Pam is filmed in preparation for her first menage.
He is wired, ready to bolt. "N-no. I'm totally fucked up! I mean, I'm nervous as hell, never done anything like this before; shit, I've only fucked a girl twice."
Well, that certainly reduces the chances of STD.
"Let me give you a few ground rules, Nuke, should you choose to participate in her experiment. First, lose the gutter talk. Swan is rather free with the words 'cunt' and 'cock', but otherwise, she's a young lady. Second, always remember that she is in charge; 'no' means no, and 'let's try...' is a command. You and I are there to assist her on this journey. Keep that in mind, young man, and you will also embark on voyages you have never dreamed of." I placed a card in front of him. "Here's the address. Eight o'clock, tomorrow night." I slipped the script into my leather folder, dropped a few bills on the table, and left him with his confusion.
------------------------------------------------- Me again. Marcel sits at the kitchen table, reading that script. I am trying to study for next week's history exam. It's nearly eight thirty. I guess he chickened out. I jump at the sound of the doorbell.
"I got lost," he says. "Sorry."
I stand on tiptoe, kiss his cheek. "It's O.K. Come on in. Would you like a glass of wine?"
"Sure. Good evening, Sir."
"My name's Marcel, not Sir, Nuke," my lover says with a smile. "Are you as worried as Swan is, about this history exam?"
"Yeah, sorta. I can't keep all those kings and emperors straight."
"Plus," I chime in,"The countries keep changing their names!"
We sit and gab about school; Marcel ignores us. I refill Nuke's glass, take his hand. "Come on, I want to show you something." I lead him into the bedroom, close the door. He takes in his surroundings, the big four poster bed, the many mirrors.
He gives me a puzzled look. "What? This what you want to show me?"
"No, Nuke. I want to show you ME. Take off my clothes."
My blouse has many, many tiny buttons. He fumbles at first, picks up speed at the halfway point. A quick study. Good. Has less trouble with my bra. But then, of course, I am not wearing one.
A quick zip and my skirt pools around my feet. I kick off my flats. He hooks my panties with his thumbs, slowly, slowly peels them off. He stands back and feasts on me; his eyes devour my proud, shaved sex, all its folds and convolutions laid bare before his gaze.
"My turn," I finally say, and get to work. In less time than it takes to write 'I strip him', I strip him. I gasp. He is completely hairless.
He blushes. "Weird, huh? I was on the swim team, in prep school; body hair can add a half second to a hundred meters. Most of us shaved. I got used to the feeling; even though we don't have a swim team here, I still do it. Does it bother you?"
"BOTHER me? It's an incredible turn on!" I flash on Michelangelo's statue of David as I run my hands down his chest, down, down. His brown sack is large, his testicles hang below a disappointingly small penis.
"Uh, Swan, I don't know if your, if Marcel told you, but I've only done it twice. I'm kind of nervous."
"Hey, you think I'm not! Come on, let's climb on the bed, and I'll tell you a story." We did and I did.
"Back in high school, I was dating this guy, pretty steady. One Saturday he'd scored a six pack and his old man's car. We were in the back seat, making out.Two beers, and I had a buzz on. He had one hand under my sweater, the other up my skirt.
Next thing I know, he's got a raging boner in one hand, and my panties in the other. Without preamble, he sticks it in me. Three thrusts; he comes and I bleed. It was two years before I attempted sex again." I lean over and give Nuke a brief kiss. "Your turn," I say.
"My first time was about as bad.