Jessica, a virgin, has first time sexual intercourse with her longtime boyfriend and now fiancé, Michael.
Relegated to making out in his car, with both of them still living at home with their parents, they never have any privacy to do anything but for hugging, kissing, and some light petting. She feared that she’d be embarrassed that her parents could hear her and/or embarrassed that her younger brother might catch her topless with her boyfriend’s cock in her hand or in her mouth. She was just as uncomfortable making out down the cellar in her parent’s house, as she was uncomfortable making out in his bedroom in his parent’s house. With her lost in his kisses when not on her knees, with him obviously just wanting to get off to cream her hand, cum on her tits, or ejaculate in her mouth, he wouldn’t care who heard him or caught him having sex with her.
As long as she was stroking him and/or sucking him, he’d make out with her down her cellar, in his bedroom, in his car, or in the middle of the mall. Just as long as he got what he wanted when he wanted it, he didn’t care where they had sex. A sexual fantasy of his to flash her big tits to other men, he didn’t care who saw them and/or who caught her topless and him naked. With thousands of people watching them making out and touching and feeling one another, as long as he got what he wanted, he’d have sex in the stands at a baseball park or at a football stadium for all he cared.
With her just the opposite, when being intimate with him, especially when he was always unbuttoning her blouse and lifting her bra to expose her big tits, she preferred having sexual intimacy privately and without an audience rather than having sex in public. Whether married or living together, as long as he understood that she’d still be a virgin until their wedding day, she couldn’t wait until they could afford a place of their own and could move in together. With shades on the windows and drapes pulled closed over the shades, she couldn’t wait until they had their own bed in their own bedroom. She couldn’t wait until they could close their bedroom door and have some intimate privacy while having sex.
Maybe then, even before the wedding, once they lived together, if he played his cards right and seduced her instead of forced her, she’d have sexual intercourse with him. Maybe then she’d have him make love to her before fucking her. Maybe then, once he experienced what it felt like to have his cock inside of her, he’d finally be sexually satisfied and would stop complaining about her not making love to him and him not being able to fuck her. Only, knowing him as well as she does, with some men going off the deep end when their wives are with child, he’d probably lose his mind when she became pregnant.
Just because she was always saying no to having sexual intercourse with him didn’t mean that she meant what she said. Just because she was always saying no to having sexual intercourse with him didn’t mean that he couldn’t persuade her by seducing her to say yes. If only he’d seduce her, she’d freely and willingly relinquish her virginity to him. If only he’d seduce her they’d put the issue of her virginity behind them and both of them would be happier. Yet, with sex always about him, other than her agreeing to give him sexual intercourse, he didn’t sexually satisfy her needs in the way that she always sexually satisfied his needs. He cared more about his own sexual needs than he cared about her sexual needs.
After going out to eat, to see a movie, to play miniature golf, to go bowling, to play games at the arcade, to shoot some pool, or to shop at the mall, the only private place they had was in his car when parked at lover’s lane. Yet, after a while, kissing and groping in a small car, as was his Mustang GT, gets old fast. With little room to move, with her 5′ 9″ tall and him 6’1″, a blessing in disguise, she was glad he didn’t have a full-sized car or a big SUV because, no doubt, he probably would have forced her to fuck him in the backseat by now.
In the way that he so wanted to fuck her bareback without using a condom, undoubtedly she would have been pregnant by now. Unmarried and with her pregnant with his baby, with him getting cold feet in marrying her before she was pregnant, she wondered what he’d be like if they had a baby on the way. Knowing him to run scared when facing adversity, especially commitment, he’d probably take off, leave her, and disappear as if he was a gypsy running away in the night after stealing something. Only, what he wanted to steal was more valuable to her than her money or jewelry. What he wanted to take from her was her virginity. A high price for him to pay, the price for her virginity was him marrying her.
Knowing him, if she became pregnant with his child, he’d shirk from his responsibility and leave her alone to care for their child alone. Abandoning her and their child, she hated that she suspected that horrible truth about him. Knowing him as well as she does, she wonders why she still wants to marry him. Even after knowing his shortcomings, she loves him and there’s no logical reason or commonsense explanation why one person loves another person. She just does and hoping to change him after she marries him, she has this nagging feeling that she’s making a big mistake in wanting to stand at the altar with him to say, “I do.”
She had a pit in her stomach and a bad feeling, a woman’s intuition, that their love affair was doomed by his selfishness and self-centeredness. With him a one way street, in the way that he acted when he didn’t get his own way was another big reason why she remained steadfast in not giving him her virginity. Playing things by ear, she decide to wait and see what would happen as the wedding date neared and the relationship progressed. Maybe he’d see the wrong of his ways and apologize for his bad behavior. With her looking at him as if he was a specimen under a microscope, she didn’t want to make a mistake in marrying a man who thought more of himself and his own needs than he did about her and her own needs. If he worsened now in his selfish attitude, she couldn’t see herself marrying him.
* * * * *
It was the same scenario, albeit sexy scenario, every Saturday night. As if scripted and a rehearsed play, seemingly as if stuck in the Twilight Zone, playing out with the same sequence of scenes over and again, she could predict what he’d do next. If he was so predictable now in his love making when they were so young and all this was new, she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when he was older and they were married for a while. With his sexual appetite seemingly so boring bread and butter and plain meat and potatoes, she needed him to spice things up a bit to heat up her flames of desire. Alas, even though she gives him regular hand jobs and blowjobs, he always seemed so sexually unsatisfied. With him not returning the favor, he doesn’t reciprocate the sexual pleasure. Being that it takes two to make for a happy sexual relationship, there’s only so much they can do without making love and fucking.
Kissing and kissing her, frustratingly, as soon as he kissed her a few times, he’d moved his hand to her breast. No surprise there, yet there’s so much more to her than just her big tits. He loved her big tits. With him always enamored with her big tits from day one, his favorite body parts, so he says, after her big, blue eyes, pretty face, and long, blonde hair, he loves her tits as much as she loves her tits. Seemingly, with him pawing her, groping her, touching her, feeling her, and fondling her breasts, he can’t get enough of her tits.
Yet, as if teenagers in a movie theatre and, after a while becoming bothersome and annoying, he never stopped feeling her big tits. Sometimes as if she wasn’t even there, feeling one before feeling the other, sometimes he’d even feel them both together. Enough already with the groping of her breasts and the fingering of her nipples, she had other body parts that he could explore. What if she never stopped touching, feeling, fondling, and stroking his cock? Never mind, not a good analogy, he’d probably sexually enjoy more attention paid to his cock rather than less.
As soon as her nipples made their appearances through her blouse and bra, he fingered them. As soon as her nipples made their appearance through her blouse and bra, he pulled them, he turned them, and he twisted them. Enamored with her nipples as much as he was with her tits, if ever there was a breast man, he was their poster boy. Positioned in a cow pasture, she could envision him surrounded by and standing in the middle of bare breasted women, “Got Milk?”
Unfortunately and sexually frustratingly, as if her erect nipples was his cue to stop sexually exciting her, regrettably him feeling her breasts while fingering her nipples is all that he thought she needed to get her sexually aroused and in the mood. He was wrong. She needed more than what he was doing. If only he’d play with her pussy once in a while instead of ignoring that part of her body to for him to pay extra attention to her tits.
While kissing her and kissing her, she enjoyed him feeling her tits and fingering her nipples, as long as he was feeling her ass and putting his hand between her legs too, something that he always didn’t do. Yet, too often starting and ending with her breasts, his attentive, physical affection was only for her tits. In the way she dressed, how much cleavage she showed or didn’t show, everything he did and/or said was about her tits. When too sore to be fingered and uncomfortable to the touch, the only time she recoiled from him groping her breasts and fingering her nipples was when she was getting her period. Otherwise, knowing that it turned him on so much, she always allowed him to have his wicked sexual way with her big tits.
He liked her natural breasts. An understatement. He loved her natural breasts. As soon as she climbed in his car, reaching his right hand over to grope her tits while driving, the amusement park was open and her fun bags were his favorite ride.
If she could just give him her tits to play with and if he could stuff them in his pocket to feel, fondle, and finger them anytime he wanted, sadly, he’d probably have nothing more to do with her. Seemingly, he loved her breasts more than he loved her. In the way that some women are nothing more than their pretty faces and shapely bodies, unbelievably, she was seemingly nothing more than her big, shapely tits. As a souvenir, a sexy keepsake and an always present reminder of her tits, she imagined the interaction he’d have with his friends if she gave him painted, flesh tone, soft to the touch, silicone impressions of her breasts. Resplendent with lifelike nipples for him to keep after they separated, he could keep them in his room, beneath his pillow, in his office, or even walk around with them in his pockets.
* * * * *
“I heard you broke up with Jessica, Michael. I guess the wedding is off,” said his friend.
He looked at Michael with understanding as if he was there for him if he wanted to talk.
“Yeah, it’s true. With her wanting to remain a virgin until her wedding night, I was tired of waiting for her to have sexual intercourse with me,” said Michael to his friend. “I was tired of having blue balls while every other man in the world, but for me, was getting laid.
As if he was the injured party, the victim, and not her, Michael shook his head with sadness as if Jessica was dead instead of no longer his fiancé.
“That’s too bad you never banged her,” said his friend while motioning his arm like the double crank mechanism on a connecting rod on a wheel of a locomotive. “She’s wicked hot. She did have big tits. I bet you miss feeling and sucking on those big melons.”
Michael looked at his friend with a shit eating grin.
“Actually, I don’t. Now that you mention it, as a parting gift, she gave me her tits,” said Michael.
He looked at his friend and smiled as wide as Jessica’s tits are big.
“She gave you her tits? What do you mean? What? No way,” said his friend. “How could she give you her tits? That’s crazy.”
Michael reached in each of his pockets to pull out two silicone, exact impressions of Jessica’s big tits.
“See, I have them here in my pocket. Always carrying them with me and never without them, they’re my personal, pocket tits,” said Michael pulling Jessica’s tits from his pocket to show his friend. “They’re not her real tits, of course, but silicone recreations, exact replicas resplendent with nipples. They look and feel exactly like her tits.”
As if Michael was holding a Rolex watch or a mega karat diamond ring, his friend’s eyes bulged wide open.
“Wow,” said his friend. “Pocket tits? I never knew there was such a thing.”
Michael looked down at his hands holding Jessica’s pocket tits before looking up at his friend with as much pride as he had sexual satisfaction.
“I love holding them, feeling them, fondling them, and sucking on them,” said Michael feeling them and fondling them. “As if they’re my giant worry stones fashioned in the shape and the feel of her natural breasts, what the Hell do I need her for when I have facsimiles of her tits?”
His friend stared down at the lifelike recreation of Jessica’s tits that Michael held in his hands.
“Would you mind? May I touch them? May I feel them? May I fondle them? May I lift them to my mouth to suck them?”
Michael offered Jessica’s pocket tits to his friend.
“Sure go right ahead. Be my guest,” said Michael. “Just don’t suck them. I’ve been sucking on them and I don’t want your mouth all over my pocket tits.”
“Sure, okay. I understand. I’ll just hold them, feel them, and fondle them while fingering the nipples,” said his friend.
“Okay,” said Michael handing his friend exact replicas of Jessica’s tits.
As if really touching, feeling, fondling her tits while fingering her nipples, his friend touched, felt, fondled, and fingered Jessica’s lifelike pocket tits and nipples.
“Wow! These are wicked nice. They’re totally unbelievable. They feel just like the real thing. I imagined that they feel just like Jessica’s big tits,” he said looking at Michael. “Do they?”
His friend briefly looked up at Michael before staring back down at Jessica’s pocket tits that he was holding.
“They do feel just like much like Jessica’s tits,” he said with a big smile. “Having her tits with me in my pocket all the time, I don’t even miss having her around.”
Michael accepted the replicas of Jessica’s silicone tits from his friend and put them back in his pockets.
“Damn,” said his friend. “If I had pocket tits to carry around with me, I don’t think I ever would have gotten married. I never would have had kids. I never would have been up to my ears in debt with my wife buying a car, clothes, shoes, gym memberships, and paying for my kid’s college tuitions. If I had pocket tits today, I’d have something I don’t have.”
“And what’s that?” Michael looked at his friend with curiosity.
“I’d have money. If I had pocket tits instead of a wife, I’d be loaded. I’d never need a woman again,” said his friend after feeling the Hell out of the replicas of Jessica’s pocket tits.
* * * * *
In the way Michael wanted Jessica’s hand and mouth to be all over his cock all the time, his hands and his mouth was all over her tits. If it wasn’t for his younger, pervert of a brother, she’d give him a silicone mold of her breasts for his birthday to him to keep with him beneath his pillow in his bedroom or in his pockets as his very own personal pocket tits. Only, his brother was just as bad as her brother. Always wanting to see her tits, her brother was always trying to catch her topless and/or naked and a few times he has.
What is it with men and women’s breasts? What’s the big deal? It’s just tits. Whether big, small, shapely, or saggy, every women has them. Were they taken away from their mother’s breasts too soon?
Alone with him in his cramped Mustang GT while resting her arm around his neck, fully aware of what he so wanted, she gave him free access to her breasts, as long as he gave her free access to his lips. One of her favorite things to do, she loved kissing him while feeling his cock through his pants. One of his favorite thing to do, he loved feeling her tits through her blouse and bra while kissing her. Another one of his favorite things to do, he loved fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra before unbuttoning her blouse and feeling her nipples through her bra. Still another one of his favorite things to do, he loved freeing her breasts from her bra to touch them, to feel them, to fondle them, and to suck them. Yet, his most favorite thing to do with his finance was for her to stroke him before sucking him while he felt her tits and fingered her nipples. Yet, whether it was his lips she wanted or her tits that he wanted, no matter which body parts they preferred, as long as they wanted one another, seemingly their love affair worked and would only get better once she was a virgin no more.
Always nervously jittery and jumpy, quickly pulling down her bra and closing her blouse with every sound, she was always looking around to make sure there was no one coming. With him transfixed on her breasts, he was filled with as much excitement as if he was opening gifts on Christmas morning. As if this was the very first time he was unbuttoning her blouse and exposing her bra and cleavage to his horny eyes, one slow button at a time, she allowed him to unbutton her blouse. She could have worn a pullover top, a sweatshirt, or sweater to give him easier access to her tits but she’d rather he’d work for the pleasure of seeing and feeling her breasts. She’d rather he take his time undressing her before being rewarded with her naked breasts for him to touch and suck.
Yet, always the same, he’d flail open her blouse to stare at her cleavage and bra clad breasts. He’d touch and feel her breasts through her bra as if he was feeling something so delicate precious. With his eyes bugging out of his head, as if seeing them for the very first time, he’d stare at her bra clad breasts before putting a finger beneath her bra to lift her bra up and over her big tits to free them. As far as he was concerned two things so beautiful should never be hidden away behind the confines of a bra and the modesty of a blouse. As far as he was concerned, he’d want her to go everywhere topless for all other men to not only see her tits but also for them to be envious that her tits belong to him.
For fear that someone would come or a cop would harass them with his flashlight, she never totally removed her blouse and bra. Shyly modest, she didn’t want anyone to see her breasts but for Michael. She’d be so embarrassed if anyone other than him saw her naked breasts. Not wanting to be topless in his car, at least while still wearing her blouse, albeit unbuttoned, she could easily pull her bra down and close her blouse quickly enough to preserve her modesty.
With her being morally modest and a virgin to boot, she was a good girl. Not wanting to give anyone a free view and a cheap thrill of her naked breasts, should anyone suddenly happen along, she had him turn to face her so that he could conceal her naked breasts with his body. Other than her creepy, pervert of a brother, no other man but Michael has ever seen her naked breasts. With him the only man who she’s ever given free access to touch, feel, and suck her breasts, and with her not being a slut or a whore, Michael would have to be content with seeing and feeling her breasts only from the front.
It sexually aroused her that Michael was so enamored with her big breasts but there was so very much to her than just her tits. Along with her D cup breasts, she had a pretty face, beautiful, long blonde hair, long, shapely legs, and a tight, little ass. Seemingly he ignored the rest of her to spend more time with her breasts. If only he’d spend as much time with her pussy as he did with her breasts, perhaps he’d sexually arouse her enough to make her want to make love to him. If only he gave her as many orgasms as she give him, she may have agreed to have sexual intercourse with him by now.
* * * * *
Kissing and kissing her, as if feeling them and fondling them for the first time, he’d feel and fondle her big tits with such excited enthusiasm while fingering her nipples that she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if they were naked and he was on top of her. She couldn’t imagine how sexually excited he’d be if she was on top of him and hanging her big tits down in his face. Apparently with him judging her sexual excitement from the erect hardness of her nipples, when she wasn’t yet sexually aroused enough, he’d lean down to suck her tits, first one and then the other. Thinking that was all that it took to fully, sexually arouse her, he was done. It was his turn now. Expecting a hand job and/or a blowjob before driving her home, it was the same thing every Saturday night with her stroking his cock before sucking his cock.
Never allowing her to take sexual control of his body, he always took ownership of her tits while always moving her hand to his cock. She felt and squeezed his erection through his jeans while he unzipped himself and removed his prick from his underwear. Maybe, just once, she’d like to do that. Maybe just once, she’d like him to finger her and give her an orgasm first. Maybe just once, she’d like to wait until she was in the mood to stroke him before blowing him. Maybe just once, she’d like to have the sexual control instead of always relinquishing that to him. Maybe just once, she’d like him to give her a voluntary orgasm with his fingers without her having to move his hand down the front of her pants or up her skirt.
Once his cock was out of his pants, as if an afterthought, he slowly lifted her short skirt. With him ensconced in what he was doing to her body, especially with her tits, she was nervously looking around while listening for anyone coming. Just as she enjoyed him feeling her tits and fingering her nipples, she enjoyed him feeling her legs, especially her upper thighs. Once he stuck his hand between her legs and left it there, she’d gasp in sexual anticipation to him fingering her. When he didn’t and was about to withdraw his hand, she’d grab his hand and stick his fingers in her honeypot.
She always quivered whenever he touched and felt her pussy through her panty. Yet, seemingly, he wasn’t as enamored with her pussy as much as he was with her tits. Maybe if she was fucking him, he’d be more attached to her pussy. Maybe if she wasn’t a virgin, he’d want her pussy as much he wants her tits.
She loved it when he’d cup her whole mound in the palm of his hand through her panty. It was then that she wished he’d eat her and lick her to orgasmic pleasure. It was then that she so wanted to fuck him but for her promise that she made to her dying grandmother to remain a virgin was her personal cross to bear. Only, with her long legs, unless she stuck them out the car window and attracted attention from passing perverts, there wasn’t enough room in his small car for him to give her oral sex or to fuck her.
Still, she enjoyed it when he fingered her. She loved it when he rubbed her pussy before gently penetrating her with his fingertip, only not too deep. She looked forward to him masturbating her. Pushing her panty aside while kissing her, she loved feeling his fingers inside of her while he masturbated her. Just as he loved her masturbating him, she loved him masturbating her. Only, with him always getting the better of the deal by expecting her to suck him and swallow his cum, just once she’d like for him to eat her. Just once, she’d like to feel what it’s like to have an orgasm from his mouth and tongue instead of just from his fingers.
To be continued…