate Robert. But, I wondered if she suspected my plans, and was hoping to discourage me. If that was her goal, she succeeded! She’d convinced me that I’d be spending tomorrow with a ‘sweet and docile little kitten’.

I already had doubts about seduction and worries that he wouldn’t have the nerve. Now, all my hopes seemed to evaporate, as I envisioned him being sexually defanged by my sister. How depressing!

In the parlor, Robert greeted me by offering a glass of wine. We were briefly alone while Barb was in the kitchen getting snacks. My spirits were momentarily revived by a spark of sexual energy I felt as he handed me a wine-glass and filled it.

I chided, “Serving alcohol to underage girls?”

He parried, “Of course … easier to have my way with them.”

I teased, “Don’t be surprised if the ladies have plans, too.”

“And what plans might you have?”

I feigned innocence, saying, “Oh no, not me! It’s the lady of the house who has big plans for you.”

Barb rejoined us and the conversation instantly changed to safer topics. My depression settled in on me again and the wine had its effect. It wasn’t all that late, but I was feeling sleepy – and worried. So, I excused myself to shower and go to bed.

Drying-off, I noticed a carefully folded tissue on the top of the wastebasket. When I looked more closely, I saw several others just like it, further down. It wasn’t hard to guess and I couldn’t resist unwrapping it. I knew about condoms, but I’d never actually seen one. I re-wrapped it and put it in the pocket of my bathrobe. When I finished drying, I went to my bedroom and closed the door. It felt good knowing contraception wouldn’t be a problem, but Barb was on the pill, so why a condom? Whatever the reason, they were in the house. I never held one before. It was longer and bigger than I expected, slippery and so thin it was translucent. Held by the end, it hung heavy with a tablespoon of milky-liquid at the tip. Also, something I’d never seen before. Now I felt giddy and was getting aroused just holding a prophylactic with its dangerous contents. I put out the light and masturbated myself to sleep.

It was dark when I was awakened by sounds; Robert straining and calling Barbara’s name. I knew what it was, even though it was the first time I’d ever heard a man have an orgasm. There was a long pause, but then I heard them at it again. This time, I couldn’t make out what was said, but I’m pretty sure he had another orgasm. After that, soft talk and then, silence. I held my breath listening intently for something more, but heard nothing before drifting off to sleep again.

Friday Morning

I was awake when Barbara left for work. Robert and I were alone. The day of seduction. I got up and put on my robe, intending to crawl into bed next to him, but just outside his bedroom door, some instinct told me it was all wrong and would end in disaster. So, I lost my nerve and diverted to the bathroom. Thinking about what to do next, I noticed a new ‘little package’ on top of the wastebasket. Unwrapped, it was unlike the one from last night, and filled with even more semen. I thought about Barb ‘draining his tank’ and I wondered how frisky he’d be.

I tiptoed back to my bedroom with my new treasure, wondering why there hadn’t been two. But once inside, I turned my attention to the latex-semen scent, which has been imprinted on me as the ‘smell of sex’ ever since. Holding it close, I inhaled deep, intending to get myself aroused. But then, I heard Robert getting up. A few minutes later, he was out on the porch opening a newspaper, just outside my window.

I was still intoxicated with his scent and having lost my nerve to seduce him, I couldn’t resist the urge for a little relief – resigning myself to shameful solo sex. I closed my eyes and imagined him making love to me, his lips touching mine, penetrating me. Lost in my fantasy, I was unaware of anything until I was distracted by a noise from the porch. I’d almost forgotten that Robert was there and wondered what he’d heard. Holding my breath I waited a long while, before continuing. But, then I realized that if I had the orgasm I was expecting, he’d hear me for sure and know what I was up to. So. if I wanted to make my move later, I had better forgo a little pleasure now.

I called out, “Are you out on the porch?”

He didn’t answer right away, but finally said, “Yes. I’m having coffee and reading the paper.” I was relieved, until he added, “What have you been doing?”

Oh, shit! Had he heard me? I feigned innocence,

“What d’ ya mean?”

Then, I almost died, when he said,

“Sounded like you were masturbating. No?”

I was speechless, ashamed, mortified! He knew. He’d heard everything. Had I spoken his name out loud in my fantasy? I couldn’t think what to say except,

“No. No, I’m not!”

I was so embarrassed, I could hardly breathe. How could I ever look him in the face again? My fantasy of a sexy ‘day-of-seduction’ instantly evaporated. I imagined staying in the bedroom all day in shame!

But, then he said, “Well, then get dressed and come have some coffee.”

I couldn’t tell if he was accepting my denial or ignoring it. In any case, I couldn’t hide forever. Might as well deal with this now. So I gathered myself, put away my new toy, and went to the bathroom to brush my hair and pull myself together. Coffee in hand, I slinked out onto the porch. Unable to look at him, I stared at my coffee hoping he would change the subject.

Instead he said, “Look. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone does it—guys, girls, old, young—everyone.”

His condescending tone made me angry.

“Yeah?” I spit out venomously, “You?!”

He calmly answered, “Yeah, whenever I feel the need.”

His answer, so natural and honest, disarmed me. All I could think to say was,

“Well. Don’t tell my sister. OK?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re married. Don’t you tell her everything?”

“Of course, but not absolutely everything. I’m sure she has some little secrets, too.”

After a long pause, he added softly, “Susan, I know this is awkward. So, let’s just keep it to ourselves. OK?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

A wave of relief swept though me and my residual anger was dissipated by his equanimity. Still, I wondered why he wanted to sit and listen. Perhaps he just didn’t think it was a big deal.

We sat silently drinking our coffee for several minutes. Robert looked out at the garden, and I was feeling better. Maybe the little secret we had just shared would play into my hopes for the day. I just needed to keep him talking about sex. I was trying to think of something to say, when he said,

“When you shared a bedroom with Barb, didn’t she hear you?”

“No. I was too young. I hadn’t started.”

He ventured on, “Had she?”

“Had she what?”

“I mean, didn’t she masturbate when you shared a room?”

“Why?”

“Just curious. She’s never let me watch her.”

I was loving this. He talked so easily about sex. If we could talk about it, we could do it. Perhaps my plans for today weren’t lost after all.

“Pretty much every night. She’d wait until she thought I was asleep, but I liked listening, particularly at the end when she would try to stifle her orgasm.”

I felt a little rush saying the “O” word.

He calmly asked, “And, what about you?”

“Listening to her made me want to try it.” I explained. “When Barb started high school, she left for school earlier. I had a little time in the morning to experiment. It wasn’t hard to figure out. How about you? When did you start?”

“When I joined scouts, the older boys showed me. We took turns watching each other jerk off in an old easy chair in the basement of one of the buildings on my street. We liked to compare how far we could shoot. One time, we invited the neighborhood girls to watch. They squealed and giggled each time one of us shot our load part way across the room.”

He added, “Speaking about ‘getting started’, that reminds me that you never had a chance to ‘finish’ this morning. You must be feeling pretty frustrated. I know I’d be.”

This caught me by surprise. I was still thinking about spurts of semen shooting across the room.

“No. It’s all right. I’m fine.”

He countered, “It’s not even 8:30. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to go back to bed and finish up.”

I couldn’t believe how casual he was. “Finish up” sounded like nothing more than washing a few dishes. Letting him listen to me masturbating was not what I had in mind and shot back with an edge in my voice,

“Oh sure! I finish my business—while you listen!”

He calmly replied, “Yeah. I’d love to hear your orgasm. Would you mind if I did?”

“Ewww. No way! That’s sick!”

He simply said, “OK. Then don’t.”

My heart sank. This was an emotional roller coaster, but I wanted to keep it going. So, I asked,

“And, if I do, what’s in it for me?”

He calmly asked what I wanted.

If he only knew, but I was afraid to say it and had to think fast.

“OK.” I paused, “When I’m done, I want you to go inside and masturbate for me.” I looked up at him, “Deal?”

He agreed. And that was that.

But, then he sweetened the deal. He’d let me watch. I accepted his offer. He had invited me into the bedroom to watch him jerk-off. Perfect! I was sure it would never get that far. Once we were both in the bedroom, he’d make his move and I’d get what I really wanted. I couldn’t believe it. I’d done it. It was so easy.

He was hooked and I could take my time reeling him in. I made him promise not to hold anything back and when he agreed, I worried out loud that the neighbors might hear us. He suggested we both sit it in the bedroom with closed windows and drawn shades. I agreed. He would sit on the bentwood rocker facing away and I could watch him from wherever I wanted. Finally, he solemnly promised there’d be no touching or physical contact. He sounded so sincere. And, if that was what he wanted to believe, why not. It was actually kind of sweet. We sat silently finishing our coffee, as I fantasized. I felt my panties getting wet and summoned the courage to put my hand on his.

“C’mon Robert. You ready?”

To the Bedroom

He put down his cup and I led him into the house. My heart was pounding, as he closed the front door. He double locked it, while I closed windows and drew shades. When he came into the bedroom, I pointed to the rocking chair. He took his place. I quickly undressed and got under the sheet. He’d need a condom to make his move, but I trusted him to take care of that. So, I closed my eyes and began baiting my honey-pot for him.

I asked, “How come you never watched Barb?”

“She’s kind of shy. But, she lets me get her off.”

“She liked it, when you were still dating.”

“How do YOU know?”

“Sisters share everything.”

Then he said faux-sternly, “OK, Susan. That’s enough chit-chat … down to business. I wanna hear you come. So, just close your eyes and think about your boyfriend.”

My pussy was ready. I hoped my scent was filling the room and waited for him to react. I was just passing time, sliding my finger up and down, poking at my vagina each time, imagining his cock poised to enter me. I faked the kind of sounds I thought he’d be expecting and waited for him to pounce. How could he resist. What more could I do to lure him.

“Robert. It’s not working. I need some help.”

That was his cue! But, to my dismay he said, “Look. If I’m a distraction, we can forget the whole thing. I’ll just go outside, so you can finish. I won’t hear anything with the windows closed.”

So close to seducing him and he was about to get away!

“No. No. Wait. I was close, but I lost it. Let me try again.”

Now, I was even more distracted and nothing was happening. I wanted him to touch me. That was all I’d need to get things started. I just needed an excuse.

“Maybe if you went first.”

But, instead, he offered to get some lubrication. Lubrication! Had he no idea how wet I was? And, how frustrated I was getting.

“There’s some in my bedroom. Can I go get it?”

Yes! Of course, I thought. A trip to his bedroom, to get a condom.

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’m covered. You can’t see anything.”

Once he was gone, I slid over toward the wall and propped myself up on my elbow, making room for him to sit beside me. I expected him to return, condom in hand, make an excuse and get in bed with me. But when he got back, he held out a small bottle with a pump-dispenser top.

Seduction

I motioned for him to sit. He handed me the bottle. I stalled, waiting for my scent and his hormones to do their work on him. I examined the bottle, reading the fine print several times. He filled the awkward silence explaining how he and Barb used it, then offered to dispense some onto my fingers. Instead, I ceased the initiative, pumping some onto the fingertips of his outstretched hand. He looked up, surprised.

From that moment, everything seemed to go into slow-motion. I lifted the sheet and held my breath. He curled his fingers, moving his closed hand down my abdomen and across my pubic hair. I was so excited, electricity was pulsing through my body. I spread my legs to invite his hand between them. It felt cold at first, but his touch was like velvet. I lay my head back onto the pillow.

“Ahhh. That’s better.”

I totally surrendered myself. He settled beside me as he began.

I whispered, “Robert?”

“Yes, Susan.”

His touch and his voice were so soft and reassuring. But, I was so excited I could hardly breathe.

“I want you to make love to me.”

“I know.”

I had seduced him and put my trust in him. He patiently caressed my engorged labia. I was nervous. But, he was in no rush and my anxiety passed, replaced by a calm sense of anticipation. Our eyes met. I watched him watching me as he began lightly circling my clit without ever touching it. He was teasing me and I was falling under his spell, just as my sister had.

Then he asked very softly, “Are you a virgin?”

This was it. This was how it would begin. He was making plans for me, getting me ready.

“No.”

He whispered, “Good.”

He started stroking along my slit, each time pausing for a moment over my vagina. Then he circled gently teasing my flower open, making me ache for him to dip his finger inside. I was horny as hell, and could feel a flood of hormones pulsing with each heartbeat out to my arms and legs. It induced a paralysis designed by nature allow him to inseminate me. The anticipation was excruciating and delicious. He wiggled his finger ever so slightly, letting it find its way inside. Another burst of hormones. I couldn’t believe how gentle he was or how anxious I was for him to fuck me. He went back to circling my clit. This time lightly brushing my button, as if by accident. But, nothing he was doing was an accident. It was five years experience with my sister. When he went back to my slit, he circled my hole, again coaxing it open before probing slightly deeper, opening me a little more. I wanted to lie still for him, stretching my legs apart and pressing my pubic bone up against his hand, to force his finger still deeper. My world was narrowing to a tunnel of exquisite sensations that he could apply or withhold as he wished. I desperately wanted him to take me – condom or not, I didn’t care. Like so many hormone-laced school girls impregnated by hormone-crazed boys, I no longer felt any inhibition.

I went all dreamy, losing contact with my surroundings and drifting into a fantasy in which he was already between my legs, penetrating me. I could visualize it, even though I’d never actually seen a penis. I had watched Kathy push her mother’s dildo into me. It felt big, stretching my insides until I felt the faux-testicles against my bottom. I thought I knew what coitus would feel like and wanted it bad. It seemed, forcing me to wait was part of his plan.

Then he said, “C’mon Sue, let’s chase the sparrow.”

I was already making chase. Ready to do anything he asked. The sparrow was fluttering fitfully between my legs. I had masturbated, but it never felt anything like this. I abandoned any pretense of dignity focusing on the growing tension. Soon, my legs began to stiffen and shaking. Jolts of electricity were ricocheting through my body as waves of hormone kept sweeping out to my extremities. Breathing fast, I thrust my hips upward, calling out his name along with pleas for him to finish me off. My muscles were overcome with a chaos of spasms until the singular jolt of the orgasm hit me. I grunted and snorted like a animal as my abdominals clenched and I dug my fingernails into the bed sheets. He kept me going. I writhed in ecstasy. When I thought I was about to lose my mind, he stopped, partially withdrawing his finger. I went limp on the bed, thankful it was over.

But then, he let me have it again. More aggressive, still deeper and massaging the front wall of my vagina. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I gripped his arm with both hands, my body convulsed. Another more intense orgasm swept over me and I responded with more stifled screams, grunts and snorts. By now, I was a total mess – sheets disheveled, panting, my face and body covered with sweat.

This time when he stopped, it really was over. I was still breathing hard, but the neuro-sexual fire-storm abated. He slowly slipping his finger out of me. My lust was quenched. Desires I felt so strongly only moments before slipped away. In their place, a feeling of bliss – of being loved and protected. He held me in his arms, letting me recover, then pulling up the sheet. I was exhausted and descended into a hazy semi-consciousness, as if drugged with a powerful sedative.

Eyes closed, I remember saying, “Oh, Wow.” several times.

Then, I sensed the warmth of his lips gently touching mine. His kiss was tentative, my response sleepy. We shared that long sweet unforgettable kiss before I rolled on my side and drifted into an intoxicated twilight-sleep. That was the last thing I remember, until I awoke on the bed in a fetal position, covered by the sheet and a light blanket.

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