She'd had only the uncomfortable wetness between her legs to remind her of how close to the edge she'd strayed, and as she sat and waited for him to come this evening, she'd made a resolution to never let it happen again.
So far, this evening wasn't presenting any threat to her virginity. His parents were out, so they came to the house, raiding the pantry for dinner, which she cooked, and the liquor cabinet for some wine. A couple of bottles later, she wanted fresh air and he wanted to go out in the cruiser, and they walked down to the dock and boat-house, where he carefully and with studied slowness removed the tarp and started the inboard engine. Then he climbed on the boathouse dock, took her hand in an exaggerated courtly bow, and lost his footing, falling in the water beside the boat, taking her with him. Now they were back in the house, sopping messes, and she felt like laughing. It was so stupid of him, and yet so human, and it made her like Clyde all the more.
"I'm drenched," she heard herself say thickly, still giddy from wine.
"Lord, I can't let you go home like that, Wendy. Your mother would kill me. I mean, we've drunk too much and show it, too."
"No, she'd understand."
"Maybe, but I don't want to take the chance. Anyway, the night's still young, and once you dry off, we can go do something else."
"I can't stay in these things," she noted, holding up a part of her sopping skirt in emphasis. "I'll catch my death of cold. I'll have to go home first."
"No, you don't. You can use the guest room and take all your things off. There's a bathrobe in there and towels in the john, and I'll go upstairs and change myself. A couple of minutes in front of the heater and everything will be toasted dry. Hell, that stuff you're wearing is drip-dry, isn't it?"
Wendy cocked an eyebrow. "No funny business?"
"Hell, I can't promise that," he said impishly. "Not with the cutest girl in Reedsport running half-naked around my father's house. What kind of red-blooded American boy do you think I am?"
"Well, in that case…"
"But," he continued, "you'll have more on with that bathrobe and what-all than when you're in your bathing suit. And I'll be changed."
"I recall what happened to me when I was in my bikini," she said wryly, then put her hands on her hips jauntily and eyed him, her head tilted to one side. "Still, I handled you then… I guess I can handle you again."
It was all in fun, this teasing, and helped soothe his wounded pride, and she knew that it would be a mistake to demand that he take her home. Besides, it gave her a certain sensation of excitement at the thought of being near-nude around him in a bathrobe, a little bit of prurient mischievousness that appealed to her sporting nature. She let her boy-friend lead her to the guest room and show her where everything was, and then he shut the door. In the bathroom, she undressed quickly, stripping the cold wet garments from her skin and grabbing a towel to rub herself. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the back of the door and paused to study the naked image she made, her creamy-smooth skin now a reddish hue from her rubbing. She sat on the edge of the tub and dried her feet, and the soft, silky hair curling in the triangle of her young, innocent vagina caught her eye. The wine was still in her blood, had made her just reckless enough to agree to this absurdity of removing her clothes, and she suddenly felt very hot. God, she was going to have coffee from now on tonight, because she was going to have to keep her head…
Suddenly she bolted upright and held the towel in front of her, for the bathroom door had opened and Clyde stood in the entrance wearing only a tight pair of underpants.
"Clyde! You promised!"
He came toward her, shaking his head. "No, I didn't," he grinned maliciously, and she saw the heavy sag in the front of his shorts and the big protuberance pointing in her direction through the stretched cloth. Before she could protest further, he was tugging the towel away from her and gathering her into his arms, her naked flesh pressing tightly against him as he kissed her with fury, flattening and spreading her lips open until she uncontrollably splurged her tongue into his mouth. A frightened hollowness came alive in the pit of her stomach, and she felt herself being transported out and across to the large double bed of the guest room, where he laid her gently on the coverlet.
His hands commenced to explore her defenseless body as they had the previous Sunday, only this time there was no hindering piece of cloth to stop them from reaching her tingling pussy. They caressed her swelling breasts, and she felt the nipples distend, and then he sucked one into his searching mouth, causing her to whine feebly.
"No… No, Clyde," she begged, sensing the danger.
But it was as if she'd never spoken, his hands prowling with insane intensity over her ribs and belly, brushing the velvety pubic hair until she prickled between her legs and tried to squirm away. Still his fingers followed, splaying the tender lips of her virginal young cunt and he did his mouth upon her own, and she groaned against him, unable to contain herself as she writhed on his touch and embrace.
"Clyde… Oh God, Clyde, we mustn't!" she panted into his face. "You know we mustn't!"
He slipped out of his shorts and she heard him breathe harshly at his own nakedness, and felt the huge, hot throbbing of his exposed penis press into the smooth flesh of her hip. His fingers continued their assault on her tingling vaginal passage, burrowing deeper and deeper, and she jerked and tossed, a soul-searing moan escaping from her chest as she arched her young body and rolled her head from side to side and ground her sweat-beaded, trembling white thighs down into the mattress in a vain attempt to escape his worming finger down between her legs.
"No, no, no," she chanted, gnashing her teeth as the word ricocheted around the walls of her mind, knowing she must stop him but not knowing how. His penis slid down over her trembling belly, closer to the softly fuzzed furrow where his hand was spreading the thin, slightly throbbing lips wider and wider, but when she clamped her thighs together in protest, she sucked in a gasp of hot air for his fingers, trapped in the hair-covered lips of her vagina, were suddenly all the more tantalizing. He flicked the tip of her erect clitoris, teasing it and sending insane spasms through her whole body, and she found to her anguish and dismay that no longer would her flesh obey her mind; her cunt splayed open, her legs widening on their own, and he thrust his fingers deep into the pink, moist, demanding hole of her smooth, throbbing passage.
"Ohhhh," a long groan gurgled from deep in her throat, and she heard herself moaning: "You've got to stop, Clyde… You can't… No, no…" And to her amazement and confused horror, he took her unresisting hand and placed it on the fleshy shaft of his cock and when he moved his hand back to her pulsating vagina, she let her fingers remain there, on his penis! She'd never seen a naked, aroused man before tonight, much less felt one's cock!