Erotic
2006-01-16

    Some of you might remember reading an earlier story - "Way Outside the Curriculum. " It, like it's sequel, "Outside the Curriculum: Learning Made Easy," was written with the kind help of Peter_Pan, who I'm sure many of you must know!
    Even before then I had emailed PP heaps of times, telling him how much I enjoyed his stories (God, if my father knew I read stuff like that!) and that I wished I could write like him. We became fairly regular correspondents and after I submitted the first "Curriculum" he offered to help me with the sequel too.
    After deciding I wanted to be a journalist, I enrolled at La Trobe University here in Melbourne, studying for a Communications Degree. I have stayed in touch with PP since (he helps me with writing assignments) and it was only just after Christmas that he asked me "Did I ever get up to Sydney at all?" The truth is, I hardly ever do - except occasionally to see my uncle when we all drive up there as a family. They don't live that far from PP as it happens. Anyway, I wrote back saying "What made you ask that?"
    When he replied that he would like to have met me and maybe have a coffee somewhere, inexplicably I blushed reading it. Something inside me wanted suddenly to meet him. Wasn't anything sexual or even that I felt like another dumb author-groupie. . . I just knew I had to see him.
    Although I've just turned twenty now, I suppose you could say I have led a sheltered life - maybe that's why I click on sites like this, haha! I have only ever had a couple of boyfriends and neither were what you might call "serious. " I lost my virginity to one of them but it was no big deal - the fat lady most definitely failed to make it on stage. I was only eighteen then and I remember being so bitterly disappointed by it all.
    So taking a pretty big risk I suppose, I emailed PP a week or so later and made like I was coming up to Sydney with some friends the following week and that I would have several hours to spare if he still wanted to meet me.

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   This was just over a week ago now. I had of course to tell my parents the same lie. . . . . that I was flying up to Sydney for the day with some friends. We are still on holidays from Uni so mum and dad didn't really think too much about it luckily. Dad just said to call him on my cell-phone and he would pick me up from Tullamarine whatever time the plane landed back in Melbourne.
    I was so excited. PP arranged to meet me at Alexander's - a well-known wine and coffee bar in the center of Sydney - right opposite the Town Hall, only a fifteen minute cab ride from Sydney domestic terminal itself. I had his picture of course and he told me exactly where he'd be and what he'd be wearing. It was pretty easy finding him.
    How do I describe Peter_Pan? Let's see - he was a bit shorter than I expected for some reason - about five-ten or so I guess, and although having not that much hair now, was nowhere near bald, and looked nothing like a fifty-something year old should - nearer a guy in his middle to late forties. Something about him still reminded me of a little boy.

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   He didn't talk, think or act like a way older man - the name "Peter_Pan" so suits him, although as you probably all know - his real name is Noel. He has a really kind and interesting face, nice hazel eyes, and if I had to describe in one word what my first impression of him was - it's "safe. " I can imagine girls have fallen in love with him all his life!
    He has a really educated accent - not so much British (which I know he is) as just un-Australian somehow. He has travelled a great deal and it comes through when he speaks. Actually it would be true to say - he talks like he writes. He's very charismatic and so easy to listen too and be with.
    When I got there, he gave me a big hug (he's not a small guy!) and sat me down at the far end of the coffee lounge in a private niche. I must have seemed like a doped-up teenager - not really sure what to say without appearing overly childish. He made me feel totally at ease though and we talked for almost two hours. He's one of those people who likes to maintain eye contact and you don't find him trying to look you over or peer down your top - not that I have much there to peer at!
    We chatted about so many things. . . . . his life, how he became a writer (You wouldn't believe the things he's done - everything from driving a truck to acting, fire-fighting, real estate and teaching!) By the time we got on to University and my hopes of being a journalist (oddly - both he and his ex-wife were one) I felt like I'd known him all my life - cliché that this sounds I realise.

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    I'm not sure now what prompted him to ask me if I'd like to have a few hours "in private" before I had to catch the plane home but I do remember saying to him "I'd love to," without the slightest hesitation. He then took my hand and we walked a block and a half to the Centerpoint complex where I didn't even think it strange when he walked up to the reservations desk at the Hilton there, and booked a suite upstairs. He just smiled at me and I trusted him.
    I've been sitting here thinking for a while now, wondering just how to explain to you what happened during those next few hours.

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PP could do it so easily. Any way I put it, it's going to make either me sound stupid or him grotty, and nothing could be further from the truth.
    I'm just going to write it as I remember it!
    Before anything, he ordered a plate of sandwiches and some wine. While we waited for those to be brought up, we sat side by side at a rather stylish round glass table overlooking Castlereagh Street and just about finished the day's Su-Do-Ku puzzle. . . . him doing 80% of it.
    The wine of course made me feel flirty and I began wondering what it would be like to kiss PP or better still to be kissed by him. Looking at me as he was right that moment, I'm sure he picked up something from my body-language. He just observed me in that warm and inviting way that he does, and then simply patted his knee.

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   As if totally rehearsed, I went across to his chair and sat demurely in his lap. I must admit, I wasn't feeling overly demure right at that moment.
    His gentle kiss made me blush, it was definitely not the kiss of a man long past middle age or of one who didn't have much of a clue what he was doing. The next kiss was longer and as his arm encircled my waist. . . again I felt so safe and protected. He told me I was very pretty - a fact I have to say, that the mirrors at home have never been able to convince me of. Still, what girl doesn't want to hear words such as those?
    I had on just a simple cotton dress - it's mid summer in Australia currently with temperatures in the high 30's to low 40's most days. . . and that's centigrade! I couldn't help shuffling about on his lap - I think he must have thought I was restless or something, because he nodded towards the bed and asked me "Might you be more comfortable on the covers?" It was like him asking me about going to a private room - I didn't even think to say "no. " I just nodded. Had I after all planned all this subconsciously, before I even left Melbourne?
    Well it was certainly more comfortable - especially when he lay me back against the pillow and kissed my lips again. I could feel myself just letting go.

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   I knew I would be fine with him whatever happened and now, it was my turn to smile.
    As he began to kiss my neck and then - so tenderly - a spot only a few inches above my right breast, I knew how all those girls, both at Harper Valley and in his other stories, must have felt. It all seemed so unreal, and as I wriggled slightly, he kissed my actual breast. I was unable to suppress a slight gasp of pleasure
   "This just can't be happening" I was thinking to myself - it's simply another Peter_Pan story. I could almost read the words in my mind, even as I shivered beneath his gentle caresses. I love my hair being played with (I'm a honey-blonde btw, just not a dumb one) and all the time he was kissing me, he would run his fingers gently through it. Funny really, but all the time I was with him, I never once seemed conscious of his being so much older, although I do have to say, PP comes across as the "father" every girl wishes they could have had. How lucky are his kids?
    It wasn't until he actually undid the top few buttons of my dress that I felt any sort of doubt as to what I was doing. Didn't last long though. As he exposed my small bra (I'm still only a 32B) and then kissed me either side of the clasp, I knew beyond doubt that this was what I wanted. I think he knew that too! Maybe because I was a bit embarrassed, but I remember apologising for being small to which he replied, "You are beautiful Kimberley, and anyway, smaller breasts are way sexier. " . . . .

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  I almost believed him!
    Unhooking the bra, he exposed me fully and I felt myself tensing up. I couldn't fail to notice though that my nipples were now soo erect. As he started kissing both breasts and teasing my areolae with the tip of his tongue I am sure any girls reading this will understand exactly what I mean, when I say that all the nerve endings in my pussy, were suddenly on red-alert and tingling from what he was doing to me.
    Wearing just three items (bra, panties and dress) didn't exactly provide much back-up in the modesty stakes - especially when PP slipped is hand up between my knees and began feeling his way cautiously along the inside of my thigh. I was experiencing so many different sensations at that stage, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to spread my legs more or close them up. Pan made up my mind for me by gently pulling my dress up to my waist. I'm not sure that the sudden exposure of my thin cotton panties was more arousing for him or me? Either way I remember thinking "Well there's really not too much point pretending to be the innocent little virgin now, is there?" and I allowed him to part my legs further.
    He just looked at me for a moment - in my eyes, nowhere else, and I could feel his gentility and his respect. It made me cry almost.
   "We'd maybe better take this off?" he whispered, indicating my dress - "before it gets too creased," he added, grinning.
    Things were getting serious. Just in my panties now (having removed my bra, seeing as it wasn't serving any useful purpose at that stage) he had me lie on my tummy which felt soo vulnerable and sexy. Massaging my shoulders firmly but gently, he began kissing his way down my spine until he reached the small of my back. I know I must have been wriggling all over the place by then, but he so knew what he was doing.
    When he took a hold of the elastic and began pulling my panties down a fraction I turned chicken and began shaking my head.

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. . the complete opposite of what I wanted! He said nothing, merely lowering his head and kissing me at the very beginning of the curve of my bottom. That did it. . . . I let out a little yelp of surprise and I'm sure - wriggled my bottom slightly, just for his benefit.
    It was to benefit me too of course!
   Turning me back over, I instinctively covered my pussy as he tugged my panties down and off, but he took my hands and just raised them over my head. I felt so open and 'submissive' I suppose is the word - but overriding everything, I wanted him to see me naked and more than anything I desired his touch and his affection. He gave me both and this was something I had never experienced. He was the ultimate teacher!
    Still dressed himself, not that I was giving that fact any great attention, he simply knelt between my legs and kissed me firmly on my now quite wet pussy. My hips wanted to thrust up towards him, but I managed to control the urge. I think I was whimpering though and making lots of little noises as he continued nuzzling me down there.

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   Whether he spread my legs or I did it myself, I really can't remember, but when I felt his tongue gently separating my labia and then flicking across my clitoris I simply could not control my emotions any more.
    Letting out a small cry of extreme pleasure, I spread my legs wider and allowed him the access he craved and that which I needed! I must be honest, in the past, neither boyfriend even tried getting to first base with me sexually. It was just a case of "in-out" a few times and then "That was great Kimberley. " I'm sure many of you girls can identify with that one!
    The orgasm he quickly brought me to was like nothing I had ever experienced. So intense was it, I just gasped and clung to him, allowing the incredible sensations to take my body wherever they had a mind to go. It was almost a disappointment to return to reality.
    I know I was breathing hard and just for the moment unsure of where I wanted to go from here. Well that's a lie - I knew exactly where I wanted PP to go - it was more a case of someone simply making the first move. . . after all, I had no clothes on. . . . that must have been giving him some ideas!
   "Are you quite comfortable with all this Kimberley?" he asked me suddenly.

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   It sounded so chivalrous I almost laughed, but instead I just nodded and put my face up for him to kiss me - which he did. Definitely no father-daughter relationship developing here, although recalling to mind what I've read about at Harper Valley, who knows?
   PP finally discarded his jeans and top and while I have to be brutally honest and admit that no trace of any six-pack remained - his physique, though showing obvious signs of middle-age was nothing to be ashamed of believe me. I've seen guys in their late twenties and thirties at St Kilda beach in Melbourne in way worse shape. Still quite muscular, only a slight paunch was noticeable and with no trace of a beer-belly most guys that old carry. He didn't appear to be in the least embarrassed by undressing in front of me and I found that rather sexy too.
    We just slipped under the covers and he pulled me on top of him and began kissing me. With his hands cupping my bottom I loved the feel of my breasts as they made contact with his chest. Freeing up a hand, he began to fondle my nipples which made me hotter by the moment. I could feel his erection swelling beneath my pussy and there was no need to ask the question.
    It took little re-adjustment of our bodies before the head of his penis was flush up against my very wet "slit" for lack of a better word ("Vagina" sounds overly clinical sometimes!) I was just so wet he was able to slip it in to me with barely any upward movement. He would have known now quite obviously, that I was not a virgin and for absolutely no reason, I suddenly wished desperately, that I could have been one still for him. Given the very limited sexual action I have ever seen though. . . .

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  I really think I only lost it by a technicality. Anyway. being the complete gentleman, he said nothing of course, simply setting up the most wonderful of rhythms inside me that had me moaning softly in seconds. I usually hate it when I read about girls doing that but I couldn't help it. He was driving me crazy.
    All I could think of was Larissa, Michelle, Brianna, Rhiannon and all the rest of them. If it had been even half this good for them, how they must have all looked forward to each successive party?
    Peter_Pan makes love to you. . . . . he doesn't fuck girls. This I think is what separates him from the average male partner who simply is wanting to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible. I could sense he was about to cum and although ready, was not prepared for the incredible orgasm that overtook me right as he did so. I could do nothing but lie there clinging on to him as he just kept pumping it all into me.

 

   Crazy as it sounds, I had an overpowering urge to become pregnant to him, impossible as that might be, given that I have been on the pill for more than eighteen months now.
    We stayed in that bed for another hour or so doing nothing but talking. I lay against him as he cupped my breasts, nuzzled my neck, just making me feel so special and wanted. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. We could easily have spent the time in lustful enjoyment but both of us knew that wasn't what was called for here.
    I did regret so much having to get dressed later, although having a shower together beforehand was quite beautiful. He soaped me up like a little girl and was so gentle - washing my hair for me and then drying it off on the bed while I just sat there naked. I felt twelve again.
    I had truly found Neverland.
**
    PP saw me to the outer departure lounge that evening and by simply saying to me as they finally announced boarding, "Thank you Kimberley. I just want you to know I have never experienced a happier five hours in my life," I knew I would never know anyone like him again. We kissed that last time.
    There were so many tears in my eyes as I walked along the air-bridge.
   
    Peter_Pan's website is.