The Interview

When 14-year-old Pauline interviews her 24-year-old neighbor, Clark, for a sex education project, his candid and steamy answers unexpectedly get her aroused!

Part One

Pauline Spencer had been my neighbor from the moment she was born. Her family lived across the street from mine on a quiet street in suburban Illinois. I, Clark Carrington, was ten years old in 1976 when Pauline took her first breath. Since my parents were friends of the Spencers, I literally watched Pauline grow from her earliest days of infancy to maturing into a rather fetching teenage girl. I seldom talked to her, however. We didn’t seem to have much in common to discuss, given our age and gender differences.

Like Pauline, I was an only child who came along rather late in my parents’ lives. Mom was 34 when she gave birth to me. By the time I was in my early twenties, I had inherited my parents house as they had both died young. Mom succumbed to ovarian cancer first and Dad from heart issues about 18 months later. I had to learn to be a survivor—and I did. I sometimes struggled to make ends meet, but I always did. Hard work seemed to pay off. I wasn’t one to make excuses for failures or setbacks. I had inherited the strong, unshakable conservative social and political beliefs that my parents both possessed. They served me well.

One day in 1990, quite out of the blue, I got a telephone call from Pauline Spencer. She had never phoned me even once before in her 14 years. She was now a high school student. She explained that she had a major school project to do and that she needed to recruit several subjects from various age and gender demographics to be interviewed. My gender was obvious, and Pauline knew my approximate age, so I would do nicely. She wanted to know if she could come to my house and ask me a few questions. She didn’t mention the topic, but it didn’t matter to me. I was perfectly willing to field Pauline’s questions on any subject from archaeology to zoology. She thanked me in advance for participating. When I told her any time was fine, she asked if she could drop by immediately. When I said yes, Pauline said she’d be at my front door in ten minutes or so.

Part Two

I was seated on the couch, looking through my front window, so I saw Pauline exit her house with a clipboard in her hand and slowly make her way across the street to mine. She saw me through the window and happily waved at me. I did the same. I rose from where I was seated and opened the door. I immediately said hello to her.

“Hi, Clark!” she said enthusiastically. “I bet it’s been two years at least since I’ve been inside your house. It still looks the very same to me.”

“That would be about right,” I replied as I motioned for her to sit in a chair. “Dad was still living two years ago. He was fading fast, but he was still alive. Your whole family came by one day to see him while he still had the energy and mental focus to spend time with visitors.”

“Yeah,” she noted. “Time flies. It’s sad that you lost both your parents so soon. I don’t know if I could have handled something like that at your age.”

“Life goes on,” I uttered. It was merely for something to say before I redirected the conversation. I didn’t like dwelling on the unchangeable fact that I no longer had parents in my life. It saddened me. “What’s this interview all about, Pauline? You didn’t tell me its topic during our brief telephone call.”

Pauline paused for a moment and then said to, "This might come as a surprise to you; I'm in high school now, Clark. In my sex education class, I have a major project to do that counts for 40 percent of my total grade. All the students in my class had several options to choose from. I chose Option #4. As part of a report I’ll be writing, I have to interview eight different people, four males and four females, from certain age brackets, to find out their opinions on general human sexuality. You are 24, so you would perfectly fit the bill for the ‘male between 18 and 35 years old’ category. Are you willing to answer some questions on sexuality for me, Clark? It shouldn't take too long."

I chuckled and honestly said, "I wasn't expecting this topic, Pauline, but for the sake of your education, I'll happily oblige."

"Great...and thanks!" she exclaimed as she removed several sheets of premade questions from her clipboard. "Remember, Clark, you can freely refuse to answer any specific questions, or you can stop the interview entirely any time you like. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly!" I replied. "Fire away! What's the first thing you want to ask me about sex, Pauline?"

Pauline gave me a shy smile. "You seem quite eager, Clark," she commented. "That's a positive sign. Here's the first question I have for you: How old were you when you had your first sexual encounter with another person?"

"I take that to mean that jerking off doesn't count?" I asked the question sincerely, but I think Pauline thought I was being flippant.

"Yes, Clark," Pauline said with a slight, exasperated sigh. "That's what this question means. In this case, masturbation does not count as sexual contact."

"In that case, my answer would be age 12," I told her quickly. “I strongly believed in getting started young at this hobby!"

Pauline did not comment on my little joke. She continued onward with her questions. "And what was the age of your partner? You don't have to mention his or her name."

"His or her?" I said with astonishment. "Let's get something clarified right off the bat, Pauline. I'm as straight as an arrow. I don't engage in homosexuality. I never have and I never will. To me, it's wrong on so many levels."

"Some people don't think so," Pauline insisted. "They think it is perfectly normal."

"Those people are wrong, plain and simple" I said abruptly.

It occurred to me that my parents often said that Mr. and Mrs. Spencer held very left-of-center political and social views, thus I was not especially surprised that their only daughter had picked up on those. Dad used to joke that the Spencers’ lawn signs for candidates who were running in local elections "came via the Kremlin." In retrospect, it was amazing that my folks got along with Pauline's so splendidly. I expanded my answer: "Pauline, you can safely assume that any and all of my sexual partners throughout my 24 years on this planet have been female—without exception. When I had my first sexual experience, my partner’s name was Jill. She was 11."

That answer seemed to satisfy Pauline. She continued, "What prompted you and Jill to have sex at that young age?"

I laughed at the question's entire premise. "Looking back at that milestone day, I guess it was because I was a wildly horny 12-year-old. Jill lived nearby, just around the block from here. Frankly, the only appeal she had to me was that she was obviously pubescent, which caught my attention. Jill wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, which is putting it mildly, so I figured I could easily talk her into having a roll in the hay with me. I succeeded. Jeez, I liked playing with her titties and screwing her tight pussy. Sadly, I only lasted about two minutes before I came.” I looked at Pauline eye-to-eye and said, “There's absolutely nothing better than fucking a tight pussy. Any normal male will attest to that! Is that answer sufficient for you, Pauline?"

"I guess so," Pauline said. I could sense that my blunt answer had made her a bit uncomfortable--and I was silently enjoying making her squirm. She added, "What I was trying to drive at, Clark, was to learn if your urge to have sex at age 12 was biological rather than romantic. I'll accept ‘biological’ as your answer."

I laughed again. "Yes, you may, Pauline. I was not trying to romance Jill in the slightest. I was horny and wanted some pussy. It was basic human biology in its purest form."

“What do you find most desirable in your sex partners, Clark?” was Pauline’s next question to me.
I thought for a moment about how to respond. Then I said, “Pauline, I suppose it primarily depends on whether I just want to screw the female or if I want to possibly marry her. If I’m looking for a lifelong mate, I want someone who is clever, feminine, motherly, and is willing to take on traditional womanly roles in the household. However, if I just want someone to fuck, I’ll lean very heavily towards physical attractiveness. I don’t care at all if she is vapid, can’t cook, and has no intention of being a traditional wife and mother. I just want to enjoy the sensual pleasures of a good fuck with a sexy female. I’m very much a hedonist in this way—but so are 99 percent of the men I know.”

Pauline processed what I told her. “So, as far as you’re concerned, romance is only valuable if you are courting a girl you want to marry someday. Other than that, it is a waste of time. Is that a fair assessment of your philosophy, Clark.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s it in a nutshell,” I agreed. “I fuck for pleasure—both mine and the girl’s. I haven’t started fucking for procreation purposes because I’m not married and I have no ‘significant other’ in my life. I expect that day will come, though.”

I looked at Pauline’s face. I thought I saw beads of perspiration starting to form on her forehead. My house’s room temperature was on the cool side, so if Pauline was overheating, it was because of how she was responding to my answers.

“Next question,” Pauline said after taking another long breath. “When you engage in sex, Clark, do you put much or any emphasis on pleasing your partner or do you focus entirely on your own pleasure?"

“Now that really is a great question, Pauline,” I told her. “It nicely follows what I just told you. When Dad found out I was sexually active as a sixth-grader, he wasn’t upset or angry or anything like that. He was actually quite proud that his son was very much a healthy, normal heterosexual male. He gave me great advice that I’ve tried to follow to this day. “’Son,’ he told me, ‘if you make the girl happy, she’ll do her best to make you happy too. It doesn’t cost anything to pleasure your bedmate, so why not do it? Besides, it’s fun 95 percent of the time.’” Since that day, I’ve tried to live up to that bit of philosophy. So far, I’d say it’s worked out well for me. Therefore, Dad must have had the right idea.”

Now Pauline was openly sweating. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket to dab her cheeks and forehead. I could tell she had about a dozen more questions for me on her prepared list, so it came as a big surprise to me when she said. “This next question is the last one I have for you, Clark. It is the most important one, however: If I got undressed right now, would you give me a fuck?”

I didn’t know if Pauline was joking with me or not, so I gave her a totally honest answer. “Well, Pauline,” I began, “since you qualify with your good looks and I know you have no interest in marrying me, I’ll happily give you a fucking right now as you requested. You’re of legal age and you obviously want to do this, so I say why not? I bet you have a nice, tight pussy for my dick, too!”

Seconds later, I gently took Pauline by the hand and looked into her eyes with lust. She didn’t resist; in fact, she giggled. I promptly led her to my bedroom for some meaningless but wonderful horizontal fun.

Part Three

Pauline was undressed and ready for action long before I was, tossing her jeans, panties, brassiere, and blouse into a pile at the foot of my bed. I surmised that my sexually charged answers to the handful of questions she got around to asking me really had quite an effect on her sex drive. I think she was surprised by the lustful feelings that had suddenly overtaken her! Pauline was undoubtedly very attractive for a 14-year-old girl. I’m sure she was eyed quite often by her horny male classmates. Pauline, who stood about 5’6” tall, had firm tits and a vagina that was on the bushy side. She clearly had an athletic build—she later informed me that she was very good at racquet sports—and a lovely full head of curly brown hair. Facially, Pauline was adorable, having high cheekbones and dimples. I’d definitely bedded worse looking girls than my young neighbor. I had no trouble getting sexually excited.

We met in the center of my bed and embraced warmly. I kissed Pauline gently on her forehead and both her cheeks. I think she wanted to extend the romance for a few moments or minutes longer, but I preferred to get down to more serious business of full intercourse in a hurry. Still, I wasn’t going to be a pig about it.

I calmly said to her, “To show that I’m a man of my word, my first sex act will be one that will greatly please you, Pauline!” I proceeded to stimulate her vagina with sensuous licks and penetrations with my middle and index finger of my right hand. That had the desired effect on her. Pauline responded by moaning with pleasure and squirming with sheer delight. I happily focused on Pauline’s nether regions for several minutes.

“In all fairness, I think you ought to pleasure me now, Pauline!” I suggested to her.

“Oh, of course!” she agreed. I relaxed on my bed, on my back, with my stiff dick pointing straight into the air. I was fairly well endowed, so I hoped the sight of my erection was impressing her. Pauline knew what her job was: to stimulate my penis with the fine art of fellatio. She had obviously performed this sex act before because she seemed to know how to do it well. I especially liked the sensation when Pauline put my testicles into her warm mouth and worked them with her tongue. That maneuver certainly required creativity and talent! I was rather surprised I did not come prematurely, but I knew I was not going to last forever.

I promptly put Pauline on her back, mounted her and roughly shoved my dick inside her very wet vagina. The feeling was fabulous. Normally I like to use long thrusts during my screwing. However, I wanted to give Pauline a thorough fucking that she’d never forget. I must have rammed her 40 or 50 times in rapid succession, stopping only occasionally to play with her breasts and suck on them. Eventually I felt pressure mounting in my testicles to the point of no return. I fired a huge load of jism inside Pauline’s pretty pussy.

“Wow! What a great cum shot!” I loudly declared when the last drop of semen left my shaft. That statement sounded self-congratulatory—and it was. Therefore, I asked my bedmate, “Pauline, did I please you with my dick? I hope so!”

Overcome by sexual bliss, Pauline said nothing. She only smiled warmly and nodded. I was pleased that I had pleased her—and myself, of course.

I was still quite randy, so I figured one good fuck was worth a second. Within a few minutes I had regained an erection, so I resumed my exploration of Pauline’s desirable body by straddling her torso and fucking her tits. Following that bit of fun, I entered her pussy from behind. The titty-fuck was fun; I loved the way my dick moved up and down between Pauline’s jiggly assets. The doggie-style fuck, which I performed while I was standing at the end of the bed, was also terrific because I found I could penetrate Pauline deeply with this method. This could never be a bad thing.

I knew I would soon be coming a second time. This time I aimed my cum shot at Pauline’s face. Accordingly, I spun her around, placed my dick about half an inch from the tip of her nose, and let loose with another sizable geyser of my warm, thick semen. Within three seconds, her pretty face had been transformed into a mask of goo.

“This was something I didn’t mention to you in the interview,” I said to Pauline whose face had globs of jism hanging sexily from her nose, chin and forehead. “I absolutely love ejaculating on my partner’s face because it gives me a glorious feeling of total control and physical dominance. I suppose it’s a male thing. It’s also something that a great many females don’t really understand.”

“That’s right! No, I don’t understand it at all!” Pauline readily agreed, “But I accept it as being normal in the mind of a male.” I could tell she wasn’t as thrilled about the terrific facial she had gotten from me as I was.

Pauline excused herself and washed herself—particularly her face in the washroom across the hallway from my bedroom. “Jeez, there are strands of cum in my hair, too!” she announced. Then she returned to my bedroom, got dressed, and began to head out of my house with her clipboard under her arm.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Pauline?” I asked her.

That statement puzzled here. “What did I forget?” she asked me.

I smiled and replied, “Isn’t it customary and courteous to thank an interview subject when you are done questioning him?”