In response to the vision of his girlfriend Delphia’s impending late night visit, Jules Kittridge’s penis ballooned into a steely arc. If he touched himself now he would bust a nut and, in so doing, waste the better part of their first embrace in his fist. Jules much preferred the luxuriant clasp of Delphia’s thrusting vagina and the exhilarating shriek of their youthful conjoinment. It had taken him a while to gain the necessary dick control to satisfy her cravings. Jules' religion forbade extramarital sex. Having finally bought in to the concept of fornication, however, Jules was an eager participant.

Next door, young Delphia bade her parents goodnight and crawled into bed. Dressed in a set of flannel pajamas, Delphia looked the part of the naive, virginal teenager off to dream dreams of sugarplums and Disney fairy princesses, though she was long past such childish fantasy. The young black girl had no intention of falling asleep. Delphia’s intentions were far more prurient. She knew her parents would stay up watching TV before heading off to bed themselves. She wanted them to be confident in the security of their home and hearth. Delphia’s brothers would drift off in their own time. By three a.m. their whole home would be wrapped in the embrace of Morpheus.

Like Jules, Delphia was an eighteen-year-old high school senior. She wore her soft, black hair parted down the middle into two thick braids. She tied these off into a larger French braid resting between her shoulder blades. Her breasts were ripe with the fullness of youth, bouncing jauntily beneath her button down pajama top. Her pajama bottoms snapped tightly about her supple waist to encumber her widening behind. One could not see the taut muscles underlying her belly, but these were obvious. Delphia moved with the grace and assurance of a jungle cat.

Now, as she lay back into bed, she struggled out of her pajama bottoms and, using a flashlight, took a Bic razor and some soap to the lush curls crisscrossing her nubile pubic mound. She needed to be freshly bald down there, believing it would fire Jules' attention. Carefully, she scraped her vulva clean, taking special note of her most sensitive areas. She pried her labia majora open to ensure that no hidden patches of ebon thatch escaped her purview. A small, limber woman, Delphia was fully capable of doubling over to inspect her work, indeed, she was even capable of giving her throbbing clit the odd lick. She employed that talent tonite. The scent of her freshly shaven cunt assailed her nostrils.

“He gonna lick me tonite,” she observed with a note of finality. (Jules enjoyed fellatio but was so far unwilling to reciprocate.) “He's gonna lick it or I'm gonna know the reason why."

Taking this cue, Delphia tongued her clit diffidently until she reached the threshold of her deepest arousal. With the familiar electrical shock came the realization that she might be able to nut before heading next door. She took a look at the clock radio beside her bed. Jules would be expecting her in another two hours. Unlike he, Delphia could nut repeatedly without having to rest between sessions.

The young girl relaxed a bit. Doubled over like this, knees pressed against her ears, she couldn’t really enjoy the orgasmic wave that had consumed her youth since she first discovered her libidinous instincts. Delphia closed her eyes to re-imagine her most recent sexual experience. Using her middle finger, she twiddled her clitoris alive from its perch at the apex of her slit. She was already wet. Her clit blossomed upward like a small marble. She stroked it opulently between her index finger and middle fingers as it swelled. Her arousal grew. Delphia struggled to quell groans of ecstasy. When the moment came she inserted both fingers and drifted aloft with a silent crash and a sigh. Her legs straightened. Her hips churned. Her entire body racked with spasms. Bright lights flickered wildly in her dome. After several more lingering pelvic thrusts (each more viciously strident than the one prior) Delphia passed out. She slept. Only the glowing flashlight under her blanket bore testimony to Delphia’s masturbatory fecundity.

Delphia and Jules had been neighbors since grade school. They'd been at odds for much of that time. He threw dirtbombs at her; she teased him about the size of his head and the fact that he had a girl’s name. Jules also came from a family of Jehovah's Witnesses. He wouldn't stand for the Pledge of Allegiance in school. On Saturdays he could be found knocking doors with colorful pamphlets in hand and a pre-rehearsed Bible schpiel. Young Delphia was not above mocking him for these “aberrations” from the norm.

With the onset of puberty this dynamic began to change. The teasing became less personal, more friendly. Childhood enemies often make the best of friendships.

Their homes were cookie cutter versions of suburbia—split level—with an upstairs, a mid-point kitchen/dining room/living room section and a spacious family room downstairs, complete with a fireplace—four bedrooms, three baths. The downstairs in both homes also contained a guest bedroom and a utility room for the washer and the dryer. Jules slept in the downstairs bedroom in his home, well away from the other members of his family.

The utility room in both homes had a backdoor and a set of stairs leading up to ground level. This portal was used by the teens to travel between homes. It was easy enough to open the doors from the inside and step out undetected. Delphia could leave her door unlatched and return in the same manner. Her problem would be mounting the steps back upstairs to her room. She could always claim she’d been in the kitchen.

Now fast asleep, Delphia dreamt of her first sexual encounter with Jules just a few weeks back. It had been Jules’ first ever visit to a woman’s southern split. Delphia, by way of contrast, had any number of such encounters under her belt.

In their case, they’d been playing “Whirlpool” in a neighbor’s above ground, circular pool. The game entailed a group of kids moving in unison around the perimeter of the pool such that a current is created—a whirlpool. The current eventually wafts the whole group along, kind of like a Lazy River. Jules trailed Delphia in the group. Reaching back for him under the water, Delphia repeatedly and disingenuously gripped his crotch through his swimming trunks. None of the other kids noticed. Jules certainly did. He jerked away from Delphia’s first few forays, embarrassed at her attentions, thinking that she was gripping his cock accidentally. She was not.

Finally the moment came when Delphia gripped his erect penis in her palm and did not let go. Jules allowed himself to be surreptitiously dragged along the whirlpool route by his cock. His eyes crisscrossed. He drew breath in great bolts. As a Christian, for Jules even masturbation was a sin. The other teenagers giggled and laughed as the current swirled them about, not noticing Delphia’s grip. Jules swept along in a fog of pubescent lust.

And when Delphia drew him closer and pointed his erect penis into the split in her bikini bottoms, Jules was on the verge of catastrophe. His baggy shorts served to partially disguise his boner, though one could see his immense erection beneath the sparkling pool waters if one had seen fit to look for it.

She positioned him carefully behind her so as not to attract attention. No one would have suspected them to be so bold in such a public setting. But here they were, in a crowd of other chattering teens, mashing their pelvises together.

Jules pressed a full inch of his cockhead into Delphia’s wettened crack before he came. She felt him surge, sway and soften. There’d been no skin-to-skin contact. Jules only succeeded in pressing fabric from their bathing suits into her slit, although he had felt her pussy lips widen before snapping tightly about the helm of his cock. This, more than anything, triggered his ejaculate. This, and the fact that he’d never been this close to heaven before.

For her part, Delphia was amazed at his girth. Having accidentally witnessed his dangling cock some months back as he changed shorts at a basketball game, Delphia’s view of her long-time neighbor abruptly changed. No more of this “pseudo-sibling” stuff. She’d titillated and teased him since that time to just this end. Now he’d parted her labia and left his seed adrift in chlorinated pool water and the fabric of her bikini bottoms. She didn’t intend to have the next step take so long. She’d glanced over her shoulder at him that day.

“I can give you the real thing, if you want,” she whispered, adding this tempting offer to the sexual maelstrom swirling in his head.

That evening Jules attended Kingdom Hall with his family. They returned home and were asleep by 11 p.m. Three hours later Jules was standing outside Delphia’s second story window, tossing pebbles to awaken her. She popped up immediately.

“TEXT me!!” she mouthed silently, pointing to her phone.

Ten minutes later she’d scampered up the backstairs, barefoot, and rushed into his arms. He guided her to a dark spot in his backyard behind his garage. They kissed passionately before Jules snatched her about, yanked her pajama bottoms down and bent her over into the same position she’d been in the pool, except now her hind parts were exposed. Frantically, he’d shoved his cock past her crop of curly pubic hair and into her pussy proper. No bikini bottoms blocked his access to her goodies this time. Jules fumbled about, found and penetrated her sex opening with a penis made of granite. Ten seconds later he’d spasmed, splurted and slumped—like a newbie. Delphia felt the crawly flood of his semen trickling down her thighs with a measure of gratitude.

It was about time.

Jules held Delphia in place as he’d emptied himself. His balls expanded and contracted, balloon-like, as he pumped jism into her vagina. When he finally extricated himself, a huge gout of semen plooped from her behind and splashed earthward, soiling her pajama bottoms. Delphia was horrified. Her mother was sure to notice. Only now did she seem to realize her peril. Delphia gathered herself and ran home, pausing in the downstairs bathroom to scrub her pajama bottoms with hot water. She also took a hot washcloth to her vagina. Rawdog sex has a noticeable odor.

Delphia packaged her pajama bottoms away, afraid to hang them up or put them in the dryer. She planned to wash her things after her parents left for work in the morning.

The young girl was not unhappy. Even though her intended had left her bereft, they’d finally done the deed ten years in the making. Jules would gain stamina with time, she knew. Ten seconds? She chuckled to herself. She hadn’t believed he could go that long on the first try.

As she was replaying the event in her mind, her cell phone lit up. It was him.

“Come back down!!” he texted.

She popped her head into her window. He was still down there, in the cut, a shadow among the shadows, his face lit up by the phosphorescent glow of his smart phone.

Thrilled at his boldness, Delphia slipped from her bed and ran to him again, sneaking out through the utility room doorway. This time she wore no panties. She found him with a huge, unrequited boner, one of the perks of the newly initiated. Brashly, she’d lifted her leg and reached down to guide his cock into her pussy, fucking face to face as they kissed, dragging her hirsute vulva up and down the length of his shaft with the fury of her passion. When she felt him begin to tremble and quake she was nowhere near completion. She hopped off his dick, knelt, and took his penis into her throat. It was his first blowjob.

It was time to move him along into newer things.

Jules was, again, transfixed. He’d never seen a porn movie, indeed, had no clue about the joys of fellatio save for the locker room rumors he'd overheard. As might be expected, it was not a subject fit for a Christian home. Jules knew from this first experience that this new thing was sure to free him from worry over the prospect of pregnancy.

Jules stood before the kneeling girl, emptying his batch into her gullet. This time there was no spillage. He’d held the top of her head and her underjaw in place as he pumped a load of jizz down her throat. Delphia who, unlike Jules, had seen a number porn movies in her time, slurped up every drop of his semen. Jules staggered backward, arms flailing, almost blinded by the force of his delivery. Delphia was pleased. She suckled his cock tenderly until it softened in her mouth. When he finished erupting she eased back from his dick. She tucked it away for him. He slumped.

Now standing over him, she pushed him to his knees and offered her protruding clitoris to his tongue as if it were a cock. Shocked, Jules scrambled backwards. Delphia seemed to anticipate this. Maybe cunnilingus was a bit too much for the first night.

She stood him aloft and kissed him deeply. Then she turned, scampered home and crawled into bed. She felt sticky and hot “down there”, but was nowhere near sated. Instead, she reached southward and began to finger herself opulently. She needed a top off.

She’d been masturbating languidly for fifteen minutes when her cell phone lit up. Delphia knew it was Jules before picking up the phone. Ten minutes later her cunt was again filled with dick. This time Jules lasted a full two minutes before succumbing to yet another crippling climax. He’d wanted to enjoy Delphia’s fellatio once more before the night waned, but his cock had other ideas. Enveloped in the rapturous joy of her pussy, Jules couldn’t bring himself to pull out. He erupted just as Delphia was entering the tremble phase of her womanly orgasm. She had not snapped tourniquet tight about his thickness, but she was getting there.

Delphia scampered home again, through the wet grass, dripping with semen. This time she finished her top off using her middle and ring fingers, imagining these to be Jules' penis. Afterward, the odor of their sex lingered on her fingertips. Delphia smiled lazily.

“That was good!!” she mused.

All in all, that first encounter had been the most sensational sexual experience of both their young lives. Delphia harkened back to that evening now even as she prepared for another such tryst. They’d graduated from fucking in the wet backyard grass to cowgirl in the Kittridge family minivan to late night meetups in Jules’ downstairs bedroom. Jules' parents slept directly upstairs.

Things were moving along nicely.

Jules, however, existed in a torment of indecision. He was a fornicator!! Save for the term ‘apostate', there is no more pejorative term in the Jehovah’s Witness lexicon. If anyone in his church caught wind of his extra-curricular sexual activities, he would be ex-communicated so fast! Even his family would shun him. No days passed in which Jules did not make a concrete determination to curtail his secretive sex life with Delphia. He planned to stop fornicating cold turkey and repent quietly without drawing attention to himself.

These concrete resolutions usually lasted until the sun went down that day.

Then Delphia's pussy, like some mind altering drug, rose up to encumber him. The two of them met in all manner of locations, taking risk after risk to sate their monstrous teen sexual appetites. They even managed to have sex in their neighbor's above ground pool at mid-day, in the midst of all their friends, without getting caught. Jules learned to push Delphia’s bikini bottoms to the side.

Of late Delphia had been more and more insistent upon her desire for tongue. She liked having her pussy sucked. Jules liked getting sucked, too. He just could not bring himself to return the favor. Nor was he inclined to kiss her after ejaculating in her mouth. Try as she might, Delphia could not get him past these mystical barriers. Too, he seemed put off by her pubescent bush, almost fearful of tasting the full measure of her sexual goods. At least that’s how Delphia viewed his reticence.

“What’s wrong with my pussy?" she mused. "It's good enough for a dick, ain't it? Besides, I’d like to see HIM swallow a bucket fulla cum. I betchu if I stop sucking his dick he’ll figure it out soon enough."

It was Thursday. Jules and his family spent the better part of the evening at Kingdom Hall where Jules gave a fifth student talk. This was a particular honor for one so young. Jules was a highly respected brother in his church. He was seen as an "up and comer", soon to be on the Ministerial Servant track and then, hopefully, an elder.

Jules stumbled up to the podium, Bible in hand. Knowing of his secret sin, he was fearful that at any moment a bolt of lightning might strike him down. He was a fornicator desecrating the House of the Lord!!! His conscience raged against him.

Jules parroted a five-minute speech from one of the Watchtower Society’s publications before returning to his seat. He spent the rest of the meeting daydreaming about Delphia, pressing his Bible into his lap to hide the erection burgeoning there. His mother wondered after him. He’d been acting strangely of late.

Returning home, Jules crawled into bed that night and began the countdown to ecstasy. His penis had been uncomfortably hard, more or less, since his ruminations during the Kingdom Hall Service Meeting. It had been almost four days since he’d last been with his beloved. Teenaged madness was fully upon him. The two-hour wait before Delphia’s visit seemed an age. When he finally drifted off, visions of their first encounter danced in his brain. He recalled his early pre-mature capitulation that evening. Jules smiled to himself.

“I’ve got a lot more stamina than that now.”

Jules was just getting to the best part of his incessant “sex with Delphia” wet dreams. She was naked atop him, riding his penis like a diminutive Kentucky Derby jockey. Black nipples fully erect, her luscious tits swung back and forth before him in conjunction with the opulent rotations of her ass. She climaxed repeatedly under the rhythmic concussions of his violent thrusting. Each time he sensed the onset of her shiver he blasted her pussy with further shrieking jets of semen. Jules never seemed to run short of this psychotropic effluent.

Jules reveled in this vision. Their exhilarating sex life was the only thing oppressing his Christian conscience. He was willing to risk his whole life, his friends and his family for the chance to penetrate any of Delphia’s snapping orifices.

A tap on his window brought him about. It was Delphia. She’d been waiting at the door to the utility room. Jules bolted from his bed to let her in.

Not willing to wait for the seven-foot walk to Jules’ bedroom, they rushed in each other’s arms, kissing passionately as they fumbled at each other’s genitalia. Neither of them wore underwear. Jules was spectacularly erect. He was astounded to find Delphia’s vulva devoid of pubic hair, bald as an egg, slit dripping with yolk. He drew back to gaze admiration into her eyes. Delphia feigned embarrassment. She looked away demurely, even as she drew his penis up between her legs and into her wetness, where she lubricated his cockhead with pussy lather. Once centered, she gave a little hop. She felt his cockhead nuzzle her pussy open. Jules gave a firm thrust. Delphia’s pussy opened widely before closing about his thickness. In seconds she could feel his smoothly rounded pudenda nudging up against the very back of her pussy.

Delphia wrapped her calves about his buttocks. Clumsily, Jules fuckwalked her to his bedroom, still roasting in the heady ether of her slippery vagina. Even as he lay her down, his ejaculate was upon him. They'd been apart too long.

Delphia knew that if he came now she had no chance of getting the tonguing she so fervently desired. She felt him surging inside her, straining to empty himself. In another few thrusts he would splatter her vagina with seed. His cockbase was crashed against her clit. As much as she desired this outcome, she knew that Jules would slump soon.

She rolled him over with a single push and withdrew suddenly so that his first splurt found nothing but ceiling. Then she gobbled his cock into her mouth and slurped the remainder of his issue. Jules’ eyes rolled in his head. He fucked Delphia's mouth as if it were the pussy he’d so recently quitted, driving his pud deeply into her esophagus. His balls flapped against her chin. Foamy spittle merged with his semen to bubble obscenely from the corners of her lips. Delphia’s moans of delight fired his loins. She fingered herself wildly. She, too, was at the precipice of a mind-blowing seizure.

“Jules!! I need you so suck me!! SUCK MY PUSSY, JULES! OH!!!”

She scrambled up his torso to straddle his face, offering her dripping pussy to his nostrils. Jules drew back. Her pussy was this close, its scent a natural aphrodisiac. For the first time Jules was tantalized by the piquant aroma of a seething pussy. Her slit was before him, peach-like, shorn of pubic hair, gloriously advertising Delphia’s nubile sexuality. Her fully blooded caramel labia throbbed with desire, clit bulging upward like an infantile penis. She queefed. Jules almost fainted. His dick pronged upward.

Tepidly, he offered up his tongue.

A half hour later he'd sucked Delphia through six amazing orgasms. She’d shown him in no uncertain terms the value of a good pussy suck. She’d even encouraged him to stick his penis in periodically to keep it wet and hard. She showed him when to fuck and when to suck.

“Sofly, with flickering tongue tip,” she’d said.

Jules' reticence about tasting hole was a thing of the past. They luxuriated in the joy of oral, finishing the night with a sixty-nine and introducing both their noses to taint.

And that was how Delphia finally got her pussy sucked.