The Velvet Glove

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I’d been seeing Carla for almost three years. It was a fading romance, with the emphasis on fading, rather than romance. A year of separate colleges hadn’t done anything to pull us back together after the fading started in our last year of high school. I’d looked forward to the Memorial Day holiday as we’d both be home and maybe things would be better. In hindsight, looking forward to spending time with Carla and rejuvenating our relationship was optimistic of me.

We’d gone out for a reunion dinner on the Friday night and while it was pleasant, the spark still wasn’t there and I didn’t even try to prolong the evening by inviting her to visit to my bedroom. We’d made a tentative arrangement to meet up Sunday and planned to spend Saturday with our families. it was hard to figure what had gone wrong as we still liked each other and cared about each other, but the excitement that keeps a young relationship fired up was absent with no recent sightings. It seemed like all we needed for one of us to be brave enough to stop the agony.

I didn’t rush over to Carla’s house early Sunday. There seemed little point and I didn’t know what we were going to do anyway. Her car was there when I pulled into the driveway just after lunch, so I expected her to be at home but I think that if no one had answered the door I would have been relieved. There was movement inside though and Kristi, Carla’s older sister, opened the door, held back their golden retriever and let me in.

“She’s not here.” Kristi hugged me. It had been a few months since I’d seen her. “They all went out to look at a house dad is thinking of buying up by the lake. She didn’t say you were coming around.”

I screwed up my nose and tried not to show either relief or disappointment. “It’s okay, we didn’t have a firm plan.”

Kristi walked through to the kitchen, obviously expecting me to follow. “Well, come in. Least you can do is have some coffee.”

She had long flowing brown hair that ran down her back and a muscular body that made her clothes bulge without looking like any of it was fat. Kristi was on a softball scholarship, had played at state level in high school and while she’d always looked great, she was the family jock. Her jeans always seemed to be tighter than medically recommended and it took all of her sports bra’s strength to keep her figure under control. I liked Kristi, despite the high school rumors, as she’d always been fun to be with and seemed to be a genuine person.

I sat at the counter while she bustled around fixing coffee for us. I laughed at her jokes about no longer knowing where things were in her own house and enjoyed the bright smile she always seemed to have on her face.

“So,’ she finally started pouring, “what’s new with you? Will I be getting a wedding invite soon? Carla’s been very coy lately.”

I gave a half-laugh and answered, “I don’t think you need to worry about buying a new dress right now.” Again, I tried not to give a facial expression that could be misinterpreted but Kristi didn’t need the visual cue.

She looked at me for a few seconds and simply said. “I wondered.” Kristi sighed knowingly and pushed my cup over to me. “Well, stuff happens.”

She left the topic of Carla and me at that point and asked me all about my first year at college. I enjoyed sharing the ups and downs of a freshman with her. She’d become more academic that year, matter-of-factly noting that she’d finally acknowledged that a degree would be more help to her after college than winning a few more softball games. It seemed that she’d grown up without me noticing until then.

The phone rang and she excused herself, taking the call in the lounge rather than in front of me. When she came back she announced that the call was from her mother and that the real estate agent had let them down and couldn’t show the house until five that afternoon, so they would be staying up there for dinner. “Apparently there’s some leftover pasta in the refrigerator that I can have.” She mimicked her mother’s voice, rolling her eyes to show a mixture of mirth and contempt.

“You want to get a pizza?” I made the offer. I’d planned on having dinner with Carla and wouldn’t be expected home.

“Sure.” Kristi didn’t pause to consider the offer and grabbed her car keys. “I’ll pick up the pieces for my sister… who’s obviously stood you up.” She playfully punched the top of my arm.

“I don’t need charity,” I joked.

Kristi stopped and looked back at me, letting her eyes appraise me from head to toe. “Yes you do,” she said, then turned and led the way out.

On the drive into town we decided on Chinese instead of pizza and when we were settled in the restaurant and had ordered Kristi offered, “You don’t have to talk to me about you and Carla, but you can if you want.”

I thought about the offer and declined. I’d got to the point that it seemed pointless and more pain to continue than end. We veered off into small-town small-talk through appetizers and by the time our entrees arrived Kristi was reminiscing canlı bahis şirketleri about her high school days.

As she started to tall me anecdotes about old boyfriends I felt a tightening knot in my belly. I’d known about the rumors for years, been intrigued and excited by them and wondered now if I could ask her how true they were. I might never get a better chance and, as I watched her face as she told me about a disastrous date that ended up with her walking ten miles to get home and figured, I had nothing to loose.

“People still talked about you at high school, long after you’d left,” I ventured.

Kristi’s face took a slightly puzzled look and she assumed I was talking about her athletic abilities. “You mean how I lost the state finals because I dropped that catch?”

“No.” I spoke solemnly, knowing I’d committed to the question now.

“What then?” she appealed, completely open and not obviously hiding any skeletons.

I took a deep breath and felt the tingle of anticipation as I steeled myself. After another look into Kristi’s eyes, just to be sure I wanted to open the box, I told her, “Something about gloves? Silk Gloves?”

Her face ran through four emotions in about two seconds—shock, fun, confusion and trepidation. She settled on an uncomfortable smile. “I should’ve figured they’d talk about that.” The giggle she made was all nerves.

I hadn’t meant to put her so ill at ease, and tried to retreat. “It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “It’s not like it’s a huge deal. Well, not for me anyway.”

I waited, not knowing what else I could say. Kristi took along drink of her soda before she came clean.

“Firstly, it wasn’t gloves, it was glove.” She smiled and took another deep breath. “Secondly it was velvet, not silk.”

So, there it was. The rumor was technically incorrect, but substantiated. My heart was pounding. Kristi was reputed to have given many boys at school handjobs while wearing her velvet glove. I’d heard various estimates of between thirty and a hundred boys. Because of my association with Carla I’d been asked many times if the stories were true and while I’d dismissed the enquiries, I’d also been interested to know the truth, and why.

Now I was silenced by her admission.

“What did they say I did with it?” It was a forlorn request, almost like she held some hope that her use of the glove hadn’t carried with the fact that it existed.

“That you…” I stumbled over the words, “masturbated them.”

Her face took on a resigned look and Kristi asked about the extent of the rumor. I assured her it had almost died by the time I’d left school. I felt bad having brought the topic up and now I wanted to quash it… but I also wanted know more.

“So…” I ventured, “can I ask why? What was the whole glove thing about?”

Kristi shook her head and sighed. “It was just me being rebellious, kind of, I think. I’d always been fascinated by… penises. It was a little girl thing really. I wanted to hold them and play with them, but I didn’t want to have sex with a load of boys. No, it doesn’t make any sense to me now, but back then I had this idea that if I wore a glove and avoided skin contact, it somehow removed me from the sexual act that I performed for them so that they’d let me hold their… dicks.”

I tried to make sense of the logic and failed. Kristi saw that and added. “After that it just became kind of a quest, to jack off boys, all with the same glove. It wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did, but the glove kind of normalized it for me and I have to say… it was fun and exciting at the time. I didn’t have many complaints from the… subjects.”

“And you just… did them? When they asked you?”

“Some did,” she considered. “I asked others. Some we just kind of arrived at the situation mutually. I discovered that boys were pretty easy to get out of their pants.”

I was feeling braver now that she’d been so open. “I heard that you… did one boy in class.”

Kristi laughed. “That’s definitely not true. I had a few trips into the boys’ washrooms, but never in a class. Mostly I’d go to their bedrooms, or in their cars. There wasn’t a lot of planning involved. I stopped when it started to get out of…” she laughed, “hand. It seemed like the secret just got out and everyone knew. It was hard to live down for a year, but that was my own stupid fault.”

“I’m sure there are girls who’ve dome worse.” I tried to sympathize.

“Oh yes,” she agreed. “But I seem to still be living it down… if people are still asking me about it.”

I still felt a little guilty for having brought the subject up, but at the same time I’d enjoyed the discussion and was feeling aroused at the images Kristi relayed. “I’m sorry,” I grimaced, “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” she assured me. “Like I said, it’s my own stupid fault.”

“I still have the glove somewhere.” She spoke with vague expression now. “Don’t know why I never threw it canlı kaçak iddaa away. I guess it just kind of held… a lot of memories.”

We dropped the subject at that, probably both a little relieved. I admired Kristi for being so honest about the glove. It would have been easy enough to deny, but she was open enough to quell my curiosity on the rumors. The exchange was exciting for sure, thinking about those guys getting off for her, but I decided that enough was enough and we headed back to her parents’ house talking about TV shows.

When we pulled into the driveway I began to thank Kristi for her company but before I’d got a chance to say anything she motioned that I should follow her inside. She said nothing as I walked into the kitchen and she disappeared upstairs. “Get a couple of beers out will you?” she called.

I’d found the beer and was pulling the bottles open when she came back. Her face wore the biggest smirk I’d ever seen. “Here,” she handed me a small black object, “I thought you might like to see the legendary glove.”

I pulled open the velvet material to reveal a plain glove that looked barely big enough to cover Kristi’s hand. I turned it over a few times, as though examining an ancient artifact. It was in remarkably good shape considering the action it had seen. I said as much to Kristi, accompanied by nervous laughter.

“I washed it… between assignments.” She laughed and took the glove back from me. “Yes, I guess it occasionally did get pretty messed up. Ah… the stories this glove could tell.” She pulled the glove on, made a few quick stroking movements with her clenched fist and giggled. “I’m surprised it doesn’t have holes all over, from the wear and tear. I kept a list somewhere, of all their names, but that’s long gone now. Probably just as well, protect the guilty.”

Kristi pulled off the glove and stuffed it in her pocket. She reached out for the beer I’d opened for her and took a relieved mouthful straight from the neck.

“At least it didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage,” I observed, trying to lighten the air.

“No. But I got to hold a whole lot of cocks. That sure was fun.”

“I think it’s hot.” I tried to sound casual but heard the strain in my voice.

Kristi puzzled. “Hot that I did that, or the thought of having that done is hot?”

“Both I guess.” The atmosphere had changed suddenly. We were no longer making light of things. This felt more like testing the temperature of the water between us.

“You mean that…” Kristi considered her words, her eyes not leaving mine now, “you would’ve liked to have been one of my…”

“Victims?” I tried to laugh.

“…boys?” She stared at me, waiting for her answer.

I took a deep breath and pondered the merits of the truth. This was my girlfriend’s sister after all and we were talking about her not-so-secret recreational masturbation of multiple boys. In the end I had no option and said, “Of course I would. Why do you think I’ve been so interested in the rumor all this time, it’s hot… a fantasy.”

“A no-strings-attached handjob?”

“From a sexy girl wearing a velvet glove.”

Kristi took another drink and pulled the glove from her pocket. “It’s been a couple of years,” she said wistfully, “but if you want to give it a try… I guess that would settle most of your curiosity.”

When she looked up at me I expected a smirk, or a cocky smile, but all I got was a neutral look. Kristi was leaving the final word up to me.

“Can we stay friends afterwards?” I asked innocently. “You are Carla’s sister after all.”

Kristi nodded. “She doesn’t have to know. Like I said, and have done many times, we’re talking about a no-strings-attached handjob.”

“I want to know how good you are… after all that practice.”

Now a broad smile spread across her face. “Come on then stud.” She lifted her beer and started back towards the stairs. I grabbed my beer, adjusted the erection that had sprouted in my pants and followed obediently.

When we got to her bedroom she motioned that I sit on the bed. “Your choice, you can take them off, or just unzip. You don’t get a choice about lube. The glove is soft and you won’t need any.” She pulled the glove onto her right hand, stretching it down her wrist. “Come on then.”

I figured that if I was going to get my cock out for her I might as well allow full access, so I quickly undid my pants and pulled them away. I was hard, of course, and even though my t-shirt fell down to my hips, it rested behind my erection and I was exposed to Kristi’s gaze. She raised an eyebrow and motioned that I should sit on the bed. She got onto her knees in front of me, pushed my legs apart and reached for my cock.

“This is nice,” she noted as her gloved fingers closed around me. “You have a nice cock here. I’d rate it… in my top twenty I guess, so far, on aesthetics. You could make the top ten, based on your performance rating.” There was a jovial air in her voice, but I took her at face value. She pulled her canlı kaçak bahis hand firmly down over me a few times, not making upwards strokes, just running the smooth velvet over my length and making the skin smooth and soft. “I hope I haven’t lost my touch.”

“I don’t think you have.” I looked down to see her fingers grasping me and starting to stroke more rhythmically. I’d never been under any illusions about the size of my cock—big enough, but not huge—and was glad that Kristi refrained from detailed comparison.

I sat back a little and leant on my arms while she worked on me. The softness of the glove’s texture allowed her to grip hard, but still feel soft and it struck me that this felt more like the inside of a pussy than a hand. Kristi looked up to see if I was enjoying it so far and I smiled down. Here eyes were wide and she now seemed to me more into the experience than I’d expected.

“I didn’t know anything about giving a good handjob when I did the first one.” She looked back at my cock while she spoke. “I learned pretty quickly after that I guess. I managed to make every one of them come.”

I gave a small laugh and commented that I wasn’t surprised. Kristi’s grip was still firm and she had pulled a slight downward angle on my cock. I was already feeling good and all the signs were that I was headed for a sizable eruption.

Our conversation died as she concentrated on her work, seemingly in tune with my body’s reactions. Her eyes didn’t leave my cock as she varied her pace and length of stroke. I couldn’t stop looking down at her gloved hand and the way it moved on me, bringing pleasure and pulling my balls up into my body as they tightened with the rising excitement. Kristi pulled down hard on my shaft, stretching the skin all the way up my cock and making the head bulge.

“These days I’d use my other hand as well, or maybe my mouth,” she told me, “but I won’t, so you get the full experience. I hope that’s okay for you?”

It was probably an invitation for more, but at that moment I didn’t care what she did as long as she kept stroking and let me come. Thankfully, she did. My breathing deepened as she gripped harder, pulled down slower and twisted her hand as she pulled up. I felt like I was on the brink of coming for minutes, and then the build up of sensations started to work up the muscles in my legs towards my primed-for-action balls.

The hot hurricane of orgasm hit my body in a powerful, pulsing wave. Kristi continued to pump, knowing I was coming. She squeezed hard with every stroke and didn’t miss a beat, even when my come streamed from the end of my cock. She held me straight up and pulse after pulse of white shot up and splashed down. My legs shook involuntarily as the climax subsided and I looked down to see Kristi finishing her stroking. The glove was now covered in come.

“Well,” Kristi eased the glove off, pulling it inside out, and placed it on her bedside table, “that brought back a few memories. Your thoughts, now that you’ve felt the glove in action?”

I fell back onto the bed and looked up. “Very, very good.”

“I’d forgotten how exciting it was, with someone you didn’t expect.” Kristi slumped back next to me. “I was getting quite worked up myself there.”

I said nothing, but instinctively reached across to place my hand on the front of her jeans. When there was no resistance, I looked over to her and pushed my and lower. She felt hot between her legs. Kristi’s face turned to mine. “If you keep doing that… you’d better get hard again real quick.”

We both glanced down at my semi-hard cock and watched as it twitched towards the ceiling. “You were saying?”

Kristi didn’t say anything, but she got up on the bed, straddled me and brought her face down to kiss me. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” she warned between long, deep kisses, “I’ve never done this with anyone after the glove before, ever. So don’t go spreading any new rumors.”

I pulled her shirt over her head, grinned and then set about unfastening her bra to set her breasts free. By the time my hands were pushing at her boobs and pulling on her nipples she had nothing more to say. Kristi wrestled my shirt over my head and reached around behind to stroke my cock with her bare hand while I played with her nipples. Her breasts were bigger than I’d expected and were swaying nicely to my touch. I figured they’d always been restrained when I saw her before. I wanted to get my hands on her pussy though, so I eased her off me and let her lie on the bed.

I was giggling with delight as I unzipped her jeans and started to pull them down her thighs. Her panties were white, with a little pink heart right where I wanted to put my cock.

“You look gorgeous,” I said to her, looking down at her with only the panties on.

“You’ve been pretty hot yourself today. All the time I was stroking you, I was thinking about what you’d feel like inside. Strange what a couple of years does for a girl.”

I slowly pulled away her panties and revealed a closely-cropped pubic area that lead down a short, glorious road to top of her pussy. All around her opening she was shaved, giving me the best of both worlds to look at and feel as I reached out and started to finger her. That was a job I would never want a glove for.

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