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Afternoon at Table Rock

Posted by: Age: Older than I feel Posted on: 0 comments
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This happened long ago, but seems like last week


We, Delores and I, grew up in a quite small farm town at the edge of the Ozark mountains. We were close neighbours, were in the same school and grade throughout, but seldom played together. Different genders had differing childhood play interests.

Our town sphere of interest was agriculture, So, though kids knew about sex from earliest age, there was seldom a need to mention it. After all, sex applied to animals, not people. Schools then had no sex education programs. Boys learned all about 'it' in the street from older rogues. Likely all young boys jacked off, and all fell victim to the hair-in-your-palm myth.

Girls were not believed to masturbate. All boys knew girls weren't interested in sex, didn't have a dick to jerk, read books and giggled all the time. Boys did think vaguely about 'pussy' and 'tits', but few had actually seen or felt same. The genders each had separate friends, clubs, dreams and skills. Sometime in early high school those spheres began to merge.

Delores and I began to merge with her home practising cooking lessons while I practised polite eating. After supper we might go into the night to catch lightening bugs with a mason jar. Soon we were bumping, then wrestling in the cool grass. Later kissing, stroking and groping followed. We spent many hours in the darkness under her huge lilac bush. There our petting became serious. I could see little in the darkness but I learned the touch and texture of her outside and somewhat inside. I still find lilac fragrance to be an aphrodisiac. The clap of a screen door was a dread because next came her mom's calling ' Delores-BED TIME ' !

My belief was that she dutifully went to bed and had dreams of a new kitchen or some other girly wishes. I went to the other side of the lilac bush and jacked off thinking of pussy. Strangely, not usually Delores's because she was too pure for such nastiness. After all, she had never touched my dick in the darkness even while I lay over her nudging her leg with the hard on in my overalls.

In a small town there was little to do. In our 17th summer we took to walking in the country. At the most it took 15 minutes to get there. I always carried a .22 rifle. Even though rabbits were not safe to eat in the summers squirrels were. Besides nosey neighbours would see we were going hunting for supper.

A favourite place was table rock, a large flat outcropping in the creek bed. Few folk went there cause the fishing was bad and cause better swimming holes were closer.

I clearly remember what happened one Friday afternoon at table rock, The event branding-ironed the moments into my brain.

In the shade of a huge tree with paw paw bushes and some grass beside the flat rock and pool we were private. Delores sat against a tree, my head in her lap. A pair of bob whites flew past and the meadow larks went silent. I sat up with the rifle. Any country boy knows somebody is coming.

It was Betty, the little blonde girl had been the girl of my dreams in third grade, and Steve, a skinny boy who lived on a sorghum farm in the hills. He tried to walk with his arm around Betty, but on uneven rocks had to settle for holding hands. They sat together in the sun, so close we could hear their mummers.

Delores started to get up and greet so I whispered don't scare them-they'll go pretty quick.

We spied. Steve stood, dropped overalls and shorts to go skinny dipping. Unusual with a girl around. Betty stripped too. Shy Delores grabbed my hand when Steve turned and displayed a horizontal proud hard dick. I felt a flash of jealousy.

Betty and Steve splashed and romped and came together to kiss and do invisible things under water. The event was getting erotic. We two were kneeling peeping through the paw paws. Steve got out heading for our shade still proceeded by his hard-on. Betty got out. The water wetting down the blond hair between her legs so she looked bare. They lay down twenty feet from us to make out more. We hardly dared to breathe. I got a throbbing hard on in my coveralls.

Soon Steve sat up, Betty sat on his lap facing him. They were sideways to us so we couldn't see everything, but sure could tell what was happening. After a bit I looked at Delores, saw her hand down in her pedal pushers. She smiled, stared at my crotch and nodded. Releasing the shoulder straps my coveralls slid to my knees on the ground. I began jacking off. We watched each other more than the fucking couple. It was slow and made very intense because we had to be quiet.

Pretty soon Betty began to go ' Ugh ugh ugh ' like a train coming down the track. Then ol' Steve hollered ' Oh shit! ', pushed Betty off and squirted straight up. He waded in to clean off. They dressed and left.

We didn't talk. Delores stripped off her pedal pushers and white panties to sit on, her back again against the tree, her knees up, legs spread. I knelt by her left foot, still jacking off. Her hand covered much of her pussy, but I could see more than ever before. She shook her head when I quit jacking to reach for her pussy.

'Don't quit', she mummered with a soft husky I had never heard. Then using two hands she spread her lips. Above the opening her pubic hairs looked orange. Below they were auburn from wetness. I couldn't have touched my dick without coming. It just pointed out and pulsed up and down.

'I'm gonna do it ' she said in the same sexy voice.

'Do what? ' I asked stupidly.

'I'm gonna come', gasped as her hand moved faster.

'Do you know how?', Later we agreed this was the most stupid conversation ever.

Her hand vibrated across her pussy. Breathing fast Delores panted and whined like a puppy as she lifted her butt then seemed to wilt. Her face and throat redder than her hair.

'Now you do it. I wanna see you come' she said, still panting.

I was so close. Just pushing in hard at the base of my dick. With each pulse I hoped to hold for just one more. Finally pushing in and sticking my dick out as far as possible the surges began. Several streams shot out beside her leg and butt.

'Gawd!' she said. ' That was something. When we're married you can do that inside me'.

As we walked home I asked if she did that often. She answered 'Pretty often. Not with anyone watching before.' A pause of many steps, She added,'That was so intense. I loved it with you.' Bashfully she asked, 'Can we do it at home?'

My reply of 'Guess so' set another level for stupid replies even from me. All considered it was satisfactory to Delores. The lilac bush saw a lot of mutual masturbation. She released a lusty wantonness there. I learned about all that mattered about her from doing it together. Our tensions relieved, we became real with one another. We fell out of lust and deeply in love.

That moment I relive so often in sexy memory. Even years after we married I still jack off with those few minutes running in my head. Her hair is darker now, but I see the orange halo and the soft wet pink as on that day at table rock.

We still masturbate together. Watching, the visual adds to it, and doing our own strokes prolongs the pleasure then assures mutual climax. We think it a gift from Betty and Steve,



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