I gently pushed her tummy back down onto the bed, placed one hand on a tit and held my cock with the other, and slid into her. She was incredibly tight, and I could only get about half of my cock in her at first, though she was very wet. Even so, her eyes popped open and her mouth formed an "o" of suprise.

"Slow, slow, oh god, take it slow…" She was pushing at my chest with her hands, trying to get me to back out.

"What's wrong, Ann. You're not a virgin are you?" I was teasing her, but I also wanted to know.

"No," she said, talking between her panting breaths, "but I only did it once, a long time ago, and I'm not use to this."

"Randy?" I asked, and gave her two short strokes.

"Ahhhhhhhhng, um, no, it was back in junior high. You don't…. ummmmmm… know him."

"Gotta know, Ann. Who got your cherry?" I stroked her again, each time going fractionally deeper, and for several moments she did not reply, her eyes closed, her teeth chewing her lower lip.

"Uh, Stuart Dawes. Jesus, oh, ummmmmmmmmmm. But his dick was ha-half the size of yours, and… ohhhhhhhhhhh… it lasted about 20 seconds…"

I laughed a little, which made her look at my face. Stuart Dawes had been an aquaintance of mine in junior high, though I guess he had moved away since I had not seen him in high school. He had claimed to have fucked Ann Macafee after the CIF basketball finals, but no one had believed him.

Thanks for priming her, Stuart, I thought, and began to fuck her in earnest.

All protest from her ended as her pussy spread itself wide for me. She was holding onto her knees, spreading them as far as she could, and in ten smooth strokes I was buried in her cunt up to my balls. This was te best fuck of my life – she was so tight, so smooth, the internal contours of her pussy forming a perfect sheath for my hard dick, and we pumped like a german machine.