I'll Show You Mine, If.....

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And yet another step.

“Before we get dressed and go, Steve, we need to make rings for our fingers, and a bigger ring for this.” She caressed his penis and his balls. They had become special to her.

They felt strange to him too, after that baptism within her body, always wanting to go back into her there.

He laughed and cautioned her.

“It will slide off me when I shrink. I’ll lose it.” He was shrinking already under the onslaught of what she’d done to him, now that he’d withdrawn from her. Her body had kept him alive.

He already knew some of what his body wanted to do to her, each time he was with her. He liked to become erect, especially with her helping him, and he wanted to go back into her again, even now. He might be able to come now.

“No, it won’t slip off. I’ll take several turns, even under your balls, and I can tie it loosely on top of him, your cock.” The words came easier now.

She explained how she would lift his balls and put a loose ‘ring’ of twine under them, up and over his penis, near his body and tie it there. She could take a few loose turns; three or four.

“You won’t lose it then.”


He liked her to touch him and do that thing for him, touching him. He even helped her, holding his balls out of the way as she looped some twine loosely under them, around the top, four turns, before cutting it with a small pen knife she produced from her shorts.

It was taking a lot of twine. “That’s not too tight is it?”

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her.

She cut it, then unwound it slowly from him, getting an idea of how much it had taken… about three feet of twine! Holy…!

She looped it back again as before, then tied it securely over the top, with a reef knot.

Her doing that so tenderly, paying him attention again, handling him like that, excited him more than he’d ever been excited before. It excited her too, and not the least because he was touching into her with his fingers again, and leaning in, to kiss her.

He was becoming rigidly erect again, but she shouldn’t demand too much of him this first time. It had taken them more than two weeks to get to this stage.

“No one will see it or will know what they mean, except for us. If we meet anywhere, we can just hold up our fingers to show that we have our rings on (when she’d made them), although you won’t be able to show me this one, except when we are here, but you can point to it discreetly.”

She had a delightful sense of humor about some very personal things.

She inched forward, encouraging him to go into her once more as she sat over his legs, controlling it going into her, distending her, opening her up even as she watched in partial disbelief; three, then four inches into her, with her watching in amazement how it was not murdering her (she was distracting herself) as she made rings for their fingers from the same twine. He held her steady upon him, not letting her fall back, wanting to be into her again. He was becoming fully hard again.

She did the same around each of their ring fingers as they faced each other, looking into each other’s eyes. She knew what she saw. He was just as in love with her, as she was with him. They would talk about that soon, too.

Everything they had just done and were doing, had been needed, and had been right. She inched steadily closer to him feeling him going deeper into her already stretched vagina. There could be no going back now.

Third finger, left hand, where a marriage band would be; taking several turns, but not too tight, then tying them firmly as before. They were loose, until he suggested threading the loose ends, several times around each ring, to make them snug. It would be easily reversed if needed. Her ring wasn’t that obvious, so she could keep it on, and so could he.

If anyone asked, she could say it was just a symbol, like a bracelet, and it was a lot safer than a tattoo, which she would never have got anyway.

She persuaded herself that they were now married, so they could be even more adventurous with each other.

After that, they kissed and spoke of love, and of loving each other for ever, and never forgetting this place. They could write to each other too, even while they were at different schools in the same town, with little chance of them meeting so often as now, though they might be able to see each other on a weekend.

Writing to each other, would hold them together, and give them chance to set up such an assignation through a code that they could set up, and unintelligible to anyone but them.

“Can you stay out, one night, Steve, and camp up here with me. Say, tomorrow night or the one after, before I have to go back to school and before the cold weather stops us?”

He hoped he knew what she meant and what would happen between them.It was already happening again.

He nodded. He knew what she was asking and why.

“I think so. I’ll bring a larger lunch.”

So would she, and some grain for the horse. It wouldn’t rain tomorrow night. At least rain wasn’t in the forecast, but it would be cool.

They could have a bigger fire, and cuddle naked together under her horse blanket to stay warm. They’d had rain overnight for the last three days, so the forest fire danger was very low.

She would suggest to her mother that she would be going up to the ten-mile cabin and would be staying there overnight. She’d done it before. Her mother wouldn’t balk too much at that, as long as she took a cellphone with her and checked in, but she wouldn’t tell her about being at this place instead or that she would be with Steve.

“You can come over me again and go farther into me now, Steve.”

He pushed her back without leaving her body and rose over her again, going deeply into her so easily this time. That ring around his genitals didn’t interfere in any way with what they were doing. It seemed to enervate him.

She rejoiced.

He got fully into her this time, going very slowly.

He relaxed upon her then with difficulty, asking how she felt? Was he hurting too much? Then he lost all power of speech.

She reassured him, encouraging him to move slowly back and forth in her, getting used to what was happening as she focused upon relaxing. He was still very big for her, and was stretching her to an extreme down there and even inside, too, but she would soon get used to this. Her body would adjust.

After only a minute or two, as they both detected changes in him, and in his focus and his breathing as he progressed, he spoke again in a strangled kind of voice.

“Somethings happening. I think I’m coming now!”

He caught them both by surprise as he gasped and cried out, pushing slowly and hard into her, retaining as much control as he could, so as not to hurt her, waiting for the pain again, but it didn’t happen. He froze, holding his breath and then letting it out, in gasps. It was as though he was in rigor mortis, but there was nothing ‘death like’ about this… it was all about life and how new life began, but hopefully, not this time in her body.

She felt that. She rejoiced. This would happen often, between them now.

He’d managed to come again. His balls were really aching now, but it was a worthwhile kind of ache.

She’d be late getting home, but she didn’t care.

After he came out of her, with her amazed at how much had been in her, she’d pee again and they would get back into the water to wash themselves again, and then they would help each other dress; doing it all slowly.

She’d bring something for their lips, tomorrow too. She had a small tube of Vaseline.

She should have thought of it before now.

Her mother had said something, asking if she was coming down with a cold, and did she have a cold sore developing, as her lips looked a bit puffy?

They would be even more puffy now... as would another abused part of her body after that. Fortunately, her mother had no clue that she was with a boy for that. At least she hoped so, considering the steadily accumulating evidence: her daughter’s rush to leave the house each day, coming back late, with her hair and her clothes untidy, and with sand in her clothing and in her riding boots. Her sore, and difficult-to-close, vagina. It might never close properly after having Steve in her.

She also sang quietly to herself around the house, as though unusually happy about something.

Her bruised lips had been from their kissing, which had become steadily more focused, and which always led in some interesting ways now.

They’d better be more careful.

Tomorrow, it would be even more intense and interesting for them both, as well as easier.

It had to be.

The weather would soon change, closing off this avenue for them at the lake, and she would be back at school in another few days, so they had to keep moving this forward in some other way.

They would sleep on the beach together, and they would make love as many times as he could manage, and she’d better not get pregnant.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

From her mother, talking about other girls who’d got caught that way after letting a boy…fuck them. But she’d never used any of those awkward words. She didn’t have to… Babs knew.

The lesson had got through. Now, she was one of those compromised girls, being fucked, rejoicing in it, but without the pregnancy, she hoped.

These moments would be repeated every spring and summer and every holiday, as well as a few times in between, when they could meet somewhere isolated.

She might even be able to meet him when he and his father worked on the house, and the two of them could slink off together somewhere out of sight for a few minutes, even into her bedroom.

The barn was always safer, and it was private, up in the top of it, out of sight, behind the bales of hay.

However, at this time of year, the weather would soon put an end to this little adventure, slowing it down, if school didn’t.

Snow came early at this altitude.

They’d find some way around those difficulties. They would have to do something.

On her ride home after that wonderful initiation, she’d almost fallen off the horse more than once. She was distracted by her exceptional sensitivity down there after his intimately eye-opening visit into her. The frottage, rubbing, of her saddle and clothing against her vulva and clitoris, which seemed to be swollen, did strange things to her. She had to stop, often, rising in the stirrups to change her position and to pull her clothing away from her to ease that tenderness between her legs, having to get off and walk a couple of times, as she recovered. She'd never felt like this before.

The memory of Steve touching into her with his fingers and with his immense penis, pushing into her, was doing strange things to her. She felt breathless, her heart beating fast. It took only a few adjustments to loosen her clothing and to push her hand down inside of her clothes as she leaned up against her horse, and moved her fingers along herself. She partially squatted and pushed her fingers deep into her open vagina. This feeling was strange to her, but she didn't stop. Two fingers felt just right. Her mind was focused upon just one place, as she gave in to these new sensations that she'd been introduced to. Had she been able to, she would have ridden back and called Steve to help her in the one way she needed at this moment and that he needed, too.

She so wanted to feel all of him going into her again. God, she was wet, and open, and it felt good, exciting... and she had never felt so wet. And then... and then... she was overwhelmed by wave after wave of throbbing heat, of breathless excitement as she cried out, alternately tightening up and relaxing on her fingers, almost falling over. She leaned up against her horse gripping the girth to stop herself falling, and let it continue, pushing deeper and harder into herself to keep it going.

When she came around a few moments later, she felt how wet she was... how wet her clothing was, not sure she would dare walk into the house, feeling as she did and with her clothing wet, and smelling strongly of her in this way. She had reached an orgasm, wishing Steve had been in her for that, but he had started this for her, and it would only get better.

She should go back to the lake and wash out her panties at least, to get the smell off them. Her other clothing should go straight into the wash when she got home, and she should bathe, before her mother saw, or said anything.

She didn’t feel too sore, but her vagina was definitely tender and very sensitive after what had happened to it. The merest touch into her vagina could send her off again, and would. She would find out more in her bath.

She hoped her mother wouldn’t notice anything. Always that thought.

She’d inspect her panties again when she got home anyway, and wash them out again. She’d have a bath or a shower too, and find out what had changed about her vagina... maybe even discover if it could happen again.

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