A Graduation Present

The first time I did "it" was after my graduation dance. Normally, I would never have attended such an event, as crowds make me nervous. But on that evening, I decided to make an exception as it would be my last chance to be with friends and classmates.

Then, even before the evening really started, I committed a social faux pas as I arrived far too early. So I waited outside the doors for the graduation committee to finish before grabbing a Dixie cup and a table on the edge of the room.

As everyone else trickled in, I envied the ease with which they talked and mingled before heading for the dance floor.

Around nine-thirty, Pat, Shelley, and Dave came through the door. When they saw me, they started across the floor, and when close enough, Pat yelled above the crowd, "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

I replied, "Well, someone had to hold the table for you".

After that, we gossiped until Pat asked that dreaded question, "Who's your date?"

"I'm here alone," when he teased, until I decided to turn the tables and said, "I don't think this is your kind of party." When he looked confused, I nodded toward Dave, "This isn't a coming-out party, you know."

Dave quickly retorted, "You're a fucking asshole!" and everyone laughed.

As they then headed for the dance floor, I returned to watching the crowd until Dave and Shelley headed for the door. At that point, Pat returned to the table and asked, "We're going out for a smoke. Do you want to come?"

I started to reply, "No, I don't...." and then it dawned on me what he meant. So, I followed him outside and as we rejoined Dave and Shelley, Pat took the joint they'd been sharing, took a drag off it and passed it to me. To tell you the truth, I'd never touched the stuff before, so I didn't know what to do with it. So, I did the first thing that came to mind. I took a giant Cheech and Chong drag, and instantly, it caught in my throat, and I spent the next ten minutes trying to cough up a lung.

As we returned to the table, Pat asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Coke," I replied.

He then grabbed the cup from my hand and turned his back to the crowd. As he emptied his boot flask into it, said, "You'll never get laid drinking that shit. This stuff will put hair on your chest and make your balls drop." Then, I enjoyed the rest of the evening in a pleasant stupor. Well, up until the lights came back up.

As everyone else got up and left, Pat turned to me and asked, "Well, are you coming?" So I followed them to 'The Green Monster'. We'd previously teased Pat that he could pass everything on the road but a gas station. Then, as I propped myself against the door, he walked around to the trunk and returned with several ice-cold beers. As he passed them out, we returned to our earlier conversation until Pat and Shelley began to kiss. Soon, his hand disappeared under the front of her skirt, while hers rubbed the growing bulge in the crotch of his pants. As she pulled him free and began to jerk, they shuffled toward the back door. So I got out of their way and then, as they sat on the backseat, Shelley's head disappeared from view. So I took a step back and watched it bob on the head of his cock. Several minutes later, to my complete and utter surprise, she straddled his lap. After reaching under the hem of her skirt, I presume to pull the crotch of her underwear aside, she aligned the head of his cock, and pressed downwards. As her hips then rose and fell, I was utterly gobsmacked. I mean, they were doing it right in front of me as if I didn't exist. Soon, the urgency of Shelley's movements increased. Then, as the car springs squeaked, she came, or at least I think she did; Pat may have beaten her to the punch.

While this was going on, events outside the car were just as strange. Dave had pulled out his cock and jerked off until he covered it with a cock-safe. Then, as they approached orgasm, he rudely shoved his head in through the window and said, "Fuck that bastard, make him come," and to Pat, "Quit fucking around and spooge, you motherfucker. I want some before the night is out." After that, Pat and Shelley sat next to each other, until Dave stuck his head in through the window and said, "Get out of the car, you motherfucker. It's my turn".

As he stumbled out and collapsed against the base of the light standard, Dave got in. Then he crowed, "Are you ready for some cock now?" as he stepped out of his pants and then, rolled on top of Shelley. After pulling up the hem of her skirt and aligning the head of his cock, he plunged into her. Then, even before he really got started, I knew he wouldn't last. I mean, he was going way too fast and then, as predicted, he groaned, and the show was over.

I thought, "Wow, that's false advertising and a waste of a good rubber."

Then, as Dave stood next to the car, with his bright, Day-Glo pink, semi-flaccid cock hanging in the air, God, it's going to take another 45 years to get rid of that memory. Shelley yelled from inside the car, "Hey, Dickhead, get me a beer. I'm dying of thirst".

So he turned and said, with his shriveled cock hanging in the air, "I can't do it," and then, holding his arms open, as if to say, "Look at me, I'm not dressed to go anywhere." So I turned and walked around to the trunk, and after fishing out two more beers, returned and held them out for Dave. As he took one, and cracked it open, I was confused. I mean, I expected he would take both and pass the second to Shelley. Then, he said, "Nope, you're up, partner. It's time for you to go to bat" and suddenly, I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. While I really, really, really, really wanted to fuck Shelley, I didn't want to do it under these circumstances. To tell you the truth, I was scared shitless at the prospect of being in the car with her. And then there was this whole thing of doing it in public. I was afraid of being ridiculed and/or being caught by the police.

As he pushed me into the car, my mind was racing in a thousand directions. A large part of me wanted to run and hide. Only a very small part actually wanted to see this through. Then, to my complete annoyance, Dave stuck his head in the window and said, "Give him the Special, Shelley," and instantly, I was on high alert. More than once, I'd received one of his 'Specials' and usually felt I was the one getting the shitty end of the stick.

So, when Shelley took that beer from my hand and placed it on the rear deck and then said, "You're a virgin? Right, don't worry, I'll take care of you." I thought this was just another part of his ploy. As she opened the front of my pants and pressed her hand into them, my erection instantly turned into limp pasta. I thought she would be offended and kick me out of the car, but instead, she continued to fondle my noodle until I regained some of my erection. After pulling my pants down to my knees, she then leaned over me and took me into her mouth. As her tongue swirled around the head of my cock, I blew up like a balloon. Then, I thought I would explode, but in that very last instant, she lifted her head and pinched the base of my cock until I calmed. Then, as she resumed, time seemed to stretch into an eternity. I mean, a troop of blue-coated, bagpipe-blowing, pink tutu-wearing elephants could have pirouetted into the parking lot, surrounded the car and played their entire repertoire before marching off, and I wouldn't have noticed. As that orgasm surged up the length of my cock, and then passed through the tip, I spewed like a volcano. I figuratively covered everything in hot, sticky, white goo, but "God, did it ever feel good, like I'd gone to heaven."

Then, as I caught my breath, I thought we were finished. When I entered the car, I had no expectations of anything happening. So when she gave me the combination hand and blow job, I thought that was "The Special". So you can imagine my surprise when Shelley straddled my lap, aligned the head of my cock and pressed downward. As I slid into her, she placed her hands on my shoulders and began to rock her hips, when I lost most of my hard-on. So, I quickly reached into the space between our bodies, circled the base of my cock, and then squeezed as tightly as possible. I thought I could force, when little blood remained in the shaft, into the head of my cock. As her pussy then mashed against my fist, my hard-on started to return.

Then, I noticed a second after-effect. I lost interest in our little charade. To tell you the truth, I felt put upon by Shelley. I mean, here she was riding my cock and working herself toward orgasm, while I was just trying to maintain what little I had. Somewhat related to this was the scent of her perfume. I found it especially overpowering in the tight confines of the car. As these effects diminished, I removed my hand from the shaft of my cock and palmed her soft, white ass. At that point, I noticed a third after-effect. As she rode my cock, I felt a general insensitivity down there.

To tell you the truth, I had been expecting this effect. I'd first discovered this after-effect while jerking off. I found that after my initial orgasm, all subsequent orgasms were inhibited. In other words, after cumming. I could jack off as hard as possible without fear of premature ejaculation, and when I finally did spooge, that sensation was truly out of this world. Several years later, a girlfriend would comment, while watching me jerk off, that she thought I was trying to pull my cock out by the roots. Anyway, as the sensation of her pussy around my cock grew, I lifted my hands off her pudgy ass and fondled her tits through the material of her blouse and bra before throwing these onto our floor. Then as I squeezed her tits and experimentally pinched and rolled her large, erect, gumdrop-sized nipples, she gasped, "Do it harder". So I did, and then she threw her head back, gasped even louder and came with a guttural groan of pleasure..

At that point, I thought I was on the verge of busting a nut, so I asked if we could do it differently. Then, as I stood with one foot in the car and the other on the ground, I searched for the opening to her vagina until she placed the head of my cock in the right spot. As I slid into her, I tried to force that orgasm, to no effect. Shelley, on the other hand, was gasping and grinding back against me like there was no tomorrow.

As she rubbed the tip of her clit with one hand, she hung on to the seat with the other for dear life. Then, as her back arched and she gasped, she began to quiver. After that orgasm, she seemed to surf from one orgasm to the next until after one particularly strong orgasm, when I noticed something I'd missed before. As she approached orgasm, she became very, very wet, and when I looked down I saw under the glow of the street light, the shaft of my cock was glistening with lubrication, and a foam ring had started to form around the base of my cock.

As I slammed against her as hard as I could, I had to slow down to catch my breath when what little progress I made evaporated like water on hot pavement. So, I began again, but instead of going full out, I started slowly and then gradually built the pace until I had to slow again. As I repeated this process over and over again, I started to make headway, so I threw my head back and closed my eyes, only to realize that I'd misjudged the situation. As I slowed and caught my breath, a car pulled into the parking lot and then did a quick U-turn. Maybe they saw what we were doing. Anyway, as I then continued, until I felt a new sense of urgency. As my cock then swelled and began to pulse inside of her, I finally filled her with a bucket load of hot goo. "Boy, did that ever feel good."

As we got back into the car, Shelley cracked open a beer and, as she greedily slurped, I wondered if there were any left. So, I looked out the window, hoping to find Dave or Pat, but neither was visible. So, I loudly wondered, "Where is the peanut gallery?" I mean, we'd been in the car for over an hour, possibly an hour and a half, and our last several orgasms were loud enough to wake the dead. So I dressed and I went out. Then, as I walked around the car and retrieved the last can of beer and a Coke, I saw Dave and Pat slumped against the base of the light standard, half-naked and still wearing their day-glow rubbers. As I returned to Shelley and handed her that beer, I told her what I had seen and asked what she wanted to do about it.

She replied, "Leave the fuckers. They're too heavy to move," before she got back into the front of the car and passed out against the passenger door.

As I drove away, my car filled with the musky scent of sex and sweat. So I went to the local gas station, and after sheepishly asking for the keys, I washed off as best as I could before returning to the car. Then, as I drove, my stomach growled, so I bought a hamburger and fries. Boy, did they ever taste good. I guess, fucking your brains out does that to a person.

Anyway, as I entered our cul-de-sac, I saw the house lights were off. So I coasted the rest of the way home before sneaking in through the downstairs patio door. As I stood naked in the middle of the floor, revelling in the fact that I was now a "Real Man" (haha, what a joke), my hard-on sprang to life, so I jerked off one more time before heading to the shower. Then, as I got into bed and dreamt, I relived that experience several times over before requiring another hand-job.

Later that day, after returning for our graduation ceremonies, I saw Dave and Shelley and asked, "Where's Pat?"

They replied, "He couldn't make it," which I translated as, "He's too drunk", or "He has such a god-damn hangover that he's praying for death".

Then, fishing for a compliment from Shelley, I said, "Boy, that was one great evening. Can we do it again?"

Dave rudely interrupted, "I don't remember a thing," and when I turned to Shelley, she shrugged her shoulders, as if in agreement. At that point, I thought she was covering her ass and didn't want to admit we'd fucked, and I'd left her full of cum.

Several days later, when I confronted Shelley, I blurted out, without any preamble, "I want to fuck you."

She turned away and said over her shoulder, "Go away, little boy. I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last cock on earth. Why don't you take your little boy cock, go fuck a dog!"

I almost replied, "I have, bitch, and I left you full of cum" but I held back, as Dave and Pat were still my friends.

Looking back on it, I could have handled that conversation differently. Instead of doubting her words, I could have taken them as truth and explained what had happened. Maybe I would have had a better chance of getting into her panties. But I'll never know.

Just as a side note, while looking through my yearbook, I found Shelley's note stating she was going out with a bang that year. Well, I guess, in a way, she did, and I have her to thank for taking my virginity.