Marcia 1

I had just turned thirty when this little incident occurred. I live in a block of units and act as caretaker for them. The units are all in good condition and not much is required in taking care of them. Most things I can deal with myself and if I can't then I have a set of preferred tradesmen to summon.

Not having a lot to do around the units I have considerable time to work on my second job, a much more preferred way of passing my time. I am a programmer, and a damned good one. I write apps and games, mostly free-lance but occasionally a specific app upon request. I make good money from those, the games paying the best, and I have a decent investment portfolio. Basically, my time is generally my own.

The tenants in the units are all what you would call middle-class and are generally a decent lot. (Bar old Mr Jackson, who is a grumpy old bastard.) There are a number of kids in the complex ranging from toddlers to a couple of teenagers. They all know me and I get on well with them.

Marcia was one of the teenagers, about eighteen I thought. One morning I received a call from her, asking if I could drop past in my handyman guise. Not having anything urgent to do I wandered up to see what she wanted.

When I reached her unit I knocked and she yelled, "Door's open. Come in." I went in and found that Marcia had apparently just got up, so recently that she wasn't dressed yet, wearing what appeared to be a dressing-gown which was tied by a sash. Now I'm a healthy heterosexual male and I can appreciate a fine figure of the opposite sex. Marcia certainly had one.

That dressing-gown was made of some sort of silky material that clung to her body, showing it in loving detail. I wasn't going to swear that there was anything under that dressing-gown, although I was careful not to notice that.

She gave me a happy smile, pleased to see me. (I say happy smile because I couldn't believe that she was giving me a lascivious one.)

"James," she said with a happy lilt in her voice. "You're a lifesaver. Can you open this for me? I've been trying and I just can't do it and I'm dying for some coffee."

"You may find it easier if you use some material to grasp the lid," I told her, and she laughed.

"Ha! I tried that. Look."

To my surprise she grabbed the hem of her dressing-gown and used that to grip the top and tried to unscrew the top, to no effect. This little effort demonstrated a couple of things. Extremely silky material isn't going to help you get a grip on anything and lifting the hem of a dressing-gown to use it to hold something negates the primary purpose of a dressing-gown, namely to cover your body. I was now surer than ever that she had nothing on under that gown.

Showing amazing fortitude I did not notice the amount of skin revealed.

I grabbed the jar from her and hastily unscrewed the top.

"Thanks," she said. "I really need this. Want to stay for a cup?"

"Why not?" I said, sitting down at the table, looking her over as I did so.

"Umm, how old are you now, Marcia?" I asked her, genuinely interested.

"Turned eighteen a couple of days ago," she said. "Why?"

"Just curious. There's something I think I need to tell you but I wasn't going to mention it if you were underage."

She gave me a slightly startled look. I couldn't decide if it was genuine or not. I gave a mental shrug and opted for genuine.

"Your buttons are coming undone," I said calmly, "demonstrating that you're not wearing a bra."

Glancing down she could see a lot of cleavage where her robe had gaped open. From where I was sitting I could see that same cleavage and one pink nipple peeping past the edge of her gown.

"Oops," she said with a giggle, adjusting the robe. "Careless of me. What must you think of me?"

"I'm thinking that you might just have done that deliberately," I said. "Not sure why, and don't really care. Are you going to do it again? It was very interesting scenery."

"What? No, I didn't. Why would I do that?"

"I already said that I don't know or care. What I am interested in is a repeat performance."

"Well, really. Do you expect me to just open my gown and flash you?"

If she was trying to sound indignant it didn't come off that way. Excited, yes. Indignant, no.

"I don't expect anything. I would like you to take that dressing-gown right off, though, so that I can properly appreciate your figure."

"Now, really. I couldn't do something like that."

The hell she couldn't. She couldn't wait to strip off. I had no idea why but she was aching to show herself off.

"I think you'll have to," I said softly.

"Why?" Not a refusal. I could sense her anticipation of the great reveal.

"Well, I can't really take it off for you. It would be most reprehensible of me. That doesn't mean I can't sit back, watch, and admire, while you do it."

She was lightly chewing on her lip, breathing a little harder. A couple of small tents showed what her nipples thought of the idea. Stripping was the entire reason she'd called for me to come over.

"You won't try to touch me, will you?" she asked.

"Not if you don't want me to," I assured her. The fact that she did want me to was politely ignored by both of us.

She dithered for another moment or two but it was plain her mind was already made up. She'd probably decided this before she even called me. Biting lightly on her lip she undid her belt and shrugged out of the dressing-gown. When she'd straightened it earlier she hadn't bothered to do her buttons up so that simple shrug let the gown slither down onto the floor, leaving her standing there naked.

High firm breasts, nipples nicely peaked. A 36D would be my guess, but I could have been wrong. It didn't matter. Once I started stroking those beauties I was sure they'd swell to the aforementioned 36D.

I let my eyes run over her, letting her see just where I was looking. When my gaze rested on her mons and below she blushed, moving her hands to cover herself.

"Don't do that," I told her. "You're spoiling the view."

Blushing, she dropped her hands to her sides, letting me admire her.

I pushed my chair back from the table. "Come here," I said, patting my lap.

She edged towards me, not protesting but not rushing to obey. Once she was within reach I pulled her closer, parting my legs and pulling her down to sit on my knee, her legs between mine. I leaned forward and captured a nipple between my lips, lightly sucking on it. At the same time my hand drifted between her legs, stroking along her inner thigh.

I took my time, stroking her breasts, thighs, vulva. I could feel her reacting, slowly getting worked up. Not all that slowly, actually, but I wasn't taking all the credit for that. She'd already been somewhat excited from the moment I walked through the door. She'd already decided to seduce me and I found myself unable to resist. (I guess I'm weak that way.)

A couple of times her hand had wandered over to my groin and then shied away. She just wasn't that confident yet. I took her hand and pressed it against my groin, letting her feel the swelling tumescence hidden there.

"Unzip me and see what you can find," I told her, my own hand wreaking havoc around her vulva.

Having clear directions she didn't even hesitate, unzipping me, undoing the button at the top of the zip, and parting my fly, her hand darting in to find her prize. First of all she held me through my shorts and then found that the shorts had an open fly. Her hand slipped past the fly and closed over the length of me, pulling it out into the light with some urgency.

"Ooh. That's, ah, bigger than I'd expected," she mumbled.

"I wouldn't worry about that," I told her. "You'll find that when the time comes it'll be just the right size."

She bit her lip lightly, looking just a little worried, but didn't try to deny what was going to happen. I had a couple of fingers inside her at this stage, keeping her arousal building.

As of that moment she was mine. I could just swing her around so that she sat on my cock and she wouldn't resist. Still, that wasn't what I wanted.

"Marcia," I said, attracting her attention and indicating the hall where the sun was shining through a window onto the carpet. "I'm going to lay you in the sunshine and get a little closer acquainted."

I rose to my feet, picking her up as I did so. My trousers and shorts slid down to my ankles so I shuffled a little as I moved over to the hall, lowering Marcia so that she was on her back in the sunshine, looking up at me.

"I want you to watch this," I said softly.

I reached for her ankles and lifted them high and wide. She was now effectively bent double with a clear view of her own pussy. Her lips were pouting, wet and eager, and all I really needed to do was press the head of my cock against her soft lips. She made a gasping sound as I started to press home. Then I was pressing against her hymen and I paused.

"This might hurt a bit as a first time," I explained, slowly increasing the pressure.

"Fuck that," she snapped at me, pushing urgently up against me. She gave a small scream as her hymen yielded right of way, and then she simply continued to press against me, taking me into her, eyes glued to where my cock was penetrating her.

I fully shafted her a lot faster than I'd intended to, but that was so not my fault. For some reason she absolutely thrust herself onto me, giving a low hissing cry of yes as she did so. I held myself firmly inside her and gave her an irritated look.

"Marcia, you're an idiot," I told her. "You had no idea what you were doing but did it anyway. You could have easily hurt yourself, and it's no thanks to you that you didn't. Now I suggest that from this point on you move with me, letting me set the pace. I suspect that if I leave it to you you'll just go berserk and endeavour to milk me just as fast as possible, which will result in you missing out on what you really want."

"I thought boys wanted it fast," she protested.

"Oh, we do, and you will get it that way - eventually. Just not right from the word go. The idea is to start slow so that you can build up your expectations, moving with more vigour as things progress. Now relax and just move with me. Move your legs down and wrap them around my waist."

Her legs clamped around me and I started moving in her, pulling back and sliding home again. I wasn't really trying to teach her a lesson when I deliberately kept my movement to a smooth slow pace. (Who am I kidding? Of cause I was.)

She was a good little girl and moved with me to start with, humming contentedly. It didn't take all that long before she began to get a little discontented.

"Um, you can go a little faster now," she mumbled to me, trying to make me by shifting her own body a little faster, not having much luck as I adjusted to allow for it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Do it!"

"If you're certain," I said, upgrading my efforts from dead slow to slow.

"Not like that," she protested. She was not having a bar of my 'faster' pace. "Do it properly."

I proceeded to fuck her in a more normal manner, bouncing on her in fine style, and she was bouncing under me and encouraging me to do more. Marcia apparently found this new style a lot more to her taste. We managed like this for a while and I could tell that Marcia was getting completely carried away with the things she was feeling. She was getting rather verbose in her appreciation and I suspected that a climax wasn't too far away.

"Now it's time to do it fast," I told her.

She looked startled and then shocked as I started hammering away as hard as I could. She tried to stay with me but her body just carried her away, and she was shrieking as she climaxed. I hosed her down, taking my own pleasure, smiling at the way she was reacting to her climax.

She finally settled down and just looked at me, for once speechless.

"I do hope you're on the pill," I said, "as I never thought of contraception."

"Yes. I'm not an idiot." Implying that I was? "I started on it a year ago for medical reasons."

I moved off her, lying on the carpet next to her, one hand casually resting on a breast, idly stroking it.

"That was very interesting," she said, "but it's only fair to tell you that it won't happen again."

"Do tell," I said.

"Mm. You have to understand you're way too old to be a steady boyfriend for me. I thought you'd be willing to help me learn, but that has to be the end of it."

"What if I don't want it to end just yet?" I asked, curious.

"I guess you'd be out of luck," she said, sounding both determined and sympathetic. "If you try to continue and do it again I'd have to complain to my father and he'd get you fired for trying to molest me. It's not as though you'll be able to tell anyone that you popped my cherry. I'd deny it and no-one would believe you."

"Thought it through, haven't you," I said, feeling amused. "Don't worry, though. I won't come around harassing you. Not my style. Mind you, if you want to come around and harass me you'll find that I'm very weak-willed where a beautiful young girl is concerned. I'd happily teach you a few things."

She blushed and shook her head.

"Not going to happen."

That seemed to be that so I rose to my feet, doing up my trousers. I pulled Marcia to her feet, gave her a quick kiss, kissed her nipples, patted her behind, and went on my way, wishing her all the best.

As I strolled back to my unit I contemplated a few things that I knew that Marcia didn't. Little thing like the fact that the apartment complex was one of my investments. Acting as care-taker didn't take up much time and saved me money. Little things like the fact that now Marcia had had her cherry popped and thoroughly enjoyed it she was going to want to repeat the exercise. If she didn't have a current boyfriend guess whose name would spring to mind the next time she felt horny? Yeah, that's my guess, too. Interesting times lay ahead.