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Archive-name: SpecMome/philly.txt

Archive-author: Michael K. Smith

Archive-title: Philly

[Almost all of this story is factual. My motives weren't really so clear

at the time, and some of the dialogue has been made more coherent for the

reader's convenience, but all of this really happened. If you were in

Phoenix that weekend, you undoubtedly remember the jacuzzi. If you recall

the red-bearded bloke in the back corner, the one with the lazy

ex-swimmer's physique, that was me. And if you know Philly (assuming she

still uses that nickname) show her this story and see if she remembers her

"Uncle" Sam....] 


  I met Philly in the jacuzzi on the Fifth Floor pool deck of the Phoenix

Hyatt over Labor Day weekend, 1978.  It was the weekend of the World

Science Fiction Convention, known this time as "Iguanacon," and it was

definitely one of the lustier WorldCons I've attended.

  Since the fans had taken over the entire hotel -- no "civilians" on the

premises to be leery of -- the hall parties went on all night and very few

people felt the need for swim suits on the pool deck.

  The overwhelming majority of fans are very tolerant of eccentric public

attire (or lack of it) at large cons.  Young school teachers, who have to

be careful not to mow their lawns in short-shorts back home, will sally

forth in see-through harem pants at a con, or even a couple of strings of

strategically placed sea shells.  It's part of the "Con Code" that one

does not take photos of sexy hall costumes without permission, but the

young ladies involved seldom refuse.  It's all part of the fun.  Fans are

usually very relaxed and trusting when surrounded by several thousand of

their own kind ... and that's one of the best reasons for attending a con

in the first place.

  The temperature was way up in Phoenix that weekend, and the humidity

was way down, with the result that several people fainted on the short

walk between the air-conditioned hotel and the air-conditioned convention

center.  The dry, moisture-sucking heat continued past sundown and the

pool deck filled up rapidly.  Fans without swim suits lost their shirts

first and sat on the edge of the pool with their feet in the water, but as

the sun went down the relatively cool desert breeze came up.  Then the

jacuzzi began to boil and there was no looking back.

  I heard comments in the hotel corridors: "Wow!  You ought to go down to

the pool!  Acres of skin!"  I could think of no reason to avoid the pool,

so I went, too.  It was a large open space with two pools, a regular one

with two diving boards and a smaller, shallower one for kids.  And that

high-tech jacuzzi, approximately circular and at least 15 feet in

diameter.  The bubbling of the jets was loud and inviting, and so was the

mist of steam drifting across the surface of the water.

  I was pleasantly surprised to note a dozen or more bodies in the

jacuzzi, all of them naked.  Three or four additional con-goers were

paddling around in the larger, cooler pool, also naked, and numerous other

fans (or "fen") were in various stages of undress, either coming or going. 

No glamour, just bodies, all shapes and sizes, ranging in age from late

teens to mid-60s ... but all of them relaxed and unembarrassed.  My kind

of place.  I don't embarrass easily, and certainly not about nudity.  I

stripped, hid my room key-card and my wallet in one deck shoe, stashed my

glasses in the other shoe, and wrapped my jeans around them.  Since I was

there by myself, I tucked the rolled-up clothing on a ledge at eye-level

in the stone wall backing the jacuzzi, where I could keep an eye on it. 

Then I stepped carefully in the roiling water, letting myself adjust a

little at a time.  Several other newcomers were doing the same.

  I had just turned 29 a month before and was increasingly conscious of

the Big Three-Oh looming ahead of me -- especially since my physical

fitness had gone to hell in recent years.  Teaching junior college while

researching a doctoral thesis didn't leave much room in my schedule for

methodical exercise, and I was a long way from the shape I had been in as

a swimmer and track letterman in high school.  So I was a bit

self-conscious about my lack of condition, but a glance to either side

took care of that.

  On my left was a woman in her early 20s, about 5'2" and at least 175

pounds.  She smiled back cheerfully and moved down another step.  Her

rolls of flesh shimmied and her almost huge breasts bounced slowly.  So

did her thighs.  On the other side of me was a man in his 60s who seemed

quite at home with his protruding pot belly.  His full beard merged with

the thick mat on his chest and his equally thick leg hair almost concealed

his groin.  He had more hair on his ass, I think, than I had on my chest. 

Both my companions were reassuring, though, in their acceptance of their

personal appearances.  Just ordinary people, all three of us.  But, of

course, we weren't the only folks in the pool.

  As I settled down with the steam drifting around my jaw, I watched a

well- tanned kid of about 19 hurry laughing down the steps and splash into

the middle where the water was about waist deep.  His penis was semi-erect

and the reason for his condition flung herself into the jacuzzi right

behind him: A vivacious girl who appeared about 16 but whom I decided

*had* to be older.  Her body was also beach-brown, with no bikini marks,

and she was very obviously a natural blonde.  Her pale, shoulder-length

hair, now plastered wetly to her neck, was a close match for her fine,

sparse pubic hair.  Her cleft, probably shaved, glistened moistly for a

fascinating moment when she leapt in after her boyfriend and hooked a

sleek, nicely muscled arm over his shoulder.

  Their happy splashing, which included a lot of seemingly random

touching, caused a series of wave fronts to break against the couples

lined up along the back wall of the hot pool.  They must be sitting on a

bench, I thought; all their heads were at about the same level and water

lapped at their collarbones.

  A couple of the back-row relaxers took exception to the wave-making,

probably because their mouths were suddenly awash, and I heard several

say, not unkindly, "Hey, man,... take it easy, huh...?"

  The two teenagers heard the complaint and grinned sheepishly as they

waded to a far corner and hunkered down.  The water came up to their

chins, but from their expressions it was obvious their submerged hands

were busy.  The other bathers ignored them completely, except perhaps for

a knowing and sympathetic smile.  A small crowd of naked, mostly young

people in a hot, steaming pool together?  Of *course* sex was an

ingredient, and everyone on the pool deck knew it and accepted it.  But

that didn't mean the mix would degenerate into a public orgy.  Mouths

murmured into ears and light kisses were exchanged.  Some single guys

chatted together and so did several single girls and women.  The

atmosphere was nearly lacking in social or psychological pressure, even

when it came to sex.

  Every few minutes, someone would rise and climb the steps out of the

jacuzzi; a few seconds later, they could be heard diving or jumping into

the main pool -- followed by a loud "Whooo!"  After ten minutes or so of

parboiling myself, I felt the same need to re-balance my body temperature,

and I stood up.  The air temperature was still in the 80s, but after the

hot pool the breeze felt distinctly chilly.

  I climbed quickly up the steps and moved over to the large pool. 

Dipping a hand in, I found the water tepid from standing all day under the

Phoenix sun, but I suspected my body's reaction to it might be more

extreme.  Two people jumped in and joined the others already splashing

around, while I stood there on the edge and thought about it.  I had taken

3rd Place in High School Varsity All-State Freestyle in 1963, right? 


  I waited for an open spot in front of me and attempted my first racing

dive in several years.  In that first split-second below the surface, I

metamorphosed from human to penguin -- *damn,* it was cold!  I popped to

the surface like everyone else, whooshing from the shock.  My teeth

chattered and goose bumps erupted simultaneously all over my body.  But

after a few minutes, my shivering tapered off as my internal thermostat

adjusted itself.  I stroked a couple lengths of the pool (just to prove to

myself that I still could) and then simply treaded water for awhile.  The

water temperature seemed more normal now, which meant I was probably ready

for another cycle in the jacuzzi.   I paused -- together with every other

male in the pool and most of the women -- as a tall, graceful,

broad-shouldered young woman did a half-gainer off the low board.  She had

a swimmer's musculature and short, straight black hair.  Her pubic hair

was trimmed neatly in a small rectangle just above her pussy, which was

quite bare; like gymnasts, most competitive swimmers shave themselves


  She entered the water slick as a seal and when she popped to the

surface (no "Whoooo!," I noticed) she received a scattering of

appreciative applause, both for her skill and style and for the lovely

image she had presented up there on the board.  An athletic young man

immediately breast-stroked over to her and struck up a quiet conversation. 

She didn't turn away and several other guys nearby sighed and went back to

their dog-paddling.  I wondered idly if there would be a bed unslept-in

tonight.  That thought gave me the beginnings of an erection and I had to

wait another few minutes to compose myself before leaving the pool; I

noticed none of the other guys had left immediately, either.  As it turned

out, the timing of my return to the hot pool was perfect.

  I hauled myself up the pool ladder and noticed that the breeze didn't

seem as chilly as it had been.  My first step back into the jacuzzi was

comfortably scalding.  I was watching where I put my feet so I wouldn't

slip on the steps ... so I wasn't immediately aware of the scene unfolding

just in front of me.   Four feet away, standing hip-deep in the center of

the hot pool, was a teenage boy facing away from me.  Facing him -- and me

-- was a slender, young-looking girl with a bewildered expression.  She

was an inch or so taller than the boy, with that lovely shade of light

reddish-blonde hair known as "strawberry"; it fell around her shoulders in

a bright cloud under the subdued pool deck lighting.  The boy's hands were

moving busily but he had an avid audience of three other guys about his

own age and I couldn't quite see what he was up to.  So I took a couple of

steps to one side -- and stared.    His hands covered her small breasts,

rubbing and squeezing in jerky circles.  His cock was twitching upward,

the tip just brushing her sparse pubic hair.  And she just stood there

flatfooted, her arms hanging at her sides.  Was she retarded?  In shock? 

Hypnotized?  She plainly had no idea at all what she should do.

  As I watched, one of the onlookers reached out and tentatively touched

her hip.  I glanced at the back-benchers.  Several couples were furtively

watching the little drama unfold and were whispering urgently to each

other.  The kid with busy hands looked at the hip-toucher -- they didn't

seem to be acquainted -- and muttered something assertive.  The second kid

ignored him and put the palm of his hand flat on the girl's hipbone.  An

anti-poaching warning, ignored.  It was obvious that these two were not

working their game together.  Then I realized that the boy was wet all

over, hair plastered to his head, while the girl was still dry from the

crotch up -- a very recent arrival, presumably while I was still in the

main pool.

  The girl's eyes flicked about and I thought I saw (or decided to see)

desperation in them.  Her gaze finally locked on mine; perhaps I was the

only person looking directly at her face.  Neither her posture nor her

expression changed, except that her rather full lips parted slightly.  For

whatever reason, I interpreted that small movement as a plea for rescue. 

I had to get involved.

  It's difficult to appear convincingly aggressive when you're naked and

wet but I gave it my best shot.  I sucked in what gut I had and waded up

to the principal groper -- on the shallow side, to make me appear taller. 

I already had three inches and thirty pounds on the kid and, like most

ex-competitive swimmers, I'm built broad in the shoulders.  I raised my

chin so I could look down my nose at him and hummed a soft tone deep in my

throat to be sure I could deliberately lower the register of my voice.

  I stepped into the fringe of the guy's vision and he glanced at me, saw

my face, and froze.  I have long been a student and conscious practitioner

of body language and I was wearing my best Intimidation Stare: Hard, cold,

unblinking eye contact and tight-lipped, with my jaw muscles visibly

clenching and loosening.

  I kept the volume of my voice down but it was clearly heard by everyone

within ten feet: "You will take your hands off my niece instantly or I

shall break your fingers."  No obvious anger in my monotone, which was

what convinced the teenager of my intent.  I clenched a fist at my side,

which made my bicep move.  I reached out with my other hand, brushing the

hip-groper back without touching him, and took the staring girl gently by

the upper arm.  "Sarah?  Why are you letting them abuse you?"  It was

simply the first name that came to me.  "Let's move over out of the

traffic, shall we?"  I stepped between the two young men and back quickly

out of my way; I had moved as though I assumed they would make way for me,

so they did.  I squeezed the girl's arm slightly and she blinked.  The

corners of her mouth tried to smile but were unsuccessful.  Her face had

acquired a guilty look and that completed the picture for the onlookers. 

I moved my guiding hand down to her elbow and nudged her away toward the

end of the hot pool's back bench, and she let me.  I couldn't tell whether

she was glad to be rescued, frightened by my taking control of her, or

still simply bewildered.

  As we moved away, I was aware of relieved looks from others in the

pool.  They had all wanted something to be done but hadn't wanted to get

themselves involved.  But now what was *I* going to do with her?

  I turned my head slightly as we waded deeper and whispered very softly. 

"I couldn't just stand there and watch that.  Are you okay?"

  She nodded fractionally and took a deep breath.  "Yeah.  I didn't know

what to do -- they scared me.  I've never been ... like this ... with

other people around.  I didn't know what they expected from me...."

  "Nobody has the right to expect *anything* from you, uh ... what do I

call you?"

  "Philly."  She glanced at me and quickly looked down.  Even in the dim

pool lights, her eyes glowed an intense and hypnotic green.

  "'Filly'?"  I smiled.  She *was* sort of coltish....

  "Short for 'Phyllis'."

  Ah.  "My name's 'Sam'," I lied.  I was portraying her "uncle," after

all.  I still liked the way I had first heard it.  "Filly."

  A couple had just left the end of the underwater bench, where the wall

angled to form a cozy almost-corner.  I eased myself down onto the bench;

the water lapped comfortably at the base of my throat.  Philly hesitated. 

I put on my most benign smile.  I had already let go of her elbow and she

could simply turn and go if she wanted to.  If so, well, I had done my

good deed for the day.  But her decision to stay was transparent on her

face.  She had decided I was "safe."

  I wasn't sure I could agree with her.  On the short wade across the

jacuzzi I had become very aware of her smooth, fair skin, now flushed from

the heat of the pool.  Of the slight sway of her narrow hips as she pushed

through the water.  Of the coordinated bounce of her hair and her small

breasts.  Most of all, I was captivated by her face.  Those brilliant

green eyes, framed by thick blonde lashes and topped by reddish eyebrows. 

The narrow nose and the surprisingly full, very red lips.  The firm

profile of her chin, above a long, beautiful neck.

  At first, from a distance, she had seemed about 15 years old.  I had

upped that estimate to a young 17 -- which was still jailbait.  But I

couldn't help it; for the past several minutes, my cock had been coming

increasingly to attention and now it stuck out like a bowsprit.  If I had

swung around to face her, I would have poked her in the abdomen.  This was

definitely a problem because I did *not* want to be guilty of assault

myself ... and I wasn't sure seduction was a fair game under the


  I was pleased and relieved when the girl decided to stay awhile.  I was

lusting in my heart, as they say, but I wasn't sure yet what I was going

to do about it, if anything.  My first decision arrived a moment later,

when Philly tried to sit on the bench beside me.  She wasn't quite tall

enough and the steaming water threatened to flood her mouth.  She

sputtered and waved her hands through the water, trying to hover a couple

of inches above the bench; it apparently didn't occur to her to tuck her

legs under her.   "I have a lap that's not being used," I said softly.

  After a moment's hesitation, she smiled slightly and said "Okay," just

as softly.  She pushed herself upward as I moved sideways and she settled

across my thighs with her back tucked into the angle of the wall.  As I

shifted position, I also quickly pushed my cock between my legs; that

would have been too rude a surprise and I certainly didn't want to

frighten her away now.    She leaned back against the wall and seemed to

relax; I hadn't realized how tense she was until that moment.  I set one

hand very lightly on her knee, to keep her from being dislodged by the

bubbling of the nearby jet in the wall, and leaned back myself.  No


  I let my eyes drift nearly shut and simply enjoyed the pleasurable

sensation of a teenage girl's bare bottom perched on my lap.  I imagined I

could feel the tickle of the hair between her legs against my thigh, but

it was more likely to be my own thick bush against the back of *her* leg. 

The currents swirled around my calf and I realized she was slowly kicking

her feet back and forth, like a child on a swing.  I liked that, too.  I

opened my eyes a minute of two later to find Philly's wide green eyes

quietly studying my face.  The water lapped at her chest just about where

a strapless gown would come to.  With only her head and shoulders showing,

she somehow seemed older still.  Nineteen, perhaps?

  I raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled enough to show some small,

brilliant white teeth.  Her arm rose from the water and draped itself

casually across my shoulder, and her long, slender fingers stroked the

back of my neck.  "You're nice," she said.  "When I came down here and

saw everyone so easy and relaxed and everything, I thought maybe I could

join in and still be safe.  I've never been anyplace like this -- not even

a nude beach.  And then that guy came up and said something to me and ...

and started doing things.  And I didn't know what to do."  She paused.  "I

said all that, though, didn't I?"   "Some of it," I admitted.  "But don't

worry about it.  You have a lovely voice; it goes with your eyes and your

hair."  I couldn't tell if she blushed or not.

  "Well, I feel a lot better with you, Sam."  This time her smile was

warm and I felt my imprisoned cock begin to stir again.

  That meant I *had* to know.  "Philly,... please don't take this the

wrong way,... but would you mind very much if I asked how old you are?"    

She looked down.  "You're older than I am.  I mean, does it matter?"  

"Maybe not.  Maybe it shouldn't.  But I don't want to get you in trouble. 

Or me, to be honest," I added.  "Look, I'm not insisting, Philly.  But I'm

curious.  You keep shifting age on me.  Right now, I'm guessing 19 or

20...."    She seemed pleased but then she sighed.  "How about 16? 

Barely."   Sixteen?  Only 16, "barely"?  Shit.  Did I really want to pursue

this?  Did I dare?  Philly removed her hand from the back of my neck and

started to get up from my lap.

  "I'm sorry, Sam.  I'll go someplace else.  I didn't mean to mislead

you, honest...."  She looked sad and if she was acting, she was good.  But

I knew instantly that I didn't want her to go.  I was nearly twice her age

and I didn't give a damn.

  "Hey, hey, hey, hey," I laughed.  I grabbed her around the waist and

resettled her on my lap.  Then I stroked the small of her back until I

felt her spine uncoil.

  "Please, Philly -- you just surprised me, is all.  But I don't want you

to go, I really don't.  You're a very lovely girl and I'd be lying if I

pretended I didn't appreciate that.  You're also just ... *nice*.  You

feel nice and you smell nice.  I guess that sounds silly."

  And it was all true, but I knew I had won when she smiled glowingly,

leaned forward on my lap, and clasped her hands around my neck.  She

kissed me lightly on the cheek and I returned it by kissing her on the

ear.  I was careful not to push things beyond wherever they were destined

to go.  I'd be perfectly happy just sitting there with her on my lap,

friendly and comfortable.

  Then our attention was drawn by a couple hunkered down in the water a

few feet away.  Probably what caught my ear was the sound the girl made --

a low throated giggle ending in a soft, humming moan.  It was a sound that

made my testicles tingle, a sensual sound.  Philly's hands twitched when

she heard that low moan and then she was staring at the other couple, who

seemed about college age.

  They had apparently been squatting, facing each other, the water up

around their necks.  But now the girl was higher in the water, her shining

wet breasts fully exposed, and it was obvious that her crotch and the

boy's were trying to occupy the same space.

  She was a blonde, white-toothed surfer-girl type with large, bouncing

breasts, and her bent knees poked out of the water on either side of his

hips.  The boy's blond hair was longer than the girl's and he was nuzzling

in the valley between those tits.

  The girl reached far down between their bodies to make adjustments and

the boy blinked and grunted a little.  Then they began to rock slowly back

and forth, eyes half-closed.

  My cock stiffened and I knew that other people in our part of the

jacuzzi were also discretely aware of the sexual act taking place before

them.  I glanced at Philly's face.  She was transfixed and unthinkingly

squeezed her thighs together.

  "Nice, isn't it?"  Her attention bounced back to me when I spoke, and

she blushed -- but only a little.

  "It's nice that they can be open and honest about their need, their

desire for each other," I explained.  Philly licked her lips and moved one

hand from my neck to *my* hand, still resting on her knee.  She looked

down at where our hands were, just under the water.

  "What that guy was doing when you ... rescued me?  He was rough, and he

didn't ask, and I didn't like it.  But I think I'd like it if *you* did

it, Sam...."  She arched her back so her hard little nipples were at the

water line and lifted my hand to one of them.  It was as open an

invitation as anyone could ask for.  My other hand was still around her

waist and I urged her face toward mine.  The kiss was exhilarating --

tentative but trusting and giving on her part, firm and knowledgeable on


  Philly sighed as I slowly worked her nipple between my fingers and

cupped her breast in my hand.  She edged closer and laid her head on my

shoulder, like a child, her other nipple pressing into my ribs.  My hand

in the small of her back shifted to stroke her smooth, slender flank.

  I realized this girl, who was little more than half my age, was

trembling.  I tried to look down at her face but I could see only her

shimmering, curling hair and her narrow, lightly tanned shoulder.  She

ducked her head further.  "Philly?  What's the matter, babe?  You're

shaking...."    Her voice was small.  "I've just never done this."

  "Sixteen years old and you've never made out?  So beautiful, and no guy

has ever wanted to touch you?  I find that hard to believe."

  She made a "huh" sound that wasn't quite a laugh.  "Sure, I've made out

a few times.  In some older guy's car, usually.  I've let two guys touch

my ... my tits -- but no farther.  But I've *never* been naked in a hot

tub, with a lot of other naked people I don't know, sitting on a guy's lap

and making out -- while a couple of people are fucking just right over

there!  It makes me nervous, okay?  I feel like I don't know what's

happening...."  I took my hand from her breast and moved it up and down

her outstretched thigh with long, slow strokes.  "If you'd rather I quit,

Philly, I will.  I know you said you wanted me to, and it's *very* nice,

but I don't want to scare you, either."

  "No."  She sat up and took a deep breath, letting it out evenly.  The

shakes died away.  "I'm 16 and I'm old enough to learn *something* about

sex.  I don't know you at all, Sam, not really -- but i have this feeling

that you were probably 'making out' before I was even born."  Got me

there, I thought.    "The guys I date are all so *young*.  I mean, they're

nice and they're my age, but they don't know any more than I do, really. 

Like, 'the blind leading the blind', ya know?  You were real nice to me

earlier and you're being nice to me now.  Maybe I *need* an older man, to

teach me things.  A man who's nice and won't take advantage of me, who --

who won't hurt me."  She hooked her arms around my neck again and nuzzled

my ear.  The little thrill-chills went all the way to the base of my spine

as she whispered.  "There's so much I need to know, isn't there, Sam?  So

I won't be afraid of sex.  So I *can* enjoy it, like everyone says you

should.  And I know you know what it is I need to learn.  Don't you?  Can

you teach me, Sam?  Some of it, anyway?"  Her nose was tickling the inside

of my ear and my cock, still trapped between my legs, was becoming

desperate.  "I trust you, Sam," she breathed.

  How could I humanly resist someone so young and vibrant?  So

cute/beautiful?  Easy: I couldn't.  I wasn't *that* old.

  "Look -- over there!"  I refocused.  Off in the other back corner of

the jacuzzi a couple in their late 20s -- about my age, actually -- was

standing in a comparatively shallow area where the water came only to the

tops of their thighs.  They were long-time lovers, that much was obvious

by the way their bodies fit.  They were pressed together, arms wrapped

around each other, hands roaming hungrily.  They kissed in a passionate

glow, perhaps turned on by the circumstances of their surroundings.

  "Watch *them*, Philly," I whispered.  "They're really beautiful -- sex

combined with love.  I can't teach you about that; no one can.  No one has

to, really."

  I turned her chin with a finger, to direct her gaze at yet another

couple who were sitting on the lower steps that entered the pool.  The guy

was maybe 25 but the woman he was stroking so adoringly was probably ten

years his senior.  Very nice looking, though, and in very good condition. 

They sat side by side, dueling with their tongues.  His hand was busy

between her legs, fingering her clit, and she was slowly jerking her off

-- all in plain sight.  The jacuzzi was definitely loosening up.

  Another robust surfer girl was lounging in the deeper water surrounded

by the attentions of three young men who were caressing her body and

taking turns with her kisses, almost an act of worship.  It looked like

she was stroking at least two cocks in the process.  Philly took all this

in with in increasing air of acceptance.

  By twisting around to embrace me, Philly only managed to stay on my lap

courtesy of buoyancy and because I was hanging onto her legs.  After

observing the rising hormone level in the hot pool, she abruptly rose and

resettled herself astride my lap, knees on the bench on either side of my

legs..  My cock was also released and stood up rigidly between us.

  Philly gazed down at it in fascination, just below the surface, and

giggled.  After a moment's hesitation, she reached down and grasped it

gingerly, like a gearshift.  I made it twitch and her lovely wide eyes

snapped back to my face.

  I laughed gently and squeezed her firm little ass.  At the same time, I

scooted her body closer to mine, until the base of my cock nestled snugly

in the fork of her cunt.  It appeared to rise from the midst of the thin

patch of reddish-blonde curls.

  Philly was breathing harder.  She didn't attempt to jack me off but

both hands were now toying with my cock.  I slowly massaged both her

nipples and from her glazed expression I was sure she was enjoying the

blending of sensations.  Her inhibitions and nervousness had nearly

vanished.  I found great pleasure, oddly, not in immediately laying

siege to her virgin cunt, but simply in moving the palms of my hands up

and down her slightly bony sides, from her armpits and down her ribcage,

to her small, snug waist, out over her flaring but still narrow hips, and

down her long, lean thighs to the soft folds at the backs of her knees. 

Philly was so exciting to touch.

  And, judging by the way she shivered each time my hands made the trip,

she enjoyed being touched.  I suppose it was also an act of worship, a

tribute to her youthful sexuality.

  Philly began to reciprocate, tracing the tips of her carefully

maintained nails from the back of my neck, across my shoulders, and down

my back as far as she could reach.  My skin popped up goose bumps and I

shivered, too.  She grinned and giggled in delight.

  Finally, after sitting like that for some minutes, crotch grinding

against crotch, petting each other, I reached the point where I felt I

would go crazy if I didn't kiss this lovely young thing.  I took her head

in my hands and brought her lips closer to mine.  She knew what was about

to happen and gripped my waist with her hands.  I took my time.  I was

sure she had never been properly kissed by a guy who knew what he was

doing and I intended to remedy that sad omission.

  Philly made as if to go straight into a clinch but I held her off with

a smile.  I softly brushed her full, red lips with mine and I heard her

heart rate increase.  Then the tip of my tongue traced the same path and

she moaned softly.  Her hands had left my waist and began moving

frantically over my back.  I could feel the delightful pressure of her

nipples against my chest.  And in the midst of this, she suddenly raised

her knees off the underwater bench and wrapped her long, slender legs

around my lower back.  She also shoved her open pussy against the base of

my rigid cock, which was now even more tightly trapped between us.

  It was a struggle to control my urges, but I managed it because I

wanted Philly's first passionate kiss to be as perfect and as memorable an

experience as I could make it.  I continued by sucking and nibbling

lightly on her lower lip.  Philly had a mouth reminiscent of Carly Simon

(but with better teeth), full and red and mobile.  She began copying me,

sucking on my lip in return, and it was a very successful strategy because

my own pulse rate was increasing.

  I pressed my mouth firmly against hers and she responded in kind,

holding me more tightly as she did so.  I swabbed my tongue across her

front teeth and beneath her upper lip; she tilted her head back and I felt

her nails flexing on my shoulders.  She darted her tongue into my mouth,

trying to surprise me, but I applied suction and bore down, holding her

face in my hands, as if I wanted to suck the youth out of her.

  When I tapered off after a minute or so and drew back, her whole body

was shaking again and her eyes had a wild, dazed look.  I thought at first

I had frightened her, but she took a deep breath and grasped my shoulders

with both hands.  Her ankles were locked behind my back and to any

observer I'm sure it appeared that I was fucking her brains out.

  She had to take several gulps of air before she could speak.  "God --

is it *always* like this?  No wonder girls are always getting pregnant!"   

Philly's incandescent reaction to being kissed was reflected back at me

and I felt the needle rise on my lust meter.  "Every times *should* be

like this," I replied with a smile.  "Especially when you're young and

everything is still new.  It's easy to become bored as you get older,

especially if you're not with the right person -- right for you, I mean. 

And the 'right person' can change with the circumstances.  You implied a

little while ago that I might be your 'right person', here and now.  Maybe

I am; I can certainly try to be.  I know you're doing wonderful things to

*me*, Philly!  Kissing you is like putting my tongue in a light socket!" 

I squeezed her elbows gently and eased her arms around me again.  I liked

the feeling of her fresh, enthusiastic body against mine.

  She nibbled at my ears, giving me renewed chills, and whispered "Sam? 

Are we going to do it?  Are we going to make love?"

  My cock twitched in response and she couldn't help but feel it move

against her abdomen.  She put her chin on my shoulder again and arched her

spine backward so she could slip both hands down between our bodies.   Her

touch was hesitant but she was becoming more sure of herself -- possibly

because I moaned quietly when her soft, young hand grasped the shaft of my

cock just below the head.  She moved her pelvis back and up a few inches

and pushed my organ down so that the tip of it pressed against the opening

to her secret self.  I could have thrust into her easily but I knew I

wouldn't, even though I wanted to do exactly that *very* badly.  I felt

she should take each step, make each decision for herself.  I assumed she

had no hymen and therefore no blood to worry about in the pool; few girls

did since the invention of tampons.

  I realized both of us were holding our breaths and I wondered for a

moment if this impasse would continue until she or I passed out from lack

of oxygen.  Philly was staring down at the surface of the water, just

below which our bodies were poised for fusion.  I was watching her face. 

Then she lifted her gaze and looked steadily into my eyes with a little

smile as she let out her breath, took another, and lowered herself

smoothly onto my penis.   I was vaguely aware of a few other inhabitants of

the jacuzzi watching us with interest, as we had watched them, but mostly

I was oblivious to anything other than the deliciously snug fit Philly and

I made.  I held her hips and pushed myself into her as far as I could.

  She unhooked her ankles and spread her knees far apart, then leaned

back and let the water and my hands buoy her up; her groin was only two or

three inches below the surface and her shallow breasts were like two

floating islands.  Her hair, wet for the first time since she entered the

pool, clung to her neck and made her seem even younger.  Her pubic hair

was so light in color and still so sparse, her pussy appeared bare --

almost pre-adolescent.  I found that especially exciting; I knew quite

well my own tastes in women.   I scooped up this enticing creature in the

palms of my hands and pressed her body against mine again.  I had to

struggle to control my passion and remain gentle with her.  I held her ass

and squeezed her cheeks.  She responded by grinding her crotch even harder

against mine and whimpering in her throat.  I would have thought it

impossible for a guy to become so aroused under water, especially in a

jacuzzi, but I was already climbing toward orgasm and I hadn't even begun

moving within her.  I didn't want to embarrass myself by coming before a

barely-16-year-old beauty was ready for *her* first real climax!

  "Philly, slow down!  You're making me crazy, but we want this to last. 

My God, you're beautiful!"  And she really was.  She might be an

ordinary-pretty girl in the hall at school, but right here, right now, she

was Aphrodite, a goddess of physical love, a supple young body lacking in

experience but anxious to learn.  She was filling up with the honest lust

of young innocence and her radiance energy produced responses in my body

that I hadn't experienced since my own teen years.  Philly was

unintentionally working wonders on me.

  We began fucking in earnest at the same moment, pushing in and partly

withdrawing in unison.  We started slow and gradually increased the tempo,

trying not to be too obvious to our neighbors in the pool.  But there

could be no doubt in anyone's mind what was happening in our corner of the

bench.  Our arms were wrapped around each other's bodies, our lips moved

feverishly, and our bellies produced a rhythmic slapping sound as they

came together again and again.  Finally, Philly simply hung onto my neck,

face buried in my shoulder, making small mewing and moaning noises.  I

knew she was on the brink when she dug her fingers into the back of my

neck and breathlessly whispered "Oh, God...!"

  And that was enough to put us both over.  I tried to control myself but

I couldn't help jerking a few times as I shot my load far up into her

body.  I felt an instant of guilt for not pulling out -- what if she

became pregnant? -- but I could not have stopped at that point even if

someone had stuck a pistol in my face.

  For the first and only time in my life, I actually felt the orgasm

rippling up and down the walls of her vagina.  Philly held her breath and

clutched at me tightly and rigidly for perhaps thirty seconds.  Then she

went boneless and sighed deeply.  Her cunt was so snug, my cock didn't

have room to shrink.  I also wondered if there would be a second round and

I wanted to hold my position a little while longer.

  I lifted Philly's chin and kissed her very gently as she twisted her

fingers in the hair at the back of my head.  "That was completely

fantastic!" she sighed softly.  "I'm so glad it was you, Sam, and not one

of those grabby boys."  She leaned back so she could look deep into my

eyes.  "I'll never forget this evening, Sam, not ever!"

  "No one *ever* forgets their first time, Philly -- but this was special

for me, too.  You're really a sweetheart, do you know that?"  I kissed her

a few more times, lightly.  "Whatever boy you finally fall in love with is

going to be very, very lucky...."

  She smiled in a way that suggested she had just discovered a new world. 

Then she clenched her vaginal muscles and my cock twitched.  "Sam, you

know, I'm here with two girlfriends,... and I don't *have* to stay in the

room with them tonight.  I could spend the night with *you*...."  She

raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  I had a couple of roommates sharing expenses, too, but these things

could be arranged (and had been, numerous times before).  This marvelous

young thing was offering herself to me for the night.  My imagination

raced ahead.  I saw myself burying my face in her damp cunt.  I saw my

cock disappearing into her mouth and down her throat.  I saw myself

nailing her to the wall in the shower, as she hung on and ricocheted

through another orgasm.  God, the things I could teach her!

  Then, against my will, I also saw a fearful expression on her pretty

face as she tried to accommodate the variety of sexual encounters I

envisioned.  I heard her voice sobbing in my head: "Sam, I'm only barely

16 and I was a virgin until a few hours ago!  I'm not *ready* for all of

this!"  My conscience was going to spoil my night of lust gloriously

fulfilled -- I could tell.

  I took a deep breath and spoke softly into her ear as I stroked her

back.  "Philly,... sweetheart, that might not be a good idea.  I would

*love* to spend the whole night with you -- hell, I'd like to spend a

*week* in bed with you!  But you're 16 and you've just los--, just given

me your virginity.  Your emotions and your hormones are in control right

now and I can't allow myself to take advantage of you like that."  Philly

wasn't moving a muscle.  She just sat in my lap, her tight little pussy

still filled with my cock, and gazed into my eyes without blinking.

  "Philly, there's so *much* I'd like to teach you about sex, it scares

me a little.  I'd be rushing you much faster than you ought to go."  She

blinked several times and bit her lower lip -- and I did *not* want her to

feel in any way rejected.

  "Sweetheart, I know *exactly* what I'm passing up.  A whole night with

you could be fantastic for both of us ... but I don't think you'd feel the

same way a few days or a month from now.  I really don't.  I'd feel I had

... well, raped you of your youth and inexperience.  And I'm afraid you'd

start to feel the same way."

  Her gaze had faltered and I lifted her chin again with a fingertip.  "I

will *not* do anything that could hurt you, Philly.  Or anything that

might make *you* feel you had been hurt.  We met right here and I think

it's better that we part right here.  You've learned the best and most

important thing about sex.  I don't think it would be fair to you to teach

you anything more just yet."

  I felt a pang; her expression had become sad.  But she nodded slowly

and gave me the gift of a small, sweet smile.  She understood that I

wasn't trying to get rid of her, that was the most important thing -- that

I really was giving up what my body was clamoring for, in favor of what I

thought was best for her.

  She put her hands on my shoulders and squeezed as she slowly lifted her

body off mine.  We stood in the waist-deep water and she melted into my

arms in a close, affectionate embrace.  Then she lifted her face and

kissed me so thoroughly I felt my toes curl.

  "My first lover,..." she whispered.  "My very first, and I'm so glad it

was you, Sam."  There were small tears at the corners of her eyes.  Or

maybe it was just the steam.

  What I said just before we parted was probably stupid and certainly

ridiculous, but I had to say it anyway: "Philly, I do love you."  Her

mouth trembled as she touched my cheek with her hand.  "I know you do." 

                             *  *  *  *  *

  I walked her toward the steps of the jacuzzi, our arms about each

other.  She hugged me for the last time and kissed me very lightly on the

lips, and then she was hurrying up the steps, shivering in the breeze.  I

suddenly realized, as I watched her long legs and firm little ass, that

our entire encounter had been at least partly under water.  I wasn't sure

I had ever even seen her feet.

  For a long moment, I looked at that vibrant young body moving among the

other bodies on the pool deck, heading for wherever she had stashed her

clothing -- what would she have worn? I wondered -- and I came within a

heartbeat of rushing after her.  But common sense -- and

self-preservation, probably -- closed in and I turned quickly away and

moved back out of Philly's view.  I didn't want her to turn around and

find me staring after her.  I started back to the end of the bench but

then changed my mind and moved over to the far wall, near one of the hot

water jets.  I crouched down morosely in front of it for another thirty

minutes before I was finally able to haul myself out of the hot pool.  I

toweled off with my tee-shirt, pulled on my pants and shoes, and made my

way back to my room.  It was just after 2:00 in the morning.  A four-hour

affair, more or less, and from first meeting to final parting we had both

been naked.  A strange encounter indeed. 

  I kept an eye out for Philly for the remaining two days of WorldCon,

though I never actually expected to see her among the nearly 5,000

attendees.  I never saw her again, that weekend or later.  I never knew

her last name, or even what state she lived in.  She'd be thirty years old

now, probably married, perhaps with children.  I hope she's happy; she

deserves to be.  And I hope she found her "right guy," because she

deserves that, too.  Sometimes I see a pretty teenager with strawberry

blonde hair at the mall who reminds me of Philly and I'll think about that

short, steamy evening.  And I also hope she sometimes pauses and thinks of

me.  Of her first lover.


Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere

for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.



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