Shoulda Seen that Coming

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

This is the story of how I lost my virginity, and at the same time lost my boyfriend. No, that's not quite right--let me start again.

I want to tell you the story of how my cousin helped me lose my virginity, and at the same time, stole my boyfriend. By stole, I don't mean to imply that I lost him entirely, because I haven't. But she ended up marrying him and I... well, as my cousin frequently reminds us, "At least we're keeping it within the family." But that's another story.

You have to understand that this all happened a long time ago--before cell phones and personal computers, before the Internet and cable television. It was the summer I turned nineteen, and my parents had decided to take a sight-seeing trip into the United States--without me. I was an only child and they were quite protective of me (well, my mother definitely was), so they arranged for my cousin Salome to come and stay with me while they were away.

Of course Salome is not her real name--as Jack Webb used to say, "The names have been changed to protect the innocent." Not that Salome was ever innocent.

Salome is my mother sister's (Aunt Ruby) daughter, my first cousin. She's almost two years older than I am, and she's always been like the older sister I'd never had. Not that we grew up together--Salome and her family lived a two and a half hour drive away--but the families visited one another often enough that we saw each other sat least four times a year.

Wilfred and I (names have been changed, remember) had been boyfriend-girlfriend for about two years. Secretly. As I mentioned, my parents were very protective, and although I'd been allowed to date when I turned seventeen, it was only if I was chaperoned. My parents knew about Wilfred--at least, they knew him as my sometime math and science tutor. He came to my house two or three times a week to help me study. Wilfred wasn't much to look at--nerdy, under-developed, glasses, quiet and shy. My parents weren't at all worried about him.

And quite frankly, I wasn't any great beauty myself. I mean, okay, my figure wasn't too bad--my hips and bottom maybe a bit larger than ideal for my top part, but my boobs were okay, even if you could barely notice them under the klutzy clothes my mother made me wear to school. And I had unattractive glasses and crooked teeth.

The summer he and I turned eighteen, Wilfred started coming over to my house while my parents were at work. We'd sit and play cards, and cuddle and kiss. We were both younger than our years and naive, and it felt pretty wicked when I let him unfasten my bra and touch my breasts (inside my blouse, of course. Heaven forbid he should see anything!)

Fast forward to my nineteenth summer and things have progressed a bit between us. Wilfred and I have managed to get to second base (who decided on baseball as a metaphor for physical intimacy, anyway?), and we arranged for him to sneak into the house after my parents left for work, come up to my bedroom, and get into bed with me. Him fully clothed, and me in my baby-doll pajamas.

One Friday evening, late in July, my Aunt Ruby, her husband, Uncle Jack, and Salome arrive at our front door, and I find out that the adults are taking off early next morning for a two week sightseeing trip to the United States, and that Salome will be staying with me while they're gone. Surprise!

Monday morning Salome and I are wakened by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. I know immediately that it's Wilfred. I'd completely forgotten our arrangement. And Salome is sharing my bed.

It gets worse. We were in the middle of a heat wave, our house didn't have air-conditioning, and even at night two bodies in the same bed became uncomfortably warm. So the two of us were sleeping in as little as possible. Just panties.

So Wilfred steps through the open doorway into my bedroom and freezes. Salome is on the side of the bed nearest the door and she's got the bed sheet down around her waist, and her bare boobs are on full display.

At this point I should mention that my mother and Aunt Ruby are twins and Salome and I share a lot of physical attributes. So much so that, at a distance, we could be mistaken for one another.. Okay, so she was prettier, didn't wear glasses, and had perfect teeth, but body-wise we were very similar. Except her boobs were just that little bit fuller and perkier. I mean, mine were pretty good, but hers... And she wasn't shy about showing them off. Oh, and she has no tan lines. Anywhere. Come summer time, she and Aunt Ruby sunbathe in the nude in their back yard. My mother has been scandalized by her sister's immodesty since they were little girls.

Wilfred's eyes are glued to Salome and her gorgeous breasts. This is definitely not the way I want him to meet my cousin. If I had my way they wouldn't be meeting at all. But it's too late now. Salome turns onto her side facing him and looks him up and down.

I'm still not comfortable with him seeing me naked to the waist and I snatch the sheet up to my neck and yell at him. "Wilfred!"

Salome makes no move to cover herself up. She turns her head to me, and raises an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?" she asks.

At that moment I can only think of two options:

I say no. But then how do I explain what he's doing in my bedroom?

I say yes. But then how do I explain what he's doing in my bedroom?

I end up blurting out both. "No!... Yes!" I sigh in resignation. "Salome, Wilfred. Wilfred, Salome. My cousin."

Salome looks him up and down again and smiles, like a cat playing with a mouse. "Not bad, Delilah (not my real name). A boyfriend. I didn't think you had it in you. Are you sleeping together?"

"NO!" (Yeah, I shouted that. I didn't want to leave any doubt.)

"So what's he doing in your bedroom?" (I told you she was going to ask that.)

Now I have to try and explain why Wilfred has an open invitation to come into my bedroom early in the morning and climb into bed with me.

Aargh! (Yeah, I pulled the sheet over my head and screamed.)

"Umm. Should I go?" Wilfred asks. Bless his sweet, gentle heart.

I flip the sheet off my face. "No. Stay."

Salome is now sitting up, the sheet pooled around her hips and thighs, and her breasts hardly sag at all. I hate her. She looks at me and waits.

I sigh again. "Wilfred and I have been seeing each other secretly for about two years now. My parents know him, but they don't know he's my boyfriend." I glare at her as fiercely as I can. "You. Can't. Tell. Them."

Salome raises her hands in mock surrender. "My lips are sealed." Another wicked smile. "But it's going to cost you." (Yeah, I saw that one coming.)

"We've been kissing and stuff, but that's all," I try to explain. "I just wanted to know... what it might be like... to have him in bed with me. You know. Cuddling, Spooning. Sleeping."

Salome giggles. "Sleeping. Together. But not sleeping together."

"I told him he has to keep his clothes on."

"Well, don't let me stop you."

Salome examines Wilfred again, still standing in the open doorway, then turns to me with an evil grin. "You know, it's pretty warm already, and if he gets into bed between us, with all his clothes on, he;'s going to get pretty sweaty."

"What are you getting at?" I'd known Salome all my life. She was up to something.

Salome pats the space in the bed between us. "Wilfred, why don't you shuck down to your underpants and come into bed with us?"

Wilfred's jaw drops. His face turns pink.

"SALOME!" (Yeah, I shouted again.)

"What?" she says innocently. (I did mention she was never innocent, right?)

"He can't!" I cry. "Not... naked!"

"He's not going to be naked," Salome says calmly. "Although if you want him to be, I don't mind. I'd kind of like to see what's making that bulge in his pants."

My eyes slide to Wilfred's groin, and there's a definite bulge in the front of his pants.

I'd seen that bulge before, of course, and felt it against me--but I usually tried to ignore it because I knew it embarrassed Wilfred. The first time it happened he was almost in tears apologizing. Wilfred is a very private and self-disciplined person, and I knew he felt betrayed by this obvious sign of his sexual arousal. I really hadn't been upset by it, in fact I'd felt a glow of pride that my body could do that to his. We had a long talk about it that afternoon, and the intimacy that developed between us has never faded.

I have to pause here and give you a bit of our back story. Wilfred first tried to touch my breasts a few weeks after we'd started kissing. Salome had warned me about boys and their obsession with boobs, so I wasn't surprised. But I pushed his hand away. "Don't," I said.

A month later our high school class went on a field trip to a grand old mansion that had been partially converted into a museum. The main part of the tour had finished, and we had an hour before the bus left, and we were free to browse the collections or peruse the gift shop. Wilfred found a nondescript door that opened onto an unused study, in which there was a couch. We closed the door behind us and settled down for a kissing session.

The back of my blouse came loose from my skirt, and Wilfred put his hand underneath to stroke the bare skin on my lower back. I liked him doing that and I snuggled into him. Our kisses got pretty hot.. His hand went a bit too high and touched my bra strap. I giggled and kissed him harder. (We were in a public place. What could happen?) Wilfred continued to stroke my back, occasionally slipping his fingers under the strap to rub the skin there.

I don't know what prompted me, but for some reason, instead of telling him to leave my bra alone, I said, "If that comes undone, you have to do it back up." Well, of course, I might as well have said, "Go ahead and undo it." because that's exactly what he did. And we kissed for another half hour, with him gently stroking my unimpeded back. He tried fastening my bra strap back up without looking, but when that didn't work, I had to let him push up the back of my blouse so he could see what he was doing.

From then on, whenever we were alone and kissing, my bra came undone. When I knew we were going to be together I wore blouses that buttoned up the back, so he could have easier access to put things back the way they were supposed to be. Pretty quickly our kissing sessions saw me lying on top of him, my back completely bare, with his hands roaming free over my exposed skin. And if it happened (and it often did) that the hooks and straps would get badly tangled, I would sit up with my back to him, take off my blouse and bra, and hand the bra to him to untangle, It felt so daring to be sitting in front of him nude to the waist. And he never tried to peek around to my front.

So that's where we were when "the accident" happened--two weeks before Salome arrived. Summer vacation had just started and it was our first time together in more than a month. It was a hot day, and I chose a flimsy old blouse to wear with my shorts. It was years old, and was a little tight across the chest. The cotton was thin, and the button holes stretched and worn.

We lay on the couch in the living room, me on top facing him, and he pushed his hands underneath my blouse to undo my bra. Of course the buttons over my boobs popped open, but I didn't bother trying to do them back up. He stroked my back for a while and we kissed a bit, and then I turned over onto my back so he could fondle my boobs. (Yeah my blouse was open. So what?) I dozed off. Wilfred's caresses managed to nudge my bra further north and pop open the rest of my buttons, 'accidentally' uncovering my breasts.

I woke, realized that my chest was completely exposed, and with a scream rolled onto my stomach on the couch, spilling Wilfred off onto the floor. I was so embarrassed but the whole situation was ridiculous; I knew it was too late to act modest, so all I could do was laugh helplessly. Wilfred apologetically offered to put me back together. Keeping my chest firmly against the couch I helped him take off my blouse. And then he said, "Lift up and I'll put your bra back in place."

I had to have known what would happen--I mean, I wasn't that naive, was I?--but I pushed up on my arms. and of course my boobs swung free right in front of his face. I squealed again and threw myself flat, but the cats were out of the bag and I couldn't put them back in again. And now we were both laughing.

To tell you the truth, Wilfred finally seeing my boobs was a relief. The big question now was: What did he think of them? Too big? (I wish) Too small? Did he love them or hate them? So I allowed him to coax me into turning onto my back. I kept my hands over my boobs while I turned, and watched his face carefully as I moved my hands away. His eyes grew wide, and he looked me in the eyes and he whispered (yes, whispered, in awe). "They're beautiful!." And I loved him even more.

At that moment, if he'd asked to see me completely naked, I might have let him. But instead he asked, "Can I kiss them?"

Whoa! Well, we had a bit of a discussion about that. Eventually I watched carefully as he pressed his lips first to the right one, then to the left. That was when I first really noticed him get erect.

Seeing the interest on Salome's face makes me realize that Wilfred's endowment is... significant. (Like I said, I was pretty naive.)

"Don't tell me you've never seen each other in your underwear," Salome mock whispers.

Salome always knew how to push my buttons. Sure, Wilfred had been in my bed a few times and had seen me in my baby doll pajamas (and a couple of days before Salome, I'd even let him take off my top). But I'd never seen him less than fully clothed. There was no way I was going to admit that to her.

"Of course I have," I lie. "But... oh, never mind."

Salome looks at Wilfred (cat/canary). "You heard her. Get out of those clothes and come into bed." She pats the space between us again.

Wilfred gets that deer in the headlights look. "You want me to...?" He waves his hands vaguely in the general direction of his pants.

"You're not going to turn down two sexy girls in their panties asking you into bed, are you?"

The bulge in Wilfred's pants jumps, and his face grows even pinker. "Umm, no."

He walks over to my dressing table, turns his back to us, and slowly undresses, folding each piece of clothing neatly onto my dressing table chair.

Underneath his shirt and slacks he's wearing a simple pair of white briefs. He has a pretty well-developed derriere, and his legs are strong and straight. But I could see his ribs and shoulder blades and the bones of his spine. He turns around, hands clasped modestly over the front of his briefs, hurries to my side of the bed, clambers over my feet into the space between Salome and me, and slithers himself under the sheet.

Wilfred and I are afraid to look at one another, and we both lie quiet, side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Salome waits for a few minutes, then... "Aren't you going to kiss each other?"

"What!?" (Yeah, I know. I should have expected that.)

Wilfred turns his head and stares at her.

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he? You're in bed together. In your underpants. Kiss him."

We'd always done all our kissing in private. Kiss him? In front of Salome?

Wilfred turns his head to look at me.

I still have the sheet pulled up to my neck. Wilfred's chest is partly exposed. And Salome, of course, is shamelessly naked to the waist.

I sigh (I think that's my third) and turn my head to peck Wilfred on the lips.

"That's not a kiss! Come on, Delilah! You can do better than that!"

Sigh number four: I keep the sheet between our chests while I roll half on top of him and press my lips to his in a big, warm kiss. Wilfred unfreezes and kisses back.

Wilfred is a good kisser. We'd practiced a lot over the past year or so, and he'd learned pretty quickly what I liked and didn't like. His lips are warm and firm, but also soft. No wet slobber. Sometimes, if we were both pretty excited, he would touch the tip of his tongue to my lips, and sometimes I would touch it with mine.

We touch tongues. And then I lie back in my place, still clutching the sheet.

"That's better," Salome coos. "But now I feel left out. Is it okay if I kiss him, too?"

I did not see that one coming, and I was flummoxed. On the surface of it, it was an innocent enough request. But as I think I've already mentioned, Salome was anything but innocent. I stall. "You want to kiss my boyfriend?"

"Uh-huh." Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

I wanted to say no. I really did. "Just one."

Salome doesn't wait. She flips over, tugs the sheet clear of Wilfred's chest, and presses herself against him. The kiss seems to last for hours, and to Wilfred's credit, it was only towards the end that he touched his hands to her bare back.

Salome finally breaks the kiss and settles herself beside him on one elbow, her perfect boobs practically in his face. "You're a good kisser," Her voice is like buckwheat honey, spicy and sweet. "Did Delilah teach you? Or are you a natural."

Wilfred's face is back to pink. "A little of both, I guess."

I can't stand it; my horny cousin is flirting with my boyfriend. I push down the sheet and fling myself on top of him, pressing my mouth and my breasts onto him shamelessly. I poke my tongue into his mouth. His arms clasp around me and pull me tighter, and we kiss with a passion I've never felt before. The hard warmth of his erection is only two thin layers of cotton away from my belly and I don't care.

"I have to pee," Salome suddenly announces. We both look at her. She hops out of bed and crosses the hallway to the bathroom, sashaying her hips like a hooker. Wilfred can't resist staring. I grab his head, turn it towards me, and kiss him some more. A couple minutes later the toilet flushes, loud enough that I know she hasn't closed the bathroom door, and she comes back in.

"Break it up, you two," she says. "I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?"

I insist on all of us getting dressed. Salome tries to cajole me out of it but there's no way I want Wilfred staring at her boobs while we're eating. I don't like the way that bulge in the front of his briefs jumps at the sight of them.

"Fine, then," she pouts. "But I'm only putting on a t-shirt."

I know she's gonna wear the thinnest, tightest top she can find, but I don't argue. Salome struts around my bedroom "looking for something to wear". While Wilfred is distracted I slide out of bed, grab the clothes I was wearing the night before and run into the bathroom to dress.

Yeah, I was still shy around Wilfred. Okay, he'd seen my boobs a few times, including that morning, but I'd always been fully dressed below, except when I was in my pajamas. (But that didn't count, right?) I wasn't ready for him to see me in my panties. Never mind being naked.

Salome puts on a top that barely reaches her waist, and so tight her nipples are poking through. After breakfast we play Monopoly until Salome gets bored and suggests we play cards. "Strip poker," she grins. I veto that idea. No way do I want Wilfred seeing her naked body next to mine.

"What do you guys normally do when you're alone?" Salome asks.

"We usually just lie on the couch and neck," Wilfred answers. I feel like strangling him.

Salome's smile is sweet enough to cause cavities. "Do you mind if I watch?"

"Umm... sure. Okay," Wilfred stammers. And now I'm ready to kill her as well. Slowly.

But Salome isn't done--not by a long shot. "You know, it's really warm in here." She was right; it was very warm, "It'll be even warmer with Delilah on top of you. Don't you think you'd be more comfortable if you were both in your underpants? Like you were this morning?"

I knew what she was up to. She was going to sit and watch us and get herself off. She wasn't shy about doing it, either. She'd been the one who taught me how, persuading me to try it with her, then showing off her favorite ways of doing it. It was part of her usual bedtime routine, and whenever we shared a bedroom (every time our families visited) she'd insist I do it with her.

"In our... underpants?" Wilfred croaks. He stares at me. "Is that okay?"

No, it's not okay! I'm desperate to find a way out, and I'm cursing Wilfred for remembering our morning tryst, and cursing myself for not telling him about Salome's visit. I draw a blank. I was all over Wilfred this morning in bed, and I can't think of a single excuse for not doing it now. Sh*t! An expurgated curse explodes in my mind.

"Sure. Why not." I'm not happy.

I fumble open the buttons on my blouse and unhook my bra. Wilfred has his shirt off and is nervously undoing his pants. I check to see where Salome's eyes are and find them firmly focused on Wilfred's groin. Wilfred hesitates, anxiously looking at Salome.

Nobody's watching me. I let my blouse and bra fall away and unfasten my shorts. Wilfred's pants drift down his legs. There's a big bulge in the front of his white briefs. Hastily he kicks his legs free of his pants and lies down on the couch. I wriggle out of my shorts and lie down on top of him. His bulge is warm and hard between us. He shifts restlessly beneath me, trying to make it comfortable.

I've never been so aware of his manhood before. Even in bed this morning it wasn't so... insistent. I quickly check over my shoulder at Salome sitting in the armchair. Sure enough she's pulled off her top leaving her evenly tanned boobs on full display, and she's rubbing her small, pink nipples. Worse, her legs are open and the thin strip of nylon between her legs barely hides what's inside. Desperately I lunge at Wilfred's face and press my open lips firmly against his.

I'd fantasized about doing it with Wilfred, of course. Granted he wasn't much to look at, but he was smart, and kind, and gentle, and I liked being with him. I liked kissing him, and I liked him touching me. He wasn't pushy about our physical relations--he pretty much left it to me to decide how far we went. And I'd grown to love him.

And now... I was pretty sure that if anything further was going to happen with us, it had to be this summer, and probably these two weeks that my parents were away. Come the fall Wilfred was going off to university. He'd only be two and a half hours away, but I wouldn't see him for almost a whole year, and there'd be college girls, and I'd heard lots of stories about what college girls were like.

Reading over this it sounds like I was rather cool and calculating, but I really wasn't. I was almost nineteen, a naive, inexperienced girl with a confusion of feelings about her body and a boy who confused those feelings even more. And my sexy cousin was pushing me and flirting with him at the same time.

I was supremely conscious of our bare skin--my tits on his bare chest, my nipples growing hard and stiff. Just two thin layers of cotton between me and full contact. That and Salome's eyes.

No! There was no way I wanted to do it with her staring at us. I did not want her critiquing my first time. Yes, I was hoping it was going to happen--sometime in the next ten days would be nice--but my fantasies about my first time had never included Salome. More than anything right now I wanted Wilfred's attention completely on me and not peering over my shoulder at whatever Salome was doing. (A picture flashes into my mind of Salome, panties down to her ankles, legs apart, her pink, pretty girl parts open to Wilfred's wide-open eyes, her fingers playing sexy little games.)

I know just enough about boys for a hazy plan to form in my mind. I adjust myself on top of his body, still kissing as passionately as I know how. I wriggle my hips and groin into what I hope is the correct spot over his bulge. His hands are moving over the bare skin of my back, and I catch them in mine, pulling them lower. And slide them UNDER my panties. Onto my bare bottom.

Wilfred freezes. His bulge twitches and jumps against my groin. I hold a moment, waiting. His hands grasp the fleshy parts of my buttocks, and I tilt my hips, rubbing my crotch over his. His moan vibrates against my mouth. I make a sound that I hope is sexy, and rub against him again. I feel him stiffen. His hands on my butt pull me hard against him and he shudders and cries, and there's a growing, warm wetness between our bellies.

Suddenly I'm alone on the couch and he's dashing for the downstairs bathroom. I glance at Salome. Her hand is between her naked thighs, and she's staring at me, her mouth open. Her eyes settle on my panties and I feel the wetness there cooling.

"Is that the first time he's done that?"

"Uh-huh."

"Welcome to the club."

"Delilah?" Wilfred's voice calls from the barely open bathroom door. "Bring me my clothes, please?"

Yuck! My belly feels icky and wet. I push his shirt and pants through the gap in the bathroom door and run upstairs to wash and change my panties.

When I come down, Wilfred is at the front door. "You're going?" I ask.

"Uh-huh. I'll talk to you tomorrow." And he's gone. Not even a goodbye kiss.

The next day, after lunch, Wilfred knocks at the front door. "Is it safe to come in?" he asks when I open it.

"Yeah," I tell him. "We're both dressed."

I tell Salome we need to talk privately and send her up to my bedroom. Wilfred and I sit awkwardly on the couch.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," he begins.

"No. It was my fault," I stop him. "I did that on purpose."

Wilfred stares at me. "Why?"

"Because Salome was watching us. My parents are away for two weeks, and she's here until they get back."

"Oh." Wilfred's voice is disappointed. "So I should stay away?"

"No! I want you here. Just--we have to talk."

"Talk?" His voice is wary.

"It's not bad," I hurry to assure him. "Just--this week and next--it's our best chance."

"Best chance?" Honestly, for someone so smart, he could be pretty dumb.

I sigh. "Wilfred, you're going away to university in a month. I won't see you for almost a year, and I don't know if you're going to meet some smart, pretty college girl and..."

He waits, not saying anything.

I sigh again. "If we're going to have sex, we have to do it before my parents get back. Salome or no Salome."

"Oh." He stares past my shoulder, thinking. I wait. "My parents are leaving Friday for a weekend shopping in Minneapolis."

"Oh." It was a perfect opportunity. "So you could sleep over?"

Wilfred nodded.

I groan in frustration. "Salome will still be here. What do we do about her?"

"We'll have to tell her the truth."

I sigh. "I suppose." I look into his lovely, pale blue, spectacled eyes. "What do we do if she wants to watch?"

Wilfred looks shocked. "You think she will?"

"Remember yesterday? When you ran to the bathroom, she was... touching herself."

"Touching...? Oh."

"Yeah."

"We can't really do anything to stop her, can we? If she wants to, that is."

I stare at him. "Are you saying...?"

Wilfred pulls me close beside him in a comfortable, one-armed hug. "I love you. I don't think any pretty college girl is going to look twice at me. But you're right. We don't know what will happen while I'm away. If you want to..." He swallows nervously. "I don't care if Salome decides to watch us."

I'm not sure how I feel. I think I want to do it with him, but it's scary and... Would Salome really want to watch us? Yeah, she totally would.

I kiss him warmly. "I have to think about it."

I call Salome downstairs and point to the chair where she sat the day before. "Sit." I take a breath. "Wilfred is going to sleep over Friday and Saturday and we might have sex."

Salome's eyebrow rises. "Really? That sounds like fun. Am I invited?"

My heart falls. "Invited? You mean to watch?"

Salome's smile is naughty. "Well, okay. But I was really hoping to do more than that."

"More?" The implications of 'more' explode in my brain. "You want to have sex with my boyfriend?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking about doing it with you. You're my cousin. Although it does sound deliciously kinky. But if you want to, I don't mind trying it."

Salome shifts forward in the chair. Her usual, flirty smile is replaced by a look of sincerity. "Delilah, most of the guys I date are hunks and jocks, and they're just so full of themselves. Nice nerdy boys like your Wilfred are too scared of me to even ask if I'd like to go out. Just the couple of times I've seen you together, I know he cares for you. And when he kissed me yesterday, it was really sweet. I don't often get a chance to enjoy a kiss like that. So, yeah. If you don't mind, I'd like to watch the two of you. And when you're done, I'd kinda like to have a turn. See what it's like to do it with a nice boy."

And I suddenly feel sorry for her. I look at Wilfred, to see his reaction.

He sees my look. "It's up to you. I'll go along with whatever you say."

I believe Wilfred. I look at Salome. "If I say no, I want you to promise you'll leave him alone."

The sincere expression stays on Salome's face. She nods. "I promise."

I believe her.

I loved Wilfred, and I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. But we weren't married and chances weren't good that we ever would be. And I'd always assumed that if we did get married we'd wait for our wedding night before having sex. But the thought of all those college girls had me worried. How could I possibly stop him from having sex with them if he got the chance?

I contemplated Salome. She was a college girl. And she wanted to do it with my Wilfred. She knew a lot about sex. If I let her do it with him, and I watched how she did it, I could try to copy whatever she did. That might be my one chance to hang on to Wilfred. That was my dilemma. Try to keep Wilfred just to myself and lose him to the first pretty college girl that made a play for him. Or let Salome loose on him and hope I could pick up enough of her sexual know-how to keep him from being tempted by other college girls.

I want to cry. This is not how I imagined I'd be losing my virginity. "Okay," I hear myself say. "Wilfred will come over Friday morning and we'll do it then. Wilfred says he doesn't mind if you want to watch, so I guess that's okay. If... IF..." I shake my finger at her. "If I decide to let you... with him... I get to be there, and you will teach me everything you know how to do with a boy."

Salome smiles (cat/canary again). "Of course."

Salome has a spare diaphragm, and Thursday night she helps me put it in. It feels a little weird, but after a while I almost forget it's there.

Wilfred arrives just after eight Friday morning. "My parents got an early start," he announces. He drops a knapsack on the bedroom floor, turns his back, and strips down to his underwear. He joins us in bed.

I get a kiss, and so does Salome, and she scoots down to the end of the bed. This is it.

Wilfred kisses me again, and Salome pulls the sheet away from us. I'm nervous. I don't know what to expect. Salome had given me some tips the night before. "Do a lot of kissing and touching," she'd said. "You need to be wet inside, otherwise it's not going to feel good. Keep it simple--stay on your back and let him come into you. Your bodies will know what to do after that."

We kiss and touch until I feel I'm ready. I try pulling down his briefs one-handed, but I can't manage and he has to help me. I raise my bum so he can slide my panties down. We're both naked.

I think I mentioned that Wilfred's upper body was quite scrawny. His lower half, though, is close to Greek statue grade. To my virgin eyes his erect penis looks huge. How is that ever going to fit into me?

I tear my eyes away to sneak a quick glance at Salome. Her eyebrows are almost into her hairline and I swear she's salivating.

Back to Wilfred. Do a lot of kissing. I pull him down onto me and kiss him some more. His hardness seems to burn against my belly. He shifts onto his hip beside me. He bends his head to kiss my breast and I sigh in delight. His hand moves down over my belly, stopping when it reaches the hair covering my pubic mound. We've always been very careful not to touch each other there, and it startles me.

I feel like I should be doing something, but I don't know what. I close my eyes.. His fingers move even lower.

I found out later (from Salome of all people) that earlier that week Wilfred had gone to our local college library and read Masters and Johnson and learned about the clitoris.

I feel his fingers moving gently between my thighs. I hold my breath. This is completely new territory. I know how my own fingers feel down there, but this is different. So different. Wilfred's fingers feel nice. Very nice. They move up and down. He finds my sweet spot. How does he know about that? And pretty soon after that I stop thinking. I can feel him watching my face. My expressions and the noises I'm making guide him how and where to touch. He takes his time, gentle and patient.

His body moves between my legs, his torso above mine. I open my eyes to gaze up at him. Omigod! Here we go!. Time stops. I haven't ever touched him down there, but my hand finds him and pulls him toward where I think he should go. I feel him. There. I let go of him and close my eyes. A sudden jolt of... something. Pain? Pleasure? I cry out, surprised at the intensity.

Wilfred freezes. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I manage to gasp.

And then... he's inside me. INSIDE ME. A boy--Wilfred--is inside my body. It is so intimate. Wilfred lets out a gentle moan. I open my eyes. His face is a picture of blissful joy. He pulls back then forward again. The movement drags another gasp from me. I'm. Having. Sex. The feeling of him moving inside me is indescribable. I want it never to stop. The pleasure of it fills me, and I move with him. Suddenly he drives hard against me, crying out, shuddering. I hold him in my arms.

His relaxed weight is warm on my humming body. Did I orgasm? I think he did. I--we--had sex! Salome!

I turn my head to look at Salome. Her panties are hanging off one ankle, and her hand is busy between her thighs. She catches my glance and grins at me. 'Congratulations,' she mouths. I almost laugh out loud with joy.

A few minutes later Wilfred stirs. I realize he's still inside me. His pelvis grinds slowly against mine. I feel a movement inside me. He's growing? Hardening? He raises up on his arms and moves back and forth. I join in, joyously.

Wilfred lasts longer this time. Much longer. My orgasm leaves no doubt. He waits to let me enjoy it, then moves inside me again. I have another and he does, too.

I wake up to the feel of a slight roughness, wet and warm. Wilfred has a damp wash cloth between my thighs. In his other hand he has a towel. Having him touch my private place like that is a shock. Omigod! How sweet! I clamp my thighs together around his hand, pressing it into me. He grins in response, gently opens my legs and cleans me thoroughly. Everywhere. It's very intimate and I love him.

He pats me dry. Salome is watching us from the end of the bed, her smile a little sad and wistful. I look back at Wilfred, sitting on his heels between my open legs. Incredulously I realize he's erect. Again. And it looks even bigger. I look up into his face. "Do you want to do it again?" he asks.

Omigod! I can feel some tenderness down there. But he's my man, and I love the feeling of having him inside me. "Uh-huh," I nod, falling back onto my pillow.

And he's even more gentle this time, and the soreness gets lost in the pleasure. I orgasm and he doesn't stop. I have a couple more, and he finally has his. And he washes me again. He is just so sweet!. And thankfully, he stays down.

We have a late brunch, all of us still naked, and I'm a little uncomfortable walking. Wilfred helps me wash up the dishes and clean the kitchen. After we finish I step into him for a kiss. I quickly realize my mistake, seeing him stiffen into readiness.

"Wilfred! I can't!" I cry. "Not right now. Maybe tonight?"

Salome is sitting at the kitchen table. "I can take him," she croons.

Moment of truth. Do I let her? Or do I grit out the soreness and take him into me again? This morning was glorious, and I really don't feel any need to do it again. And Salome has been behaving herself.

I look at her and nod my head. "Okay."

The afternoon heat makes my bedroom too warm to use. I make them wait while I spread a towel out over the couch. They sit on the towel and I move to the armchair.

Salome reclines into the corner of the couch and cradles her boobs with her hands. "You like these?" she asks. As if she hadn't noticed Wilfred devouring them with his eyes.

Wilfred nods mutely.

"Show me how much," Salome purrs.

Wilfred stares at her.

Salome giggles. "You wanna suck my nipples?" she asks innocently. (I think we've established the lack of innocence on her part.)

Wilfred doesn't need another invitation.

It's obviously very pleasant for both of them, but after a while I'm starting to get bored.

That's when Salome starts giving me a crash course in Sex 101.

She starts out pushing Wilfred onto his back and taking the only part of him still standing into her mouth. I hadn't ever imagined that in my wildest fantasies, and I gawk in horrified amazement. But that gets boring after a while, too. Then she coaches Wilfred on how to do the same thing to her. And that I get very interested in.

Finally she matches up her girl parts with his boy parts, except she's the one on top, first facing him, then backwards. Later on she kneels at the end of the couch, closest to me, and gets Wilfred to enter her from behind. Finally they do it with her on her back and Wilfred on top

I have to admit that I enjoyed watching them, especially the views from behind Wilfred--his strong, round buttocks driving his stiff, thick shaft in and out of her pretty, pink puss. Seeing how much her tiny opening had to stretch to allow him in--I quickly understood how come I was so sore.

I know Wilfred had at least three orgasms. Salome had more--at least one while Wilfred was licking her, several while she was on top (although I thought one of those was a little overdone), and two or three more in other positions.

All in all it took almost three hours before Wilfred was down and out. And Salome, although hot and sweaty, looked as though she had swallowed the canary. (And why not--she had swallowed almost everything else.) Meow.

That night in my bed Salome watches from beside us while Wilfred pleasures me with his tongue, and then the regular way. His tongue feels nice--very nice--but I like it better when he is inside me.

Saturday Salome and I take turns with Wilfred. She teaches me how to fellate him. Kissing it is unexpectedly pleasant, the warm softness of his skin sensuous against my lips. Hesitantly I open my mouth. He pees with this. And I'm surprised at its neutral taste and tantalizing texture. The intimacy of him in my mouth is almost as good as having him in my puss.

She goes through her repertoire of sex positions and I mimic each one of them. I'm starting to feel like a sex pro. My favorite position is sitting on top of him while his hands play with my boobs.

Wilfred lasts until mid-afternoon, but he and I do it again that night in my bed. I wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of Salome enjoying Wilfred beside me. I pretend to be asleep.

Sunday Wilfred heads back home.

The next morning (and every morning that week) he comes early and slips naked into bed with us. Once it gets too warm upstairs we move our activities downstairs. I'd expected Salome to grow tired of Wilfred, but if anything, her affection for him continues to grow. When she kisses him goodbye late Friday afternoon, I could almost swear she's close to tears.

For the middle two weeks in August I had Wilfred all to myself. Curiously, we spent much more time just lying together and touching than actually having sex. He went off to university in the big city, and I stayed home and went to community college to become a paralegal.

Salome and Wilfred got married the following summer. But they made it clear that I had an open invitation to visit anytime. "If you come early in the morning," Salome told me, "just come on up to our bedroom and..."

But, as I said earlier, that's another story.