Darlene's Uncle's Hobby (Part #1)

Sexy 14-year-old Darlene BLackmoore tells schoolmate Philip Giffner she'd love to have sex with him--as long as her Uncle Bill can film their carnal encounter!

Author's Note:

This was one of my many stories that had to be removed in May 2025. However, since the rules have now been liberalized to allow for 14-year-old characters, I have slightly revised it, so it adheres to the guidelines.

Part One

Darlene Blackmoore was her name. A brunette originally from Atlantic Canada, she had been in my class since the first day of kindergarten back in September 1969. My name is Philip Giffner. It was the spring of 1977 now. Darlene and I were approaching the end of the eighth grade, and amazingly I really didn’t know very much about her. Once, back in the second grade, Darlene had told me she thought I was “the nicest boy in the whole school” and that she had even told her mother that, too! I was too naïve to pick up that she was trying to instigate a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. But, hey, I was only seven years old. I didn’t want to be kidded about having a girlfriend at that age, no matter how pretty or friendly the female might be.

By the time I was in the fifth grade, I noticed that Darlene, who was slightly taller than most of her female classmates, was among the first of them not to be completely flat-chested. More correctly, Darlene’s blossoming was drawn to my attention by a vulgar boy named Bruce who did not possess much couth; he referred to girls’ breasts as “knockers” or “jugs” within their earshot. Bruce was one of the few kids who routinely swore in the school’s playground and hallways. It was a bit shocking to the rest of us. Times were different back in 1970s suburbia.

By the time April 1977 neared its end, Darlene was clearly ahead of all her peers in bra size. The only two girls who surpassed her in that category had the unfair advantage of being held back one or two years for academic ineptitude. Therefore, on a truly level playing field, Darlene was the most “blessed” 14-year-old young lady in the eighth grade. In fact, she was probably better built than half the girls who attended the nearby high school. Still, she wasn’t grotesquely busty. To me they were works of art, the ideal size and shape for her lovely torso.

Then the rumor started: Word began to circulate that Darlene was sexually active and enjoyed sharing her passions with more than one of the eighth-grade boys. Nobody could pinpoint who these boys were, but just the thought of this adult activity happening in our school was enough to generate some spirited discussions whenever the male students huddled together.

The gossip settled down for a while until one Thursday afternoon when Darlene approached me near my locker to have a brief chat. I do not recall Darlene ever having a one-on-one chat with me on any subject before this momentous day, apart from saying hello if we saw each other away from school. We just didn’t have a lot in common. Darlene deliberately walked past me and then circled back to make sure no one else could hear what she was about to say. “Philip,” she began, “listen to me. I’d really love to have sex with you sometime soon. If you are interested, I’ll meet you by the water fountain near the main office when school is dismissed. Bye!”

At age 14, that was certainly the most extraordinary thing I had heard to that point of my young life. My sexual experience was zero. My overall history with females was almost zilch, too. Yet I was just told by beautiful and busty Darlene Blackmoore that she wanted to have sex with me! My mind was a blur, but one thing was for certain: When the final bell rang at 3:40 that afternoon, I would set a world-record time in getting to that water fountain!

I was perennially a good student. Academic achievements always came easily to me. While my classmates struggled with their daily homework, I usually completed mine speedily, had plenty of time to check it over, and then I killed the remaining time of every period with whatever book I happened to be reading. I was the only kid at my middle school who carried a copy of Gone with the Wind, but not even the tricky romantic maneuverings of Scarlett O’Hara could keep me focused on Margaret Mitchell’s famous novel that day. My mind was totally focused on Darlene Blackmoore’s amazingly naughty offer. I figured there was no living, breathing male who would turn her down. I certainly wasn’t going to be the first one!

Thoroughly distracted by the potential of my first roll in the hay, I think I read page #214 of GWTW five times and got absolutely nothing from the words. Then the bell rang. That didn’t mean class was quite over. The geography teacher reminded us of the due date for our research projects—which I had already completed—and then he let us go. “Hallelujah!” I said out loud, but which I meant to say quietly. I rushed to the meeting place that Darlene had selected. I was crestfallen when she wasn’t there waiting for me, but it occurred to me that she wasn’t likely to be running there as fast as I had. Sure enough, about a minute later, Darlene casually arrived. She smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Philip. I was hoping you’d say yes. Let’s each take a drink from the fountain and wait a few minutes,” she instructed. “Then follow me to my locker. Soon no one else will be in the hallway but the two of us. Then we can talk freely.” This was getting better by the second!

Darlene led me to her locker; like most of the boys in my class, I enjoyed gawking at her from afar, so I already knew the location. As Darlene opened her locker to put away some books and collect her bright pink sweater, I said nothing. How does one initiate this kind of conversation? Darlene looked around. Convinced nobody else was near, she said to me, “Philip, we’ve been going to the same schools all our lives. You’re really a sweet guy, so I’d love to do some sexual things with you…wonderful, passionate things. I bet this appeals to you, right?”

That had to be the stupidest question anyone had ever asked me, but I managed to keep my composure and calmly reply, “Uh…yes, Darlene, it certainly does!”

“I thought so,” replied Darlene, who gave me a little hug for my obvious enthusiasm. (To the best of my recollection, the last time I had had any physical contact with Darlene was when our third-grade class had a square-dancing unit in phys. ed.) “So, here’s the deal, Philip: Tomorrow afternoon you come home with me after school and we’ll have lots of fun together—kissing, hugging, rubbing, feeling, sucking and fucking. I’m pretty good at fucking and I like to do it.”

I was just about to say, “Pencil me in, Darlene, sweetheart!”—but she added an important coda. “The one catch is that my Uncle Bill gets to film everything we do.”

I went silent as I was not quite sure I had heard Darlene’s last sentence correctly. After a moment, I meekly uttered, “Film? Like with a movie camera? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yeah,” Darlene said. “Uncle Bill is in the independent movie business. He’s turned the basement of my house into a small studio. He makes films there for private and important customers all over the world. They pay him a lot of money for what he produces.” Then Darlene paused before adding, “I’ve been in six of his films already.” The mere thought of this gorgeous classmate of mine being in pornographic movies had me fascinated—and very much aroused.

Darlene explained that her parents were currently in Yemen. Her dad was a big wheel on a major construction project there that would last at least three years. Her mother went along too, but both her parents thought it was unwise for Darlene, their stunningly blossoming teenage daughter, to live in a repressive, male-dominated Middle Eastern country for any lengthy period. While they were in Asia, it was agreed that Uncle Bill—Darlene’s father’s brother—would move into their house to look after Darlene, who was an only child. A neighbor, Mrs. Kingsford, volunteered to drop by occasionally to deal with any female issues Darlene might be having.

I felt compelled to ask, “Do your parents know about your Uncle Bill’s movies?”

“Jeez, no,” said Darlene. “That’s a secret…and we are going to keep it a secret. When my parents come home from Yemen, every trace of the movie studio will be gone.”

“What do you get out of this?” I asked her.

“It’s a part-time job for me,” she said very casually, “and a good one. So far, I’ve made a little bit more than $1,700—all in cash. You will be paid, too, if you go forward with this. The boy always makes $75—and he gets to have sex with me, sometimes for two or three hours. That’s not a bad deal, is it? Kenny Cavanaugh and Donny Ferguson were both quite happy with that arrangement.” Now I knew the origin of the sex rumors about Darlene, and the names of two of her lucky 14-year-old bedmates.

My strong math skills kicked in, and I made a rough calculation. “So, you would make far more money than I would. Is that right?”

Darlene flashed her beautiful smile at me and sweetly taught me something valuable about the porn business. She replied, “As Uncle Bill puts it, ‘The customers pay to see the girl—not the boy.’”

Darlene also sensed something I didn’t have the nerve to tell her. “Don’t worry if you’ve never had sex before. Uncle Bill and I will guide you through everything.” Darlene then handed me a folded slip of pink paper. “Here’s my phone number. Think about the offer and call me tonight if your answer is yes.” She hugged me again, which I enjoyed, and began to walk away.

I stopped her before she had gone 20 feet. “Darlene, I won’t be calling you tonight. I’m saying yes right now!”

Part Two

As it turned out, I did call Darlene that night. A million things were buzzing through my brain. I told her my answer was still absolutely yes, but I needed a few questions answered before I made my film debut. Darlene made the wise suggestion that I come to her house that Thursday night so I could meet Uncle Bill in advance, see the layout of the movie studio, and ask whatever questions I wanted. She also came up with a clever ruse: “Tell your parents you are tutoring me in math; that’s totally believable.” It was a great idea. I used that line on my mother. She looked at me oddly and commented, “You’ve never had much to do with this girl—or any girl—before. Why the sudden change?”

“You haven’t seen Darlene lately,” was my pithy reply. That was the honest truth.

Darlene’s house was only about a three-minute walk from our school. When I got there, both Uncle Bill and Darlene greeted me at the door. Bill shook my hand like I was a business associate. (Well, in a way, I was!) He showed me the film studio he had created—where a large bed was front and center. There were two movie cameras on tripods and several still cameras nearby. Lights of various sizes, colors and shapes were stationed overhead.

Bill began the conversation. “Philip, Darlene tells me you are a super nice guy, and she’s known you since you were both five years old.” I nodded. “That’s why Darlene chose you—for simply being a nice guy. In the movies I produce, I want couples who truly like each other to make passionate love before the cameras. Darlene has made six movies for me so far. The first four were okay, but they lacked spark because the boys I paired Darlene with were strangers. In the last two, I used boys who are in the eighth grade at your school. Darlene knows them well enough from choir. They were much better. They’re both good students like you, too. I don’t want macho jerks. I want genuine, natural, well-mannered boys—boys who will treat my niece like a princess while they make love to her when the movie cameras are rolling.”

I asked Bill how he got Darlene into this business.

“I couldn’t help but notice how shapely Darlene had become since I last saw her in 1975. I asked her the day after her parents left for Yemen. I explained the amount of money she could make in a short time. I’ve been making these types of movies for years now. I know the type of girl who appeals to the customers. Darlene is perfect for this kind of work. She’s 14, she’s pretty, she’s busty, and she just glows when she has sex. She has a true beauty about her, a fantastic aura. Of course, her parents would likely kill me if they found out about these movies, but Darlene and I are keeping this whole business a secret while they are away. The movies are only sold to a select group of customers—private, foreign collectors with deep pockets. It’s not like they’re being shown in CinemaScope at the local theater. Most of my customers live in Europe, Japan and South America.”

I asked a few peripheral questions about moviemaking, and finally Bill said to me, “Philip, I think you and Darlene will be great together. By the way, these movies are silent. There is no sound or dialogue. I add a musical score afterwards. Therefore, I can direct the two of you through every move you make. Are you in?”

“Yes, I’m in,” I confirmed. Darlene surprised me with her third hug of the day, this one a substantial one.

“I’m looking forward to fucking you, Philip,” she announced with a cheeky grin. “I’m going to tell you a secret: I’d never had sex until I started making these movies about two months ago. With you, Philip, I’ll be so passionate I might make your dick explode!” She giggled and headed to an adjacent room, skipping happily in a girlish manner—which I found very sexy.

I collected my jacket and began to leave the studio area when I happened to notice a stack of photographs on a nearby table. They were likely publicity stills, and Darlene was the subject of every one of them. Neither Bill nor Darlene saw me examine them. My god, they were absolutely breathtaking! She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing in any of them—and she was gorgeous. I said to myself, “You’re right, Darlene. You might very well make my dick explode!”

Part Three

I arrived early on the appointed day. (Can you blame me for being so enthusiastic?) The movie shoot had been shifted from Friday to Saturday. I told my parents that Darlene’s math lessons were continuing. “We’re working on dividing fractions today,” I said with a straight face. I was getting to be a good liar. The night before had been a challenge. Although I was young, healthy and virile, I had to make a point of avoiding anything that might be sexually arousing. I wanted to be fully wired for my romp with Darlene on Saturday morning. Accordingly, I did not want to blow a load of cum on Friday night masturbating to visions of Valerie Bertinelli, Brigitte Bardot, or any of the Bradley girls from Petticoat Junction.

Bill had decided to bring in a second cameraman named George for the shoot—which was the reason for the one-day postponement. Bill quickly took charge of the proceedings. He instructed me and Darlene to get into the clothes he had put in our respective dressing rooms, which were little more than large cubicles.

I was to wear white tennis shorts and a navy-blue shirt with thin red zigzag stripes. To my delight, Darlene had a very classy wardrobe, clothes befitting her beauty. She had a modest peach-colored blouse, a black pleated skirt, white knee socks, and shined buckle shoes with low heels. She looked like she was on her way to a church function. Her shoulder-length brown hair had just been washed; it glimmered in the stage lighting. I couldn’t resist telling Darlene that she looked absolutely angelic. She smiled and blew me a kiss. One of my unvoiced concerns was that I might not be able to sexually “perform” in public, although the audience was comprised of just Bill and George. However, after seeing the gorgeous Darlene just 15 feet from me, I knew I’d have no difficulty getting up—and getting it up—for the occasion.

The movie had no plot whatsoever; it was wholly a tween sex scene. Bill shouted, “Action!” and Darlene and I approached each other slowly from opposite sides of the stage. We met in front of the bed and embraced. Darlene and I were simply supposed to do whatever felt natural for us. That was the extent of our simple directions. I decided to enfold this beautiful example of young womanhood in my arms. I kissed her cheeks and then moved to her mouth. Darlene seemed to like this idea too. She kissed me with equal vigor and passion. We automatically sat down on the bed, but our lips remained locked.

Darlene began to lightly rub circles on my shirt-covered chest with her right hand. I took the liberty of slightly touching her magnificent left breast with my right palm. When Darlene didn’t object and Bill didn’t say “Cut!”, I figured I could be more brazen and aggressive. I cupped her breast with my entire hand and started to raise my other hand to do the same to her right tit. Bill cautioned me, “Don’t be in a rush, Philip. We’ve got all day and lots of film. Take your time and enjoy sharing a bed with this ravishing beauty.” Sage advice it was. Darlene and I remained in a sitting position, but our hands explored each other’s bodies while we were still fully clothed.

After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity of PG-rated romance, Bill said, “Okay, enough of the mush. Time to get down to business. Darlene, stand up, stretch your arms, and slowly peel off your blouse the same way you did in your last movie.” She followed the instructions to the letter and unbuttoned her top in a very erotic manner. She emphasized the sexy, lacy brassiere she was wearing. To highlight God’s wonderful gifts, Darlene’s bra was probably at least one size too small.

Bill gave me some instructions, too. “Philip,” he said, “keep watching Darlene, but while you are doing that, start to remove your shorts and underwear. Then start to play with your dick until it gets good and hard. Do it slowly; it’s more erotic that way. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t come yet!” I was indeed excited, but surprisingly totally under control. I could imagine at least three-quarters of the boys in my class would have blown their loads at this point if they had been lucky enough to be in my place.

Still, when Darlene removed her bra and daintily dropped it to the floor, I gasped. Her breasts were magnificent! Those still photos I had examined on Thursday, revealing as they were, had not done them justice. No wonder they were the envy of every girl and the desire of every red-blooded boy at our school. I was in a stupor staring at this lovely, topless creature. Bill finally spoke up. “She’s all yours, Philip, my boy. Go get her—but be gentle.”

I quickly pulled off my shirt, flung it aside and advanced toward this dream girl. I was completely naked with a throbbing hardon. In contrast, Darlene still had her skirt, socks and shoes on. I lovingly scooped Darlene into my arms and lifted her to the gigantic, soft bed awaiting us, much like a groom carries his bride into their honeymoon suite in a Hollywood movie scene. Then it occurred to me that although this wasn’t Hollywood, it was still a movie scene!

I laid Darlene on her back. She was beaming. (God bless her!) She kicked off her shoes. I somehow figured out how to loosen her skirt despite having no experience to guide me. Then I lowered her light-blue panties to her ankles—and the next few minutes were something of a blur. I was overcome with pleasure and desire, and I could not remember very many specific details.

I was later told by Bill and Darlene that I had excessively fondled her beautiful mounds and sucked on her prominent nipples with great gusto. (I could hardly be faulted for that.) I then spread Darlene’s legs wide and licked her vagina like a man possessed. (I was possessed—with lust!) Darlene responded in kind by stroking my dick while I lay elevated on some pillows. Next, she stimulated my tremendous boner with some wonderful licking skills. Apparently, Darlene had learned a substantial amount from her six previous movie appearances. I recall her commenting, “Geez, Philip! You have a pretty dick! Shove that thing inside my pussy! I want it!”

I happily obliged. With some lucidity, I recall positioning myself between Darlene’s sexy legs. I then moved my throbbing dick toward her opening. To compose myself for this historic moment—it was certainly historic for me—I took a long, deep breath and inserted the head of my penis into her lovely cunt. It felt wonderful! I pushed harder and more and more of me went inside her. It was the first time I ever fucked a girl—and it was truly magnificent. We started to gyrate and thrust together as a team, but I could feel an unstoppable ejaculation coming on. I yelled at Bill, somewhat panicky, “Where should I come?”

“Pull out if you can…and let her have it!” was his quick reply.

Somehow, I managed enough self-control to do just that. I had withdrawn my dick from Darlene’s pussy for only about a second before I began to spew my load. Four times sperm was ejaculated from my average-size but apparently powerful dick. I’m glad my climax was preserved on film for posterity. The first blast was a gooey glob that landed slightly above Darlene’s navel. The second one splashed against her tremendous breasts. The third one reached the side of her nose. Darlene sat up for a moment and was promptly struck on the forehead with my final shot. My god, it felt wonderful! I didn’t care that Darlene was covered with jism. We embraced passionately, which meant I was wallowing in my own sperm. Bill had us maintain a romantic end-of-scene embrace for several minutes before he called “Cut!” He added, “Good job, you two. Great job, in fact! World-class cum blast, Philip. See, you were a great team today, just like I predicted!”

Of course, I had no experience to go by, so I took Bill at his word. Darlene, on the other hand, was the movie veteran, having now starred in seven porn flicks. She said I was more than adequate, although Kenny Cavanaugh had a thicker and more impressive dick which caused her to have an orgasm. That comment deflated my ego a bit—but not too much. Hey, there will always be critics in the movie business.

There was only one shower in the studio area, so Darlene and I shared it—which was a fun fringe benefit to end the movie shoot. I immediately got hard again and suggested we do a sequel. Darlene gently said no. She told me she’d had enough sex for one morning. I had to settle for one last suck on her lovely tits. Darlene, sweetheart that she was, had no objection to that at all.

As I collected my $75 from Bill and prepared to go home, Darlene announced, “Philip, it’s time for a surprise.” From behind one of the studio control panels, one of my classmates emerged. It was a pretty girl of native descent named Cindy Wiley. She had the typical build for an eighth-grade girl, but I thought the curves of her small breasts were lovely too. (Of course, I had always kept that opinion to myself.) Darlene and Cindy were longtime friends, so Darlene had invited her to observe the movie shoot from a secluded viewing spot. Thus, Cindy had watched Darlene and me go at it like rabbits without my being aware of her presence.

“Philip, you know Cindy, don’t you?” asked Bill. I said nothing; I only shyly nodded. I was somewhat embarrassed at having performed sex acts in front of another girl whom I had known for years. I need not have been.

“Cindy is joining the movie business, too,” Bill announced. “Next Saturday she would really like you to fuck her just like you fucked Darlene today. What do you say, Philip?”

“I can’t think of a better, more enjoyable way of earning $75” was what I said.