BTC: Chapter 30 (Posting Version)

-- CHAPTER 30: Zofia --

****

Something tickled my balls, and with a start, I jerked awake.

“Mmph!” somebody grunted, and as I sat up, I realized I’d just shoved my dick an inch into a girl’s throat. She gagged a little but didn’t quite pull her head off. Continuing to suck my mushroom head and twisting her hands around the base of my cock, she pumped them together up and down the length of my shaft until she recovered enough to push her face back down.

My eyes fluttered for a brief second, giving me just enough time to see the strawberry-blonde head bobbing up and down in my lap. Belle looked up at me, her pale green eyes piercing in their gaze as she recognized I’d awakened. And she stopped to smile around a mouthful of meat while continuing to pump my shaft with both hands.

“Mmm, morning Annabelle,” I greeted warmly. I glanced at the alarm clock that I’d set for 7am, which was an ungodly hour to wake up on a Saturday morning, but I had plans today. And yet it was only 6:52. “You’re early.”

The impish pixie shrugged without removing my dick from her mouth. A few sucks later, she pulled off and smirked at me. “What can I say? I woke up horny. And I figured I should get this going before you leave me for another woman.”

By way of answer, I bent forward and hooked my hands beneath Belle’s armpits, physically hauling her up and onto my torso. She’d worn one of my t-shirts as a pajama top and apparently no panties, since once she whipped the t-shirt off I found that she was already gloriously naked. Rather than try to insert my thick cock right away, she laid the furrow of her pussy along the length of my rod, pressing it down between us so she could ride it like a rail. This also made her bend over my face, putting her exceptionally firm D-cups within reach of my mouth if I craned my head a bit. Instead, I cupped my hands behind her shoulders and pulled her down low enough so I could suckle away to my heart’s content while she slowly slid her light body back and forth. I soon felt her liquid arousal seeping out of her tight pussy, coating my shaft in her essence. And when I judged the time to be right, I used my left hand to hold her from sliding back, adjusted the angle of my prick with my right hand, and then let go with my left so that she could ever so slowly back herself up inch by inch, feeding more and more of my cock inside her warm body.

I stopped suckling then, relocating my hands to her hips to help tug her body down against the tight friction of her heavenly canal. She stopped and shivered halfway down, one hand rubbing her own clit while she felt her body stretch around my invading prod. And after a minute or two, she finally hit bottom and let out a long exhalation of relief, sweat dotting her forehead.

“Fucking A you’re big, Matty,” Belle groaned.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I smiled and sat upright. With our height differential, we were basically face-to-face as I took her head in my hands and started sweetly kissing her. And neither of us needed to move for a long while as we simply made out with each other like the teenaged lovers we were as if our loins weren’t already intimately joined together.

Of course, we didn’t stay like that forever. Belle crossed her legs behind my lower back, using her feet and muscles to help propel herself up and down my shaft while I planted my left hand on the mattress to help myself hump up into her hot little body. She rode me to a quick orgasm before I picked her up in my arms and started walking around the room just because I could. She clung to my neck like a little monkey and rabbit-humped herself up and down the whole time. Finally, I sat her on the edge of my desk and hammered the hell out of her until she screamed her joyous release loud enough to wake Mother down the hall. I joined her soon after by pumping her hot little pussy full of wriggling sperm, and remained inside her to plug up the leak while we stayed on the desk making out again like we had all the time in the world.

Of course, we didn’t have all the time in the world, and I needed to start getting ready for my day’s activities. So after I got about halfway deflated, I finally pulled out of Belle’s sodden snatch, and she quickly pulled on her panties to trap my spending inside.

I arched an eyebrow. “You’re not going to scoop it all out?”

My impish pixie winked. “Oh, I wanna feel it leaking out of me all day, and I’m gonna keep dipping my fingers in there to lick up your flavor whenever I find myself missing you for too long.”

Well of course I had to walk over, picked her up in my arms, and start kissing her again. But finally I had to pull away and get dressed.

I didn’t want to be late.

****

I parked the minivan in the driveway at 7:59am and met my “accomplice” just outside the front door. She let me in silently, gave me a mysterious smile, and then drove away. The house was otherwise empty.

I made my way up to her room and let myself in as silently as possible. The exquisitely beautiful brunette was still asleep, as expected, her silky locks spread across the pillow behind her, with only her head and shoulders exposed above the blanket. Black spaghetti straps of what appeared to be a slinky negligee were the only things interrupting her porcelain smooth skin, and she looked so angelic in her slumber that I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

That was alright. My early arrival had been intended to ensure my presence before she awoke. With that mission accomplished, I settled onto my knees beside the bed, folding my arms atop the mattress and setting my chin down atop them. I smiled to myself as I drank in her beauty, wanting to memorize this moment forever. She had a hint of a half-smile herself, her expression that of peaceful contentment and serenity. With time to spare, I let myself idly imagine what life would be like waking up next to this gorgeous face every morning, and it was a pleasant thought indeed.

Her cute nose wrinkled, and for a moment I wondered if she could smell my presence. She took in a deep breath, wrinkled her brow, and started mumbling to herself. I couldn’t quite make out the words, but I thought I heard her say the word “Niners”.

A minute later, I was pretty sure she mumbled, “Jeff Garcia.”

“I dunno,” I muttered impulsively. “He’s CFL material, not NFL.”

Zofi frowned and sighed, “Depends on whether he and T.O. can get along.”

“Maybe. I think I’ve been spoiled by Joe and Steve. Maybe let him play for a year, but they’d better draft a QB in the later rounds.”

“Don’t be a hater.” Zofi’s eyelids rose halfway, closed again, and remained down for two seconds before blinking slowly as she took in a deep breath and sighed, “A true Niners fan has faith.”

I smiled broadly. “I have faith, but I think it also pays to be prepared.”

Zofi’s bright blue eyes fully opened. She didn’t look surprised by my presence, neither happy nor sad, but merely curious. She breathed in and out slowly, her brain still sluggish. But after about a minute of just sort of staring at me, the light of awareness finally came into her eyes as she stated, “You’re in my bedroom, Matty.”

I grinned and now lifted the bouquet of flowers. “Good morning, darling. Would you like to go out with me today?”

Zofi’s eyes narrowed, and she took several more deep breaths. Eventually, she spoke, “I think it only really works when I call you ‘darling’. You’ll have to come up with your own nickname for me.”

I thought about it briefly and raised the bouquet once more. “I think I have something.”

“Really?” Zofi asked her interest piqued.

“Yes, but I’m going to save it for later. Until then, would you please join me for an outing, fair lady?”

“Why yes, kind sir. I’d love to,” she replied, beaming at me from inches away. She gave me a warm, welcoming smile, raised her arm out from under the covers, and reached for me. I leaned in and let her hold my head as I kissed her sweetly.

I grinned and sat back. Setting the flowers atop her desk, I gestured to her closet and asked, “May I?”

Giving me a curious look, Zofi nevertheless nodded. I flipped through her hangars for a bit, but when I saw the simple white button-down blouse I immediately knew. I found a nice pleated skirt in pastel blue and a wide belt. Finally, I asked if she had any scarves, and Zofi directed me to a drawer, where I found a small satin scarf with a striped pattern.

I laid the items out across Zofi’s bed while she sat up, revealing the rest of her slinky black negligee. With a bit of a wolfish grin, I moved around to sit down in her desk chair and looked at her expectantly. Zofi’s eyes went big, and she actually blushed rather cutely. I was a bit surprised that after everything we’d already done together she could actually get embarrassed at the idea of changing clothes in front of me.

Taking a deep breath, she slid off the bed and stood up only two feet away from me. I drank in her slender form, eyes gravitating to the way her big, unfettered breasts dented out the front of her negligee, her erect nipples making their presence known through the sheer material. For a few seconds, she stood there and watched me staring at her. I remembered what she’d said before about having the urge to see the look on my face whenever she did something sexy, and I made sure she knew how much I appreciated this moment. After taking another deep breath, she slowly slipped the spaghetti straps off her shoulders. Her boobs were big enough that the negligee didn’t actually drop, getting stuck on her protruding bosom. But when she tugged down on the hem, the black satin finally fell away to puddle around her ankles.

Clad only in a pair of sheer bikini cut panties, Zofi posed prettily by flexing on knee and shifting her hips a little. Her cheeks were pink and she pointedly looked away from me, momentarily unable to meet my gaze. I’d seen her naked before, of course, many times. But there was something quite different about stripping down during a “study break” with her friends around and posing by herself, unmoving, like a Greek statue, to let my eyes roam all over her perfect, uncovered skin. She breathed heavily while I suddenly found myself wishing to be that Greek sculptor so I could immortalize her forever. But eventually, she broke the spell by turning her head and smiling at the hungry expression on my face.

Impulsively, I reached out and caressed her naked breast. I was tempted, just for a moment, to tackle her onto the bed, yank aside the strap of her panties, and seize her virginity right then and there.

From the way she bit her lip, leaned into my palm, and rubbed her inner thighs together, for a moment, she seemed of the same mind. But then reaching to my chin, she rubbed it gently and murmured, “Not yet, darling.” Then she pivoted back to the bed and picked up the white blouse.

Staring at the simple shirt, Zofi frowned and glanced back at me over her shoulder. Setting the shirt back down, she walked over to her closet and returned with a nude-colored bra.

Abashed, I muttered, “Uh, I didn’t forget that on purpose.”

Smirking, Zofi replied, “Sure you didn’t.” She put on the bra, then the blouse, pulled up the skirt, and fastened on the belt. Unsure why I wanted the scarf, I stood up to tie it around her neck and then rolled up the short sleeves of her blouse. Finally, I had her put her hair up, and after pronouncing her perfect, I gave her a quick kiss and then invited her out.

“Where are we going?” Zofi asked when I walked her out to the minivan.

“You’ll see,” I replied mysteriously. We climbed in and started the moderately long drive up to the city. Keeping an eye on the clock, I realized we were just a little bit behind schedule and sped up to make up the time. While I refused to give away anything about the day’s plans, we happily chatted about everything else for the drive. I asked what she really thought about Jeff Garcia, and as it turned out, she had no memory of talking about the 49ers with me. The first thing she could recall of this morning was her statement that I was in her bedroom.

We made it into San Francisco and got coffee and pastries from a small bakery I knew. We walked a few blocks together before arriving at Tiffany & Co. a few minutes after 10am, but we didn’t go inside yet. When I stopped to eat our breakfast outside the display windows, Zofi laughed, hugged me, and happily continued our conversation while we chatted.

After breakfast, we did go inside to look at all the jewelry. Giggling, Zofi told me, “I think it would be tacky to wear diamonds before I’m forty.”

I laughed, and we continued out for our walk.

Zofi figured out we were recreating Breakfast at Tiffany’s when we stopped at the public library. The card catalog didn’t exist anymore, but we logged into the library computers and searched for “Varjak, Paul”. No results.

“How about ‘Nine Lives’?” Zofi suggested.

“Worth a shot.”

I watched her enter in the search and the computer spat out a variety of matches. On a whim, Zofi picked one and we headed into the stacks to try and find it. Amusingly, neither of us realized we didn’t actually have a library card valid for the San Francisco Public Library system.

“Honestly we forgot,” she apologized to the checkout librarian. “Cross my heart and kiss my elbow!”

The matronly librarian stared at Zofi, not getting the reference. In the end, Zofi applied for and was granted a library card. Only then did we leave, book in hand. I think she may have even read it before returning the book a few weeks later.

Our next stop was the local pharmacy store. We found some plastic masks, but I drew the line at actually shoplifting them.

“C’mon, don’t be chicken!” Zofi whined.

“My sense of fun would be severely curtailed if we got caught and hauled off to the local police precinct. They didn’t have security cameras in the 60’s,” I explained, pointing to one of the overhead cams that happened to be pointed in our general vicinity.

Instead, I bought a box of Cracker Jack, and Zofi hopped nervously in place just outside the store hoping for a plastic ring inside. Instead, the prize turned out to be a green whistle in the shape of a baseball field. Without a second thought, Zofi popped the whistle into her mouth and blew a shrill shriek that drew the attention of everyone within a hundred yards.

Zofi laughed, jumped into my arms, and spun me around. But almost as suddenly as she’d leaped, she dropped her feet and took two steps past me, a frown on her face.

“What is it?”

“I thought I saw…” She glanced back at me with furrowed eyebrows. “Nevermind.”

I simply shrugged.

Eventually we ended up in front of the waterfall at Yerba Buena Gardens. Snacking on a pretzel, we got to chatting about life after high school, at which point Zofi started to get a little sad.

“My whole life has been spent with this group of girls… and one special guy,” she explained. “The thought of us going our separate ways in a few months… it’s scary.”

“I genuinely believe the seven of us will be friends for the rest of our lives,” I told her.

A melancholy expression on her face, she stared across the garden and shook her head. “Everyone always says they’ll still be friends. But then almost everyone I talk to who’s older says they never see their high school buddies. People make new friends wherever they happen to be, whether that’s at college or whichever city their new job is.”

“Well you never know. I mean, a lot of us are applying to the same Bay Area schools.”

“Doesn’t mean we’ll all get into the same ones. And even if we did, doesn’t mean we’d all CHOOSE the same one.” She sighed. “What if the best school is somewhere across the country?”

I frowned at the tone in Zofi’s voice. “Have YOU already chosen a school across the country?”

She blinked and glanced back at me. “You know I flew out to New England with my parents back in September to go look at colleges. Princeton is beautiful.”

“Would you go if you got in?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have flown all the way out there if I didn’t at least consider it.”

I sighed and felt quite sad inside at the thought of not seeing Zofi anymore. True, the two of us had never been the closest friends within the BTC, but even my sixth-closest friend in the BTC was light-years ahead of everyone outside of it. It was especially saddening given how much closer we’d become recently, even beyond the sex stuff.

Exhaling slowly, Zofi picked her head up and shook it slowly. “Sam did Early Decision and she already got into Stanford. If I get in too, she’ll be expecting us to get an apartment near there and be roommates for the next four years. Plus, it’s not like I would be settling. Stanford is Stanford.”

“Then why don’t you sound so sure?”

I couldn’t read Zofi’s face right away. She stared off with a model-esque blankness for about a minute. But then with an enigmatic smile, she turned, leaned into me, and gave me a very sweet, very tender kiss.

At first, I was prepared for something sweet and light, and that she’d pull away a few seconds later the way she’d done throughout the day. But this time she flowed into me, and I wrapped my arms around her automatically. She hummed and pressed even closer, parting my lips with her tongue until we were full-on making out on a park bench. She pivoted to slide sideways into my lap, holding me close while we kissed and kissed and kissed. And only when I felt my lungs screaming for oxygen did she finally disengage and pant for breath herself, grinning goofily.

“I love you, Matty,” she stated sincerely, a world of wonder in her eyes. “I’m not in love with you, not like some of the others. But I cherish our relationship. And other than Sam, if I did leave to go to school all the way across the country, I’d miss you the most.”

That took me a little by surprise, but rather than try to put my feelings into words, I simply brushed her hair back behind one ear and murmured, “I love you, too.” And then I kissed her again.

Eventually, we sat there with our foreheads pressed together, each catching our breath. I realized the moment was getting a little heavier than either of us really wanted, so thinking back to my script for our date, I picked my head up and said brightly, “Okay, time for each of us to think of something we’ve never done before and get it accomplished by the end of the day.”

Zofi immediately gave me a skeptical look and asked, “You mean besides the obvious?”

I blushed, held up both hands, and stammered, “I- I- I was going with the scenes from the movie! I didn’t mean--”

“Relax, darling,” she cut me off by leaning into me and giving me a sweet kiss. “We’re not there yet, but we will be by tonight.”

My heart in my throat, I pulled her close and kissed her again.

Immediately after, Zofi told me she’d never walked through a waterfall before. So after getting me to take off my shoes with her, we hopped into the pond at the base of the falls and splashed around for a little bit. The air was cool and my feet were freezing, but Zofi was having such a good time I felt like I could walk on air.

It was my turn, and I told her, “Well, I’ve never gotten a blowjob next to a waterfall before.” I gave her an exaggerated overly-hopeful expression.

Zofi rolled her eyes and immediately smacked me.

I chuckled and nodded, feeling much better now that the mood wasn’t so somber anymore. More seriously, I explained, “Believe it or not, I’ve never been inside MOMA before.” I pointed to the nearby San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and then held up two tickets.

“Me, neither,” Zofi replied, wrapping both of her arms around my elbow. “So that’s a ‘something I’ve never done before’ for both of us!”

Gesturing with my head, I asked, “Shall we?”

She didn’t answer verbally. She just gave me another kiss, sighed happily, and said, “I really love kissing you, Matty.”

“I really love kissing you. And to think this all started when we got caught kissing sophomore year.”

Zofi beamed and kissed me again. She was so joyously happy that she bounced on her feet. And with a sudden thought, I slid away from her so that we were no longer pressed together, although I still held her hand in mine.

“You know, I’ve never skipped down the sidewalk with a beautiful girl holding my hand.”

Zofi grinned and we started skipping.

****

While I enjoyed the museum art, I found myself surreptitiously watching the people who would glance back at me and Zofi. Hanging out with Sam and Naimh, I was used to guys’ jaws dropping at the sight of my sex-bomb companions, but the attention Zofi attracted was quite different. There was less of an ‘I wanna tap that’ look on their faces and more of a ‘She’s what I always wanted but never knew’. Even other women seemed to appreciate Zofi’s soft, feminine beauty.

Dinner was at the Cliff House with a spectacular view of the sun setting across the Pacific Ocean. At one point, Zofi stared out the window, the orange and red hues of the sky casting her face in similar colors, and I found myself feeling the same feeling. I was sad it had taken me this long to finally discover more about the girl who had always been nearby and yet so unknown. And now that I was getting to know her better, in another few months she would be taken away, most likely off to Princeton or some other Ivy League school.

I found myself distracted throughout dinner, not keeping up my end of the conversation as well as I should have. Fortunately, the need to eat filled in some of the gaps. But towards the end of the meal, Zofi placed her hand on top of mine and asked, “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the nervous one?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

She gave me a look and explained, “Or maybe it’s not nervousness. You’re distracted.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and flipped my hand over so I could hold hers. “I was just thinking how much I’m going to miss you.”

She looked at me sadly, popped her eyebrows, and said, “I haven’t gone anywhere yet. For all you know, the seven of us could still be together next year.”

I smiled and nodded. “Who knows?”

Eventually, I paid the check and we got up to return to the minivan. Holding me close, Zofi leaned up to peck my cheek as we walked outside. The air had turned quite chilly, and I escorted her straight to the passenger door, opening it for her. But instead of hopping in immediately, Zofi leaned in, kissed me quickly, and said the words I’d been waiting a long time for.

“I’m ready, darling.”

****

It was still a relatively long drive back. We drove in silence, my mind still occupied by the specter of our unknown future. Zofi tried to break the tension a couple of times, but I wasn’t a very good conversation partner and the topics died quickly, thus leaving long stretches of silence between us as I concentrated on the road in front of me illuminated by my headlights.

We arrived back at her empty house. The gods of serendipity had sent Zofi’s parents on their anniversary trip for the weekend. I shut off the engine and turned to my soon-to-be lover, finding that the once elegant, graceful woman who had accompanied me all day had disappeared, replaced by a trembling teenage girl.

I cursed my selfishness. Here I was concerned about losing my friends and I’d abandoned one of them to get lost in her own head just before what was a major milestone in her life - a milestone she’d spent months working up to being emotionally prepared for. The progress of our romantic date had been reversed by my inattention to her needs. I thought of offering to call the whole thing off then and there, and at that moment, she very well might have sent me home.

But no, she was nervous and I’d been unforgivably negligent of her needs, but I was still confident that this was what Zofi wanted. She trusted me, and sometimes trust means that you have faith that the other person has your best interests at heart when they push you.

I reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her eye before leaning in for a brief kiss. Pulling back, I told her gently, “Please wait,” and exited the vehicle. Walking around to open the passenger door for her, I helped her down and took her by the elbow as I escorted her to her home. Zofi struggled with her keys for a moment, her hand trembling, but let us into the house and we silently walked up the stairs to her bedroom.

By now, her nervousness was threatening to dissolve into panic, the steps taking on more of gallows’ air. I don’t know what she thought would happen, perhaps that I would strip her down and take the shivering girl’s innocence with little care. But we had all night and if she needed a guide more than a Lothario for these first steps, I wanted to be that man for her.

So, entering her childhood bedroom with her, I let go of her elbow. She looked down as we turned to each other, but I tilted her chin up gently so she would look me in the eye. I tried to convey with my eyes that she was safe - that we’d get through this together - but when I went to caress her upper arm, she drew back.

The action surprised Zofi and jolted her out of her near-panic state as she realized that she’d just rejected my touch. I don’t know exactly what was going through her head at that very moment, likely some concern for what I might think of her. She’d invited me into her home with the express promise of sex, and now she wouldn’t let me touch her. Even strong, confident Zofi, the member of the BTC who I’d come to realize felt most at home in her body and secure in not allowing pressure from the other girls to accelerate her timeline for when she would be ready, would feel like a cock tease if she didn’t perform tonight.

Obligation wasn’t the right frame of mind I wanted her in either, so when she began her humiliated apology with, “Matty, I--,” I put a finger to her lips and kissed the top of her head, pulling her into me for a hug.

“Don’t apologize,” I whispered into her ear. I held her for a moment longer and let go. Stepping back, I saw that Zofi had come back to herself. But while the abject fear appeared to have passed, it was only replaced by awkwardness.

“What now?” she asked.

I raised my hands to her neck, and slowly began untying her scarf. “Now,” I told her, “I think I’d like to give my date a massage.”

Zofi swallowed and nodded her assent. My plan was evident to both of us as I took on the role of “Safe Matty” to make her again comfortable with my touch. She let me undo the first button in her blouse before stepping back to complete the task herself. In the dim light cast by her desk lamp, the only light she’d turned on, she began disrobing for me. Once her blouse was open from throat to tails, I stepped forward and pulled the two halves apart and off her shoulders myself, and Zofi held her arms back to let gravity slowly pull down the cotton fabric until it fell to the ground of its own accord. As she continued undressing, I briefly left the room to retrieve a few fluffy white towels from the linen closet. When I returned, Zofi had stripped to the bra and bikini-cut panties that had enticed me this morning right here in this room.

Opening one of the towels, I spread it in front of myself and averted my gaze, blocking my view of her body and allowing her a bit of modesty behind my makeshift privacy screen while she unhooked her bra and bent down to step out of her panties. “Lie face-down across the bed, but with your head at the edge,” I told her.

She nodded obediently and took the towel from me, hugging it to her chest as she walked to the bed and lay on her stomach. This allowed me a tantalizing view of her shapely bottom, but only for a moment as I obscured my own view by placing another of the folded fluffy towels over it, leaving her naked back and legs ready for my ministrations.

At first, she folded her arms beneath her chin, but I gently repositioned her arms back along her sides and tugged her forward until her eyes and nose were over the edge so she could breathe. Pulling the desk chair around, I sat down and began to massage her neck. Once she got the idea, she settled down and moaned as I went to work.

After starting on her neck and shoulders, I stripped down to my shorts and undershirt before climbing onto the bed. Straddling her legs just behind Zofi’s tight ass I proceeded to do my level best to turn her into a puddle of relaxed goo. I massaged her back, her scalp, her spine, both arms, and even her fingers. I made her so relaxed that she nearly fell asleep.

Her dozing state was disturbed as my hands slid past her butt and down to her legs. When I finished her lower extremities, I found her shaking her tushie in invitation to continue the massage there as well. I removed the towel and kneaded her assflesh for both her pleasure and mine. With implicit permission restored, I let my fingers crawl back up her body to play with the sideboobs spilling out as she lay flat on the bed.

Zofi started to turn over, but I had her remain as she was. She was breathing slowly, and her thighs had parted enough for me to catch a glimpse of her gates to heaven from behind. My dick throbbed in my shorts at the vision of naked loveliness beneath me, and I felt the urge to drop my shorts and push myself in right then and there. But I ordered myself to be patient and truly make her first time something special.

To that end, the sexual subtext of my massage morphed into straight text. I spent more time slowly molesting her exposed genitals as her legs spread further apart in welcome. She shivered, and I thought I might have felt small tremors within as I first dipped my finger into her honeypot in search of lubrication to begin manipulating her clit.

“Did you just cum, mój skarbie?”

“Yes, darling,” she breathed, her voice trembling.

Having broken through her tension, my own breathing became a little easier and I started prepping her for a proper orgasm. I didn’t forget the rest of her body, but time and again I returned to her sex. Lightly, I caressed her and manipulated her to a slow boil.

I paced myself, reading her cues to tease and titillate without quite pushing her over the edge. Along the way, I removed my shirt and shorts, my turgid rod occasionally caressing Zofi at her entrance, teasing that I might make her a woman at any second. Her fear was now buried under a tense desire, although one time when I lined myself up to tease her, she mistook my torment for the real thing and warned me, “Not yet, darling,” and I backed away.

Twice, she came close to cumming, and only by withdrawing my touch and clamping down on her legs with my hands did I draw enough sensation away from her crotch that her momentum didn’t carry her over the edge on its own.

Eventually, I felt her approaching the point of no return. She’d begun humping the bed seeking any stimulation beyond my light caresses and would take herself over the edge soon if I tarried any longer. I might have finished her off with simple cunnilingus, but I didn’t have the best angle. What I did have easy access to, however, was that beautiful winking anus. It called to me, the perfect method for bringing her to a screaming boil. Slowly, I leaned in, flattening my tongue in preparation for a lick followed by rigid penetration.

Just as I was about to take my first swipe, a hand blocked my path. Above me, Zofi had turned to her side, almost, but not quite lifting her breasts to full view, suddenly clear-eyed as she cupped her anus protectively.

“You do that, darling,” she began, placing hard emphasis on the endearment, “and I’m not kissing you again until you’ve brushed your teeth and washed your mouth out. And, no, you can’t borrow my toothbrush.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I apologized. That was a lot of hard work put into one failed almost-orgasm. Regardless, the imperious Zofi staring back at me with a mixture of stern good humor was immediately recognizable as the sophisticated lady I’d spent all day with, so mission accomplished.

Zofi’s expression softened and she rolled over and stood off the bed to secure her towel in place, treating me to a brief flash of full nudity before sitting back down next to me and leaning her head on my shoulder. “Thank you, you’re being very patient.”

“You’re worth it, mój skarbie.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that, what does it mean?”

I raised an eyebrow at her, “You don’t know any Polish?”

Zofi shrugged, “I was born in California. My parents managed to leave Cold War Poland in the 70s as teenagers. Their memories of their birthplace aren’t the happiest. You might have noticed, they assimilated enthusiastically.” She gestured around her bedroom filled not only with Niners paraphernalia, but also a patriotic red, white, and blue color scheme I hadn’t noticed - before a teenage Zofi had begun supplanting it with her own detritus. It also hadn’t occurred to me to question how an immigrant had become such a die-hard American football fan, but now it made sense. “My parents,” Zofi continued, “never felt a need to teach me their native language or send me to any Polish schools.”

“That’s too bad.”

Zofi shrugged. “I always regretted it a bit, but never enough to study the language on my own. But we’re getting off-topic, what does mój skirbie mean?”

“Mój skarbie,” I corrected. “I’m told it can be translated as ‘my darling’ or ‘my treasure’. I’m rather partial to the latter.”

She smiled up at me, “I like it, darling.” She rewarded me with a quick kiss, her eyes shining with affection. I leaned back in and kissed her again - not the type of hot kiss that serves as a prelude to passionate sex, but the romantic kind of kiss that served as its own form of lovemaking. Together we explored each other’s mouth, sometimes deviating to caress the other’s neck or chest before inevitably returning lip-to-lip. The pleasure built inside me – inside both of us – from the way the intensity climbed the heat intensified until it almost felt like we were experiencing a simultaneous orgasm without even really touching each other.

We pulled back, I think both of us a little proud of the reaction we’d gotten out of each other. Zofi breathed deeply and mimed fanning her face. My own heart pounded as I gasped, “Wow.”

She blushed prettily and averted her eyes for the first time in several minutes. It was then that she noticed it. “Hey, what’s this?” she asked, pointing to an envelope that sat conspicuous in the middle of the desktop.

I leaned back against the wall, a goofy grin on my face. “I was wondering when you were going to notice that.”

Zofi frowned. “It wasn’t here this morning, I know it.”

I shrugged, trying to not give anything away.

Retrieving the envelope, Zofi opened it and gasped at the contents. Inside were dozens of 4x6 photographs, and Zofi turned to sit down next to me on the bed while she fished the stack of photos out from the envelope. With a mouth gaping open in surprise, she started going through them one-by-one, lingering on some of them for only a few moments, but up to thirty seconds on others.

All were long-distance shots taken by someone with a zoom lens on a high-end SLR camera. I knew, because I knew the photographer. Most of the photos were of Zofi, although I was in a couple of the pictures. There were photos in front of Tiffany’s at 10am, and one while we were inside the store. There were photos in the library, at the pharmacy store, and outside while Zofi blew on the green whistle.

“I KNEW someone was watching us!” Zofi exclaimed when she stopped at the green whistle photo. “Who was it? No, I already know. There’s only one other person who could get a key to my house and let you in this morning, or to drop off the envelope before we got home.”

I shrugged, again trying to not give anything away.

Zofi suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth. “Roman Holiday! THAT’S the outfit you had me in!”

I grinned. “I knew you’d figure out Breakfast at Tiffany’s right away so I didn’t bother trying to hide it. I wasn’t sure if you’d figure out Roman Holiday.”

“Holy shit, you guys! Where’s Sam? She’s not hiding in the closet, is she?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No. At least, I don’t think so.” We both looked around half-expecting Sam to pop out, although she didn’t.

Zofi smiled and sighed happily. “Even with her crazy busy schedule, she burned a whole day just to do this for me.”

I nodded. “She didn’t even hesitate when I asked her to do it. She just said she was happy she could be part of our date. Breakfast at Tiffany’s was her idea. Roman Holiday was mine. I wanted to give you something to remember the day. Maybe you can make a collage.”

“I look so happy.”

“You were.”

Zofi leafed through the remaining photos, from the Yerba Buena garden waterfall to skipping down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. But she paused and looked a little closer at some of the MOMA art museum ones, including one in particular where she was standing by an upper-level window just looking outside. I stood three feet behind her, staring with an expression of wonder as I ignored the world around me, my eyes only on her.

She was beautiful.

The next photo was a close-up, the back of my head blurry in the foreground left, and Zofi’s exquisite face filled the rest of the frame as she gazed at me with complete adoration. I realized then what was different about the way people were staring at us: When I was out with Sam or Naimh, guys stared with an ‘I wanna tap that’ expression. But today, all those people had been staring at Zofi AND me, believing they were looking at a couple in love.

“Do I really look like this?” she asked demurely, holding up the photo.

I smiled warmly and replied, “It’s how I see you every day.”

Setting the photos aside, Zofi held both of my cheeks in her hands as she kissed me again. I returned the kiss and held her eyes as I unhooked the corner of towel that was keeping it up. It fell in a puddle around her, and she gently nudged me backwards into the pillows. One long kiss turned into a makeout session. Zofi was in no hurry, but her end goal was now quite clear.

Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I rolled us over so that I was on top. Again, my lips left hers to explore other parts of her body, but this time I didn’t stop at her neck or chest - I kissed down her body to finish what I’d begun earlier. She opened herself to me as I took long, languid licks along her slit and teased her protruding clit. I pressed two fingers inside her moist velvet pussy and tickled her g-spot. I scratched her ribcage with my fingernails. I traced my thumbs along her underboob. And I even massaged her arms when I pushed her too far and had to calm her back down from the brink.

And then it was finally time. She had waited long enough, and the moment had come. I had my tongue wrapped around her clit while sucking powerfully. I had two fingers inside her slit, curling them to scrape my fingertips against her g-spot. She felt me teasing her right up to the precipice of orgasm, and perhaps knew I was going to pull her back from the edge once more. But at last she’d had enough of the teasing, and her hands were suddenly on my head, yanking my hair up by the roots and moaning, “Now, darling! Now!”

I scrambled up in a hurry, notching my cockhead into her open petals. Zofi’s blue eyes blazed brilliantly as she stared straight at my face, wanting to memorize the way I looked at her as I entered her body for the first time.

“Now, darling, please!” she crooned, gripping my forearms where my hands were planted to either side of her head. And then she gasped, her mouth gaping wide open as she felt her virgin pussy being slowly filled with my dick for the very first time.

Zofi shuddered abruptly, a jerk that nearly dislodged me since I only had the first two inches in. But then smoothly, I pushed forward until I was buried all the way in to the hilt. And then… only then… I felt her orgasm begin as a small ripple deep within the very center of her being.

One ripple became two. Two ripples became four, and then eight, and then sixteen, and by then the escalation was inevitable. Like a low rumbling timpani drumroll, her orgasm built in a crescendo from deep within until her hips and shoulders started shaking, then her knees and elbows, finally her feet and hands, and at last it erupted out from her gaping mouth.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Zofi screamed.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” she screamed again.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” I was surprised the neighbors didn’t call 911.

Zofi’s world ended. Everything about her exploded outward like a supernova until nothing was left but a tiny pebble at her center.

And for a little while, the universe was filled with light.

****

When the light faded away and her world began anew, Zofi blinked her eyes open to find me kissing her softly. Her arms held me close, our naked bodies pressed chest to chest. She clutched my shoulders, breathing deeply and still trembling as she fought to recover from the greatest orgasm of her life.

“Matty?” she rasped, her voice cracking.

“Welcome back to Earth, mój skarbie,” I greeted with a smile.

“Wha--? What happened?”

I chuckled. “I think you came.”

Zofi blinked up at me as her brain rebooted, trying to assimilate memories of the past two minutes of ecstasy beyond anything she’d experienced. “I don’t… I…” Closing her eyes, she concentrated before groaning, “I’m so fucking FULL.”

I chuckled again. “Yeah. Can’t imagine why,” I deadpanned.

Zofi clenched her inner muscles around my cock, muttering, “So this is what all the fuss is about.”

“Yep.”

She shook her head like I didn’t understand. “Sam’s pushed dildoes in there before. She popped my cherry last year. But this is so… different… especially holding you on top of me. It feels… intimate. Like a warm hug, but… on the inside.” She hugged me with her pussy muscles again for emphasis.

I hugged her back with all four limbs.

Looking up at me, Zofi searched my eyes with her bright blue ones. “I remember you pushing in, but after that the memories get a bit fuzzy,” she said with a frown.

“Well you started cumming pretty hard. Here…” I pulled myself all the way out, feeling her tight pussy walls squeezing me the entire way. Her labia partially closed again after my exit, not yet used to being stretched in this manner. So re-entry was almost the same as the initial push, having to slowly pry apart her pink walls and burrow deep inside.

“Oooh,” Zofi sighed, as inch after inch of Matty cock penetrated her virgin canal. “Do that again.”

So I did it again. And again. And again.

By the fourth repetition, I no longer pulled all the way out, withdrawing until my mushroom head was still inside and then smoothly driving back in deep. Zofi stared at my face the whole time, concentrated on the expressions on my face and the way I looked at her, my enjoyment of her body quite obvious.

We started making out again. For a relationship that had started years ago with an illicit makeout session that prompted the creation of The Rule, we had come full circle, passionately Frenching but now as a part of making love. Zofi moaned beneath me, stroking my shoulders and caressing my cheeks in between kisses. And all the while I continued to pump myself back and forth through her tight tunnel, the pleasure amplifying the emotions we felt for each other.

At one point, I braced my forehead against the side of the mattress beside her. She clutched me close and listened to me grunting as I repeatedly fucked her nubile body. Apart from those first two minutes of going completely out of her mind, she was a quiet lover, whimpering softly and moaning but not screaming nor shouting obscenities for me to fuck her harder. Instead, she repeated over and over again, “Darling… darling… darling…”

The nickname kept me grounded. Every time the urge to grab her and fuck the shit out of her welled up inside me, her whimpered “darling” reminded me to be tender. I wrapped up her thin body in my arms, squeezing her tightly while our bodies sinuously writhed together in harmony. She intertwined her long, lithe legs around mine so that our ankles were hooked together. I used my leg muscles to help me drive myself into her, and she kissed my neck and whimpered her pleasure all the while.

Desperate to make her cum again, I slipped a leg between hers and started grinding down on her clit as if we were tribbing (albeit with my dick in her cunt), and that’s when Zofi really came alive. She started fucking back at me, grabbing my ass and practically masturbating herself with my pelvic bone. Her moans increased in volume and she started kissing me a little more ferociously. And when her next climax arrived, her inner muscles squeezing and hugging my cock so intimately inside her, she crooned into my ear, “You’re making me cum, darling! You’re making me cum!”

Her words drove me to drive into her even harder.

Eventually, Zofi kicked her leg over so that we were now in a spooning position. Our feet were still tangled to help us lock together, and I wrapped an arm around to palm her breast for leverage while I pounded away at her firm little rump. My cock pistoned smoothly in and out of her still-tight pussy, and as I felt the tingle in my balls, I groaned, “I’m gonna cum, Zofi. I’m gonna cum in your virgin pussy.”

“Yessss…” she hissed. “Cum in me, darling. Fill me with your seed.”

“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna fill you!”

“Fill me! Flood my womb and fill me! Cum, darling, cum!”

“Nnnnnggaaaahhh!!!” I groaned as I felt my balls come to a boil. Wrapping both arms around her bosom, I pinned Zofi against my chest and slammed my hips forward one final time. Over and over again, I spurted great gobs of sperm into the exquisite brunette’s beautiful body.

And all the while she moaned, “Cum in me, darling! Cum, darling, cummmm!!!”

So I came.

And then we rested.

****

My “girlfriend” and I stayed spooned together for a long while, both of us awash in the afterglow. I was coming down from blowing my brains out through my penis, and she was lost in thought while slowly rubbing her clit and scratching the base of my cock where it protruded out from her. The ticklish sensation of her manicured fingernails was enough to keep me hard a little longer than usual, but eventually my cock shrank and I slipped out.

Zofi glanced down at the trickle of cream oozing out of her and grinned. “Too bad Sam isn’t here to suck out my first creampie.”

I groaned. “That can be arranged for next time if you’re interested.”

Instead, Zofi scooped out a thick glob on her fingertips and held them up so I could see her digits glistening in the angled light coming from the desk lamp. Then she popped them into her mouth, sucking my semen with relish while delighting in the look on my face.

She repeated the maneuver once more, but with diminishing returns from my expressions, she stopped after that and got up to grab a few tissues. After blotting up the rest of my spending, she tossed the tissues in the trash and reached over to her desk to retrieve her little digital camera, the same one she’d brought to Tahoe. Handing me the camera, she asked me to take pictures of her.

I arched an eyebrow. “You sure? You’re the one who said ‘maybe a polaroid, not digital’.”

“I’m sure. I wanna remember everything about today.” Zofi grinned. “Maybe I can show my mom a photo of your cum leaking out of me.”

I shot her a look.

Zofi laughed, saying, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Maybe you should just hang your bloody bedsheets out the window like a flag,” I drawled.

“Well maybe if I still had a hymen. I suppose I could let your spunk leak out into my panties and then leave them somewhere she’ll find them.”

“Zo-fi.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll think of something less vulgar.”

I sighed.

“C’mon. Picture time.”

I held up the camera. “Just remember, I’m an amateur at this.”

“How hard can it be? I look pretty, you click the button.”

I chuckled. “Well when you put it that way.”

One thing I definitely like about digital is that you can delete bad photos. Out of habit from a film camera, I kept waiting and waiting trying to get the perfect shot, and Zofi had to keep reminding me to just keep snapping and she’d delete them later.

I was trying to keep things tasteful – more Playboy and less Penthouse, if you know what I mean. Zofi made it really easy. She seemed incapable of looking trashy. One of my favorites had her reclining on her left side propped up with a pillow and her left elbow. She kept her head erect, silky dark hair draped over her right eye and right shoulder. Two fingers of her right hand covered her nipple while the left nipple was obscured by the pillow. And the bedsheets were bunched up between her thighs just enough to cover her pussy.

Most shots were like that. I artfully covered her with the bedsheets or pillows. I had her adjust her arm positions and hands, and she could cross her legs to cover her crotch. Of course, her nipples and pussy couldn’t be obscured in every shot. Sometimes she was half-covered, sometimes not, but never really lewd. There were some photos I would personally keep in my mental spank bank, and in a few of them, you could even see my cum leaking out of her pussy if you looked hard enough. I actually didn’t see that myself the first night. But Zofi let the BTC see the photos later on, and Belle pointed it out to me.

Even in hindsight, looking back at the photos days after they were taken, I was struck by how relaxed and content Zofi looked. I’ve often described her as “model-esque” or various versions of that to express her beauty and figure, but she really was a natural model. She was so relaxed in front of the camera, pleased to be part of the process. She had her insecurities like so many other girls her age, and yet was completely at ease showing off the beauty of her own form even sans clothing.

The two of us had loaded the pictures onto her computer and gone through them on the big screen instead of the tiny display on the back of her camera. Staring at shot after erotically-charged shot of Zofi’s gorgeous naked body had me pretty hard again, and once we finished I was eager to start a fresh makeout session. But Zofi broke away and said, “Sam told me we just HAD to try it in the shower.”

We did. Zofi is REALLY flexible - have I ever told you that? She was able to brace herself with one hand against the wall and do a full vertical split with one foot straight up in the air, like a true ballerina. It made entry quite easy, and I fucked the hell out of her that way. This time, she wanted to me to cum in her mouth as not to leak anything out overnight. I was happy to see her exquisite face sucking my schlong beneath the shower’s spray as she swallowed every last drop of my sperm.

Finally, we crawled into Zofi’s bed and spooned together, happily sated and clean. She’d even let me borrow her toothbrush. As I kissed the back of her neck and fondled her naked breast, I realized I’d finally had a first time with one of the girls that hadn’t been a disaster.

Sam taking my virginity had been an ill-thought impulse that lasted only seventeen seconds and involved quite a lot of crying. Belle’s deflowering had ended in abject misery and resulted in her walking funny for a week. Oh yeah, and more crying. Mari’s date had gone comically wrong in the beginning, although it ended pretty well (tearful confession notwithstanding). And my first time with Naimh had resulted in Alice storming out and leaving the BTC for a month.

But today?

Today had been AMAZING.

Flush with that afterglow, I turned Zofi so she could pillow her head on my chest and asked, “How are you feeling?”

With a serene smile of utter contentment, she looked up at me with large, liquid blue eyes. Rubbing my chest, she murmured, “I’ve realized two things.”

I wasn’t expecting an answer like that, and I glanced down at her. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, she furrowed her eyebrows and stated evenly, “I’m going to Princeton if I get in.”

Her words were like a hammer to my heart. I was surprised to feel it hit me that hard. I’d long known the BTC would more than likely break up eventually, but Zofi’s pronouncement was the first confirmation from one of the girls that they would move away. I mean, she hadn’t gotten in yet or anything, but I knew how smart she was, and she was a legacy applicant through her father, so the odds were good. I wasn’t in love with Zofi or anything, but I did love her. And to realize that this very dear young woman with whom I’d shared such a special day would be leaving…

I mean, in all likelihood, Zofi would be drifting out of my life in just a few short months. I would MISS her. And I resolved to get a copy of that one close-up photo from the museum, the one with her looking at me with complete adoration.

I swallowed to fight back the emotions rising up my throat, and blinked away the moisture forming in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “What’s the second thing you realized?”

Zofi tilted her head up to search my eyes. And in a quiet but quietly certain voice, she stated seriously, “If you’re willing, I want to have your baby.”