Special Weekend

I've been going steady with Mike for yonks. We started dating in school and we both just seemed to click and stay with each other. I took it for granted that we'd get married sometime in the not too distant future.

When I say we've been going steady, I only mean dating. We'd never actually got around to doing more than kissing and a bit of light petting. First I was reluctant because I was underage and Mike accepted that. Reluctantly, but he accepted it.

After I turned eighteen he pushed a bit harder for a stronger commitment, shall we say. He almost pulled it off a couple of times, because I was starting to feel that way inclined myself. A couple of times I'm quite sure we would have reached the point of no return if it hadn't been for Brian, Mike's father. That man seemed to have a knack of knowing what was going on in our minds and circumventing it. Fine when we were younger, but now - a trifle annoying.

So when Mike mentioned a special weekend, free of parents, I knew just what he was getting at. I sorted of gulped and said I'm sure it will be a terrific weekend, or words to that effect, while inside I screamed and ran around in small circles.

It's one thing to get carried away in the heat of the moment, and find it's too late to back out, even if you want to. It just seemed a lot worse to be cold-bloodedly planning for a special weekend when his father's away.

After that I tended to tune out whatever he was saying about the special weekend coming up. He referred to it several times over the next few weeks, coming on even stronger when we were dating, as though he couldn't wait that long. The special weekend was scheduled to be the first weekend after the football finished. I assumed his father had a business trip lined up.

I was getting more and more nervous as the date approached but I think I hid it well. I didn't want to spoil Mike's anticipation of the coming event. Still, it seemed to me that time was galloping past. Then it was the Thursday leading up to the weekend. Mike was practically doing handstands and I was sweating blood, nervous as a kitten at a Rottweiler convention.

I'd gathered that his father was going by bus with a group. Mike asked me to come around to his place at five and go with him to the bus. Unsaid was the fact that he would want me to come back to the house afterwards to start the weekend.

Dutifully I fronted up to his place at five the next afternoon. I had a suitcase in the boot of my car and I'd told my parents I'd be visiting a friend for the weekend. When I got to Mike's I saw that his father's car had a suitcase already stowed in the back. That surprised me, that Brian would let Mike drive his pride and joy to the bus depot.

Brian drove to the depot while I sat in the back with Mike. That figured. I suppose Mike driving it home from the depot was all that Brian's nerves would handle, and that because he wouldn't actually see it. Mike mentioned a couple of times about how much fun the weekend was going to be. I could have hidden under the seat when his father glanced over his shoulder and said not to do anything he wouldn't do.

The next thing I knew we were driving into the school grounds and I was thinking what the hell? Brian pulled over and Mike piled out, grabbed the suitcase, and headed over to the bus, and the rest of the football team that was gathered there. He turned to wave to me and then the team was piling onto the bus, leaving me there thinking, "What? What? What?"

It was slowly sinking in that when Mike said 'we' as in what a great time we will have he hadn't been referring to him and me. He'd been referring to him and the football team. Parentless, as in their parents were staying home, even if the Coach, who was on the bus with them, was going with them as a sort of chaperon.

At no stage had Mike actually said that he and I would be enjoying the weekend. Neither had he said his father was the one going. There again, he hadn't said that he and the football team were going, either. He assumed I knew that, damn his eyes. I felt a complete and utter fool. All that angst about finally yielding to him and he was going elsewhere. As far as I was concerned they'd be holding Disney on Ice in Hades before he saw even a glimpse of my panties, let alone got a chance to remove them.

I was rather quiet as Brian drove me back to his place. I saw him give me a sympathetic look and he kept the small talk to a minimum, which saved me bursting into tears.

When we arrived back at Brian's place I was all for jumping in my car and breaking the speed limit all the way home. Speed limit, nothing. I'd have been quite happy breaking the sound barrier. Brian would have none of it.

"You're not driving while you're upset," he said flatly. "Come in and have some coffee and give yourself a chance to calm down."

As soon as we got in the house Brian sat me on the couch and started on me.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "You did know that Mike was going away this weekend, didn't you?"

"Of course," I said airily. "He's been talking about his special weekend for weeks. Free of parental restrictions and able to do as he likes."

"I doubt if he'll do more than have a few beers too many," Brian told me. "They won't have any girls there, you know."

"I know that. I didn't think there would be."

He leaned back a little, looking at me and I tried my best to seem carefree. That man had a very sharp mind.

"Did Mike actually tell you that he was going away for the weekend? That question can be answered with a simple yes or no and no waffling."

I glared at him. How did I answer that? I'm not sure if Mike actually told me that or not, but I suspected not. When I didn't answer fast enough Brian started nodding.

"Apparently not. So who did you think was going? Ah, silly question. Me, obviously. Mike is not the best communicator is he."

"Yes, well about that coffee," I muttered, wanting a change of subject.

"Now I can understand you being surprised at Mike going instead of me but it shouldn't upset you quite so much. Why has it, I wonder?"

"I'm not upset," I put in quickly. "It was just that it was rather a shock, ah, surprise."

"No. You were right the first time. It was a shock."

Brian was watching me and I could practically see his brain turning over.

"I get it," he said nodding slowly. "You've been think that I've been away and that the fun time Mike was planning was with you, here. You've probably been living on your nerves for the last few weeks, thinking about it, wondering whether to go ahead with it. No wonder it came as such a shock when Mike got on the bus and headed off."

"I don't have the faintest idea of what you're talking about," I snapped. "If we're not going to have coffee then I'm going home."

I jumped to my feet and Brian promptly pulled me down onto his lap.

"No need to go home just yet. You're feeling pretty hard done by right now and I don't blame you. I feel it would be wrong to let you go home without at least a taste of what you expected."

OK, so I'd been expecting a bit of passion from Mike and had dressed accordingly. I was wearing yoga pants on the assumption that Mike struggling to pull off tight jeans would be a real passion killer. Likewise I had a t-shirt and sports-bra, two items that would peel off without the necessity for undoing fiddly little clips and things.

Ideal clothes for pashing with my honey. Not so ideal when someone else wanted to remove them. Brian just peeled me as though he was peeling a banana. Top and sports bra came off as one, straight up and over my head, leaving my breasts on display. I naturally clapped my hands to my breasts to cover them. What I should have done was grab for my pants to hold onto them. Brian just hooked his fingers under the waistband, and yoga pants and panties came of just like that, leaving me sitting shocked and naked on his lap.

Brian swung me to my feet, pushing my hands behind my back and holding them there, while he looked me over, nodding in appreciation.

"You have grown into a fine woman," he said softly. "I can understand you wanting to explore your feminine side."

I'm going, "Wait. Stop. What?" and he was smiling at me. His hand came up and brushed against first one breast and then the other, nodding in approval as my nipples seemed to spring to life. After that his hand drifted down and brushed lightly against my mons, not really doing anything, but just holding his hand against me. It was all he had to do to start fires burning inside me.

"Don't worry," he assured me. "I'm not going to rush you into having sex with me."

"I didn't think you would," I lied, having been half expecting to be thrown to the floor and ravished on the spot.

"Of course you didn't," he agreed. "Do you know what we are going to do right now?"

I gulped and shook my head.

"We're going to adjourn to the kitchen while you make us some coffee," I was told.

I breathed a small sigh of relief (Relief! Not disappointment.), and looked around for where my clothes had ended up. You can imagine my surprise when Brian just turned me around and started walking me towards the kitchen, naked.

"You won't need your clothes just yet," he said. "I want you to get used to walking around without them."

"Why?" I demanded.

"It will let you become less self-conscious about being undressed in front of a man. It will also help you relax, which will make it easier later. Besides, you're a lovely young woman and I enjoy looking at you."

Alarm bells sounded. What did he mean, make it easier later?

"What do you mean about easier later?"

"After the coffee I'm going to kiss you," he said calmly.

That wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't moved his eyes from my mouth to my breasts. Did he mean that he was going to kiss my breasts? This, I decided, was where a smart girl ran screaming to her clothes and got out of there. I was obviously not a smart girl as I turned on the kettle, instead.

I made the coffee and the entire time I was doing it I was becoming more and more aware that I was a woman and that I was naked and that a man was watching me. With evil intent, I was positive. My nipples were erect and didn't seem like they were going down any time soon. That wasn't my problem. My problem was that I could feel a burning deep inside me and I could feel moisture down there. I'd had wet panties before this but this time I didn't have any panties. If I started leaking I'd be so embarrassed.

The big question was whether he was going to try to have sex with me or was he just going to touch me up a bit. I can tell you this; I wasn't going to take any bets on him just wanting to touch me up. I was going to have to have all my wits around me if I wanted to get out with my virginity intact. There was the crux of the problem. IF I wanted to.

I'd sort of made up my mind that this weekend was going to be the weekend to do it. Now my partner to be wasn't there, but Brian was. I've always liked and respected Brian and I know he's experienced and would know what to do. I decided to just wait and see what happens. A girl can always say no.

We sat and had our coffee, just talking about things generally, damned if I can remember what about. I was at least sitting down but that still left my breasts on display and I knew he was looking at them. Brian wasn't blatantly ogling them but I just knew he could see them and liked them. That knowledge did nothing to help my nipples go back down, I assure you.

It was all so, so, . . I don't know what it was like, but it was very intense I can tell you. The swine knew just what he was doing leaving me to walk around naked, even if I was only sitting. I could sit for only so long, after all, and then I'd be on full display again.

I picked up the empty cups and turned to put them on the sink. I couldn't help wondering. If I spun around real fast, would I catch Brian checking out my bottom? I was quite sure I would, but I'd look a fool if he wasn't. Which meant I couldn't turn around, and he knew it, and he'd be checking out my bottom, damn it. So maybe I swished it a bit when I crossed to the sink. Sue me.

I turned away from the sink and Brian was standing there. He took my arm and tugged me towards him while he moved back towards the table. He sat down, pulling me down onto his lap, and he kissed me. It was not the first time that Brian had kissed me. He'd kissed me hullo and kissed me farewell (kissed me goodbye doesn't sound right) but he'd only ever kissed my forehead or cheek. This time he kissed me properly and there was quite a difference.

I kissed him back, quite enthusiastically. I mean, I didn't really think he'd try to take me to bed, so a little bit of kissing and maybe some petting wouldn't go amiss. Relieve my frustrations a little, at least.

So he was kissing me and I was kissing him and he was running his hands up and down my back, stroking me, and we were kissing, and he was running his hands over my breasts and, oh, my, god! I broke the kiss looking down at his hands. They neatly covered my breasts and he was rubbing them and teasing the nipples.

Apparently I should have gone on kissing him. With his mouth now free he promptly put it to use, bending down and kissing my breasts. Kissing? He was biting, and sucking, and kissing, and nibbling on my nipples, and biting some more, and sucking on my nipples, and generally driving me crazy. I'd had my breasts touched before, but never more than a hand stroking them and an occasional kiss on the upper slopes of them, while retaining my bra.

I was already feeling a little aroused and excited and this brazen assault on my breasts just amplified what I was feeling. If I'd had access to a fan I'd be waving it in front of my face to cool me down. I always thought fans were an affectation, used by Elizabethan style ladies as being modish. Now I realised that those demure young ladies were really aroused and horny and trying to cool down.

I tried to protest and tell him to stop but it's pretty hard to raise a coherent argument when your breasts are saying, "Hey. We like this. Don't stop." Any rational argument I might have mustered came out something like, "Ah, oh, you shouldn't," and that was about it. Just push him away, you say? Why would I do that? He might have stopped.

I was so concentrating on what he was doing that I was taken by surprise when he suddenly stood up and carried me out of the kitchen. He returned to the front room and I could see my clothes on the floor by the couch. I suspected that he was now going to let me get dressed and I'm not sure if I was relieved or disappointed. Not that it matters. That wasn't his intention. He sat me on the couch.

Alright, maybe he didn't exactly sit me on the couch, but that was where I now was, lying on my back, with Brian kneeling beside me. The reason I was lying on the couch immediately became obvious. Accessibility. He started kissing me again while his hands went exploring. Suddenly I found a hand on my bare skin where no-one had actually touched me before. Well, I guess I should say that no-one had touched my bare skin there. I'd been fending off Mike (and the occasional other) for a while now, and I'd been groped through my panties before this. I'd just never been groped while the panties were elsewhere.

I squirmed and wriggled under his touch but I didn't try to stop him. This was a first for me and I was savouring it. It was delicious, his fingers stroking me and raising the oddest feelings within me. I won't say I hadn't had similar feelings in the past, but never so intense, with the knowledge that I was naked helping to build on that arousal.

I was wondering if he was going to keep petting me until I had an orgasm. I was really, really, hoping he would. That would be fantastic, to be petted by a man until I came.

When he stood up and started taking off his clothes I wasn't really surprised. I mean, it was obvious that he was going to want me to touch him a bit. I had a fair idea of what he would want. I just lay there watching him. He was big and solid. Not fat at all, just large. Very large, I thought, looking at his groin, and wincing slightly.

He settled back down on the couch next to me, kissing me and touching me some more. I'd naturally started touching him, hands on his hairy chest, and then trailing downwards. I was feeling very adult and feminine when my hand closed over his erection. It was hot and hard, and I could swear I could feel his heart beating through it.

I stroked him and he was continuing to stroke me. Stroke me, hell. He was touching me up in all sorts of ways, driving me mental. I was feeling really hot and just knew I'd climax if he kept this up. I didn't even notice that he was moving my legs further apart and if I had I wouldn't have cared.

He pulled his cock out of my grasp and moved onto the couch between my legs. Just like that he was looming over me and his cock was pointing at me. All I had to do was say no, remember? Well, please tell me how you say no when no-one is asking? If I just said no right out of thin air and he said he wasn't going to, I'd look a fool. If I didn't say no and he was going to I'd be an ex-virgin before I could get around to saying no.

I dithered and by the time I was ready to say a definite no he was pushing past my lips and into me. Or maybe I just wasn't ready to say a definite no. I don't know. I do know that I just watched as he moved my lips apart, inserted the head of his cock there and pushed.

I gave a little squeak when he first started in. There was this sudden pang of pain inside me and I knew what that meant. He simply ignored it, just steadily pushing into me. What I was worried about was not the fact that Brian was screwing me (without asking) but whether that thing would fit inside me. He seemed to have no qualms. He just kept pushing, and I could feel myself being stretched and made to take him. Just how far was he going to stretch me?

Just far enough to fit himself into me it turned out. I found myself lying on the couch with his cock all the way inside me, feeling most strange, while he lay on top of me, looking pleased.

"Um, you didn't ask," I said, knowing just how lame that must sound.

"Oh, didn't I?" he asked, sounding all sympathetic. "May I?"

I glared at him. As if I was in a position to say no, with his cock already stuck inside me. Any more inside me and his testicles would be there as well. More to the point, what happens now? It was fine for him. He knew what he was doing. I just knew the theory and theory was already falling flat as far as I was concerned.

He knew what to do alright. He pulled back out of me and I could feel his cock sliding against me, and it was the most incredible feeling. Then he came back in, a damn sight faster than when he first entered me. I guess his cock now knew the way and didn't have to stop and ask for direction. It came sliding straight back home and I just squeaked with shock.

He laughed, the brute, and did it again, with me biting my tongue so as not to squeak. He was into his third stroke before I caught on and realised that I was supposed to move with him, pushing up to meet him, according to theory. So I pushed up to meet him as he came in and, wow, everything was as before, but much more intense.

He smiled at me, nodding his satisfaction and I was practically glowing with pride. He also got down to taking me in earnest. Oh, wow, how do you describe something like that? His cock would come rushing in, lifting my excitement, stirring up my arousal. Even his slow retreat felt good, continuing to build on what had gone before. Then he would be charging back, and I was making these funny little sounds as I bucked under him, and bucked with great enthusiasm.

His hands were back on my breasts, teasing them, adding to my excitement, and things just kept building up inside me. I wanted to scream my approval of what was happening but I didn't have the breath to spare. I just did my best to stay with him, silently cheering him on. God, I hope it was silently. It didn't bear believing that I really shouted, "Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me harder, you great brute." Thinking it was one thing. Actually saying it. . .