Boy Meets Girl

Jenny sat up, scooted back toward Dave, and sat close to him, still bare breasted. She placed a hand on his inner thigh, a soft touch that would certainly have aroused him if he hadn't just had the orgasm of his life. In the dim light of the fading day, he could see her hair was mussed and her makeup slightly smeared; her eyes had a dreamy look. Had she climaxed? he wondered.

She kissed him, and he felt his semen, slick and gummy, on her lips. He kissed her back, and she opened her mouth (her vagina, he thought) to him. Their tongues met, entwined, and he felt, rather than tasted, the thickness of her saliva which had mixed with his semen. Despite her having swallowed his load, a remnant of his seed remained inside her mouth. The thought that, in French kissing Jenny, he was sampling his own semen, excited him. It was odd, he thought, how sharing his own sperm aroused him, whereas the thought of having another man's semen on his tongue would disgust him. It was odd, too, that any man found pleasure in masturbating himself while many would find masturbating another man to be nothing but disgusting, despite the fact that a cock was a cock and balls were balls, just as semen was semen. There was no accounting for human nature, he guessed.

As he kissed Jenny, Dave again wondered whether she was as aroused as he had been and as he was becoming again. She certainly seemed to be, but girls could pretend well. Her nipples were erect, but the coolness of the gathering night could account for their erection. There was one sure way to find out. He could check to see whether she was moist "down there." If her labia were wet, her cunt obviously would be as well, and if her pussy was lubricated, she obviously would be aroused, physically, if not emotionally, and ready for intercourse. Suddenly, it seemed necessary for him to know, one way or the other, whether Jenny was aroused; he had to know.

Twice, he'd reached for her pussy, and twice he'd been wordlessly rebuffed. This time, he didn't intend to give her the opportunity to deny his questing hand. Instead of trailing his palm up her smooth thigh, he reached directly inside her mini skirt, felt the silk panties, and jerked his hand away, recoiling from her. "What the hell?" he cried.