Tia's Birthday    MF

Tia's Birthday


It was Tia's birthday, and she was to turn 21.  This would mark her
entrance into society.  It would be the first time that she could
drink, legally, and not have to hide it from prying eyes.  That was
one among things she would no longer have to hide.  

Her parents had left on a cruise, for it was the only time they could
go.  They had apologized, but had left presents behind.  All of them
bore tags, saying, "Do not open until August 5th".  She had left them
unopened, because she had always found surprises to be exciting.

It had been a slow week, leaving her with nothing to do but plan.
Whatever her birthday would be like, though, it would involve the
pool.  She stood, draped over the railing of the stairs, looking down
through the sliding glass doors at the sparkling expanse outside.

It had been in the pool that she had first made love.  The day was
ending, suspending the world in a relaxing time between light and
sunset; the balmy winds blew, creating the feel of a tropical
paradise.  She and Richard were by the pool, talking about nothing.
Though, she remembered, she had been staring at his legs.  He had
always worn slacks before, and the musculature of his legs, with the
wiry black hairs, seemed to scream for her to caress them.  She
breathed adrenalein with just the thought.

He noticed.  "What are you looking at?"  Still shy about her desires,
she blushed.  (Though she had felt the calling of some great pleasure
out there, she shut such desires from her mind; now, she would have to
face them.)  Though they had been going further each date, there
seemed to be some point which they had tacitly agreed not to cross;
French kissing, and maybe petting in a few safe areas, but that was
it.  Fortunately, their relationship had been marked by a high level
of honesty.  She felt that she could share this with him, and not be
ridiculed, though she still felt as though she were walking out onto a
weakened bridge.
  "I was looking at your legs, Richard."  The words came out as if she
were upbraiding him, almost chastising him for affecting her so.  She
gulped at the sensousness she had conveyed.

He smiled, and then took her hand, drawing closer out of some urgency.
Her heart thudded in her chest as he spoke.  "Why don't we go
swimming?"  At the furtive looks between them, she could almost read
his mind.

"But I don't have a swimsuit on," she protested, knowing that that was
irrelevant, somehow.  "Neither do I," he said, calmly.  

She had dressed in a skirt, and a white, silken top.  The water would
expose her breasts for sure, though probably not her lower regions,
she thought.  "What about my outfit?" she asked, almost desperately,
fighting down the urge to French kiss him then and there; after that,
she might run her hands up and down his legs...

He smiled, granting a concession.  "I don't want you to ruin your
clothes," he said.  "Maybe you better go get a swimsuit on," he said.
"But I thought you had...backup clothes."

She blushed; she had told him that she had another silken shirt like
this one, and many skirts like the one she had on.  She could feel his
eyes on her, like fires, warming her whole body, and though she knew
it didn't make much sense, she felt it would please him.  And the
fires lit inside her made her say "yes".

Without a word, she stood up, and walked into the water from the
shallow end.  It was warm, and the water closed around her seamlessly.
It had reached her midriff, when she ducked under the water, and then
flipped herself up, sending water flying everywhere.  Her blonde hair
was glazed back, plastered to her scalp, and her nipples could be seen
through the soaked shirt, which clung to her in many folds.  She gazed
at him seductively, a playful smile upon her face, and walked over to
the edge, letting her weight rest on her breasts on the poolside.

She heard the chair scrape as he got up, and came to her side.  She
looked up at him, as he laid down, stretching his body behind him, and
bringing himself face-to-face with her.  Her eyes closed in delight as
he french-kissed her, their tongues chasing each other in sudden
ecstacy.  She rose to a new level as his hands unbuttoned her blouse,
and removed her bra, and finally, caressed her breasts.  She felt as
though she was coasting on a cloud high above the world, free from any
pain; all that endured was the warm wind which carried her along his
tongue probing; his mouth, kissing her, his lips sliding against hers
in a torrent of passion, and his wonderful hands, gently feeling her,
pulling her nipples to erection.  

After that lasted half of forever, he pulled away.  She looked up at
him, disappointed, her frown castigating him for stopping.  He stood
up, and pulled his shirt off, and the thought returned to her: what of
his legs, now his chest?  She could play endlessly, touching and
carressing his manly definitions.  She even caught herself looking at
his legs, eyes roaming further up to the bulge in his pants.  That
thought was put on hold as he splashed into the pool to join her.
They kissed, fondled each other with his back to the side, then with
her back, then underwater, whatever they could think of.

Then she said, "Come here."  He did so, sensing the serious passion in
her.  She was now brave, made strong by the fires within her, that
called for even higher heights, and greater emotions.  "Lie down on
the steps, please."  He did so, and she knelt on the steps, the
chlorinated water sloshing across them.  Hands trembling at first, she
traced his ankles, then slowly made her way up his legs, seizing the
strength in them, feeling the hardness of his muscles against her
skin.  He lay back, eyes closed in pleasure.  "I am causing that?" she
wondered, trailing drops of water across his body, squeezing,
pinching, loving his thighs, secretly watching as his penis grew in
response.  She drew circles on his chest, and he reached out for her,
pulling her across him sideways, kissing her deeply, passionately.
She moved her legs around so that she lay atop him, and felt his
warmth pushing against hers.  At first she drew back, but his tongue
came after her, kissing her on her lips, down her neck, and finally
upon her breasts.  She shivered with pleasure, his tongue licking and
his lips nibbling.  Heat began to course through her crotch, in waves
of sudden pleasure.  "Oh, please, don't stop," she managed to say.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't for the world," he said.  But he did stop,
moving down her body, tongue kissing her navel, hands caressing her
back and sides; waves of pleasure like lightning shot through her, and
then she realized what had to be done.  He could not continue to love
her as he had before; after today, how could things be the same?  She
must have him.  

She pushed him away, and reclined on the steps.  Looking at him the
whole time, she spread her legs apart, and unbuttoned her skirt; she
pulled it off, and let it sink into the water.  He looked at her,
transfixed.  Then she pulled her shimmery, lacy panties away, and gave
them to him.  "Take me," she said.

He lost no time removing his shorts and underwear, leaving them to dry
outside the pool.  His member captured her attention -- it pulsated
with every beat of her heart, and a mixture of fear with pleasure
arose within her.  "It won't hurt, will it?"

"No," he assured her.  "Tia, I only want to love you, not hurt you."
He took her hair in his hands, and slowly worked his way down,
caressing all of her.  When he reached her pussy, he moved towards her
and opened it with his fingers.  She groaned; what she had done before
to herself, felt so much better when someone else did it!  He slid his
cock into her, and began to move in and out.  

With the tails of her lace shirt adrift in the water, and his hands
cupping her ass, legs half-in, half-out of water, she came.  A misty,
mystical world seemed to open to her, a golden place where every
breath was pleasure, like it was then; it was perfect, with his
professions of love, his thrusting, her sensitivity (it felt like
heaven when he touched her nipples), her orgasms, erupting with each
wave of water that they made.  He came, filling her with his white-hot
seed, and she loved him for it, feeling that part of him warming her
without him touching her.  She sat up, lazily, and kissed him on the
lips.