Summary: A talented young man loses his virginity and finds love.
Keywords: MF, consensual, oral, pregnancy, SF
Version: 1.00
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STANDARD DISCLAIMER
The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment.
It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached.
Copyright (C) 2011 Jack Wellard. All rights reserved.
Steve
Chapter One - Alice
It is 1990 and a twenty-year old man is getting ready for work.
Just another average cloudy Tuesday; it seemed like an ordinary day. There were no thunderbolts, no booming voices from the skies, but this became a day like no other.
I turned off the light and left the bathroom running my hand across my freshly shaved face. "Smooooth, man" I murmured inwardly, thinking sultry jazz thoughts. My skin still tingled from the cold water I had splashed over my face to finish the morning's ablutions. Back in my room I looked for my after-shave cream, then I remembered that the last tube was completely squeezed out yesterday. No problem, I thought I should be able to get some on the way home from the office.
Breakfast done I put the cereal bowl in the sink and ran some cold water into it, I would include that with this evening's washing up. I slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder, adjusted it across my chest and left my house pulling on my cycle helmet. As always, I checked the tyre pressures with a quick press of my thumb and wheeled the bike to the roadside.
On such a grey day there was no sun to dazzle me or the crazy drivers who didn't seem notice cyclists even in perfect light! The previous day's wind had dropped and riding was easy. Wriggling through the stationary traffic on the High Street I made faster progress than the cars with their fogged up windows and loud music. Waiting at the second traffic lights I saw an old lady opening her shop β set back on the wide pavement. I hadn't previously noticed this shop, I guess I was usually too keen to beat the cars away from the lights. Today the lights seem to stay red forever.
As the old lady positioned an advertising board on the pavement to attract customers, two youths slipped into her shop while her back was turned. As she went back into the shop I heard a scream. I was never the hero but on this morning some sort of instinct took over. Lifting the front wheel of the bike up the kerb I pedalled hard towards the door. One of the youths, his hoody still tight around his head rushed out clutching a handbag. Without thinking I rode straight at him. His legs tangled as he tried to avoid this yellow clad silent missile. As he hesitated I slewed the bike hard into his legs, he crashed against the shop front and fell. The other youth ran out of the door, in his hand was a wad of money. I could hear the old lady's shouts as my bike continued its arc and took the legs of the other thief from under him.
Almost as though in slow motion I saw the hand holding the notes swinging upwards as he struggled to regain his balance. My own arm took on a life of its own as my hand stretched out and just lifted the money from his fingers. Still moving at freeze-frame speed my leg stretched to trip the first youth as he resumed his quest for freedom. His arm swung the handbag towards my head. My free hand instinctively moved towards it and managed to tangle into the strap before it thumped the side of my cycle helmet. The robber, now off-balance decided to let go of the bag and escaped in the opposite direction to his comrade-in-arms.
I stepped free of the bike, slipped an arm under the cross-bar to carry it into the shop, one hand full of money, the other still gripping the handbag. The slim old lady was just emerging from below the wooden counter, white-faced and dishevelled but smiling at the sight of her fluorescent hero.
"Are you OK ma'am?" I asked. Silly question but it seemed appropriate.
"I'm fine, young man but how are you?" She replied looking concerned. Despite her recent encounter with the local low life she seemed remarkably perky. As I handed over the cash and her bag she sighed "How very fortunate that you were there to help me."
With an old-fashioned ker-ching she opened the ancient till to replace the cash, stowed her handbag under the counter and moved towards me.
"You need some attention to that wound." She said, pointing to my leg. In the excitement I hadn't actually noticed, but I must have become tangled with the bike and probably got spiked on a brake lever. In the few seconds while I examined the blood-stained rip in my jeans she had gone into the back room and returned with a tiny white glass jar.
"Trousers down and let's try some of this on the damage." She commanded.
Without a thought I unbuckled my belt and pushed down my faded blue jeans. There was blood oozing from a gash on the upper inside of my right thigh. The old lady pushed my legs apart and carefully opened the little jar and touched one finger into the pure white cream. She delicately applied the ointment and the wound appeared to begin healing as though it had never been there. While I was watching this amazing cure my cock slipped out through the slot in my boxer shorts. She grasped it, looking up and smiling.
"That's a sight for sore eyes, young man! A little beauty has come to see me . . mmmmm, nice and warm!"
"Sorry . ." I blustered. "I didn't realise that might happen. 'Little' is rather appropriate though. I often wish it was a bit bigger!"
"Mmmm" She said, gently squeezing my errant penis. "It seems to be growing already!" She smiled as she rubbed some of the cream still on her finger around my cock.
Almost as quickly as she had taken hold of my penis she released her gentle hold and eased it back into my boxer shorts. It still seemed to be growing; I imagined it was just yet another youthful erection. The pleasure of being touched by someone else was a very rare experience for me.