Date: Mon, 13 Jul 2009 13:25:17 +0100 From: tina foster Subject: Noon-time rising M/Teen Encounters By Reading this, you acknowledge that it's intended for adults only, like the rest of the work of tinafosteruk@gmail.com If you're not old enough to read this, "why are you here?? Go away..." To those who enjoy reading these, thank you for your attention. It's appreciated. Do get in touch. I like the feedback. *************** Noontime Rising Lying back eyes closed I caress my body, beginning with my nipples, which harden quickly, beneath my avid fingers. I take each between forefinger and thumb and then, pinch; and, pinch hard, enjoying the pain the soars through my body, right down to my groin; and then spreads out as a sweet sensation of sheer exquisite pleasure. But, I ignore the obvious, as I wait for him, choosing to slide the lubed middle and fore-finger of my right hand downward, to my eager love-tunnel. And, I moan with pleasure, as I simulate what I hope will soon happen. After all, I have the outfit chosen: and, in just half an hour the folks will be out. I was more than a little expectant and, as the hands on the clock neared twelve, I'd finished dressing then pulled on my terry-towel robe, to cover the outfit from anyone looking in, as I answered the door, to my guest: if he arrived. Originally it had been a standing invitation, "Call round, on a Saturday about noon and, I'll get down on my knees for you, to take all you've got." I'd said it when I'd been lucky enough to see a photo of it, the one of his pride and joy: beautiful it had looked an all. That proud erection had held me captivated, for several minutes, when I'd opened the email he'd sent. And, after not hearing from him again, I'd figured John was just teasing, as he'd experimented with his sexuality. Then, just last night he had phoned, "Is twelve still okay?" It had been a simple question, with so much implied. I mean, maybe the fact that he'd made some sort of decision, as to his needs. Or, maybe he was just teasing me? It was possible. An, if I said `yes,' he'd know I was still on offer. For long seconds, I'd contemplated what I'd had to say. Then when that decision had been made, the next had been `what to wear?' Yet that decision had been somewhat easier to make though: a full slip, short pleated, red and black tartan skirt, over thigh-high cut lilac panties and tucked into a white shirt I particularly liked, well-sharp, with button-down collars. With this I'd chosen to wear tights, as they made my legs look so-so good and now, as the seconds tick by, I'm becoming even more eager than I was a short hour ago. And, impatient as I am, I can't help but prowl the house, eventually going through to the kitchen and turning the kettle on. It's as I'm standing there, my nylon-clad feet on the linoleum, waiting for the kettle to boil that I notice the time, as there's a knock on the door: twelve-Oh-two. Only two minutes late! I try to slow my breathing down, as I run to the front door, knowing I have to slow down. I just can't help it. I am anxious, too see him and feel him, deep inside me. "Hi!" I exclaim, thankful that when I open the door, it is John. And, he's smiling. "Okay to come in?" He asks. "Oh Gawd," I mumble, standing aside so he can pass me and enter the hall, passing close by me, very close by me: "Yeah sure. Sorry." He enters and sits on one of the two bench seats either side of the kitchen tacle, the one nearest the sliding door to the hall. And, he smiles, looking at my legs. "Tights, or stockings?" He asks. It's a reasonable question. "Tights," I answer, as I pour us each a coffee, which I place on a tray. "Are you coming through to my room, to play?" I enquire, with a light smile on my face. "Does a bear shit in the woods?" Is his answer, as he stands, to follow me through the hall, then lounge and through to my small room. I'm ready, already. I just don't know whether he wants me, as I much as I want him. Though, as I sit the tray down and I look to the lustful face on him, I realise that any doubts that I may have had are groundless: he wants me. "Sit down, please?" I say to him, indicating the bed. The bed, where I hope he'll take me and use me, all with my express permission. John does as I've asked, his eyes glued to my legs. "Take the robe off," John says to me, as I make to pick up his mug of coffee, to pass to him. I pause theatrically, with my back to him. And, I can't help but smile, as I realise a long held fantasy would soon come to pass: and, I will service him, as he wants. So, I unfasten the belt, drop the robe, then pick up the mug and turning to my young prospective lover, I tell him: "There's a spliff in the tin over there." My Yin-Yang tin, sitting on the locker by my bed held three spliff's inside, one for before and, two for afterward, if thing's went well. And, if they didn't work out, as I'd wanted, they'd be enough to compensate for my disappointment. Aye, I'd thought ahead. "Alright," he says with a grin, as he picks up the doobie and puts it to his lip, as I kneel at his feet. He inhales deeply and, hardly cough's at all, as he pass the joint to me. He exhales, as I begin to `toke hard myself, staring at him, in kinda adoration. "I've been horny for day's thinking about this," he tells me, to my delight. I cough. "You know I want this as well," I say with a smile, as I pass the smoke back to him. And, as he takes it from me, our fingers touch and, I can't help it: even that brief touch has me in a paroxysm of ecstasy. Oh Gawd, how I long to feel him inside me. He grins. And, momentarily I wonder if he's aware how much I want him, as he draws on the spliff, taking a good lungful, of that sweet acrid, blue-grey smoke. He exhales slowly, passing the joint to me, with a shaky hand. "Nice smoke," he mutters. I stare at young John, as I finish the joint, all the time staring at him, aware that soon one of us will have to make a move. Otherwise my folks will arrive home, to find me dressed, to please this young buck. And, that won't go down well, at all. "Stand up and do me a twirl," he instructs me, as I grind the roach into a small ball in the ashtray. I do as instructed, of course. "Lift your skirt up!" He says, with a face on him, of pure lechery. It seems he does know what he wants: and, maybe, just maybe, those last two smokes will be congratulatory ones? I can but hope. I grasp the hem in both hands high and lift the skirt higher, to show a little lilac, beneath my sheer tan tights. "Turn round," he says. And again, I do as instructed, well aware that time is moving on. I want to do as he says. But more, much more than that, I want him inside me: and ideally before my folks get back from their meal out. With my back to him and my buttocks on display, I ask: "Can we? Please?" He knows, he must know. He has to know we're running short on time. "Please what?" John asks, teasingly. He knows what I want. It just seems he wants to hear me say it. Well, why not? "John, will you let me get on bed and on my back and raise my skirt, ease down my panties and will you slide your hard length inside me?" I question him, in calm measured tones. Yes, I am anxious. And yes, time is moving on. But I do know what I want. "I want you now," I tell young John as I turn to face him. "I know," he responds with a smile, as he stands and eases his tight light blue jeans down his thighs, then his tight white Calvin Klein's, revealing his proud eight or so inches of cut, thick manhood. As John finishes undressing the necessary, I lie back. Drawing up my legs, I pull my skirt up then ease my tights and panties up to my knees. I grasp behind my thighs and pull my knees toward me. Now he can see where I want him. And, young John gets on the bed between my legs. John leans forward with his taut belly against the other side of the tights crotch from my face. Though I know he doesn't want the affection, I want to look into his eyes as he fucks me and soon I am on my back, ankles draped over his shoulders my tights and panties in my face, my knees either side of my ears. The plum head of his erection presses against my well-lubed sphincter and, slowly he eased in me, eliciting a long moan from me. It's what I'd been fantasizing of, for so long. And, its length was just as the picture had shown, opening me up as he pressed forward, widening me further. Placing his hands on my thighs for purchase, he eases into me, opening me up slowly. "Oh yes," he hisses through clenched teeth, "so tight, so damned tight." "Don't you like it?" I ask, clutching at his lower arms, as he seems to fill me more and more, with that hard, hot flesh. The sound of the slapping of flesh fills the room, otherwise quiet room, as his thighs smacks against the back of my thighs and buttocks. My lower back is starting to ache, so lowering my legs, I drape then over this thighs and wrapping them over his backside, try to pull him into me. And as slowly as he entered, John draws out of me, leaving me empty and quite disappointed. And all of a sudden, he plunges deep back inside me, filling me once again. I toss my head, bucking beneath him, as he drives forward. I can't help but tighten around him and John groans with pleasure. "Fuckin `ell, that's good," he tells me with a grin, "can you do that again?" And with each slow withdrawal I tighten my inner muscles; so that as he re-enters me, I'm nice and tight, for his pleasure. Yet, all too soon for me, his hold on my hips tightens and he thrust faster and faster. His face contorts as he frowns and groans, as his speed increases: and, I can't keep up with him now, not since he began rabbit humping my ass. And, I love it. I love that I'm here on my back dressed en femme, as my young lover increases his speed. John's grip tightens on me; his breathing gets faster and I can feel it, as his erection throbs inside me, as he shoots his seed into my rectum. "Oh yes," he hisses, "so nice." I slump beneath him, all tension suddenly left from my body. John doesn't move, just loosens his hold on me a little, as he closes his eyes and breathing slower, sweat dripping from his forehead. "You're a good fuck," he tells me and I smile up as him, as he slowly slides out of me, leaving his seed to trickle out of me. "I kind of regret not taking up you accept your invitation earlier." He adds, slowly stroking my face. And, though I know he's not really into it, I sit up and kiss his lips softly. He doesn't stiffen up and accepts my kiss. Taking hold of his wilted manhood, I look into his eyes. "It needs cleaning," I say to him with a grin and lick my lips.