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Saturday, July 31, 2004

 

Petite Woman Porn Sex story

Virtual Reality Gaming Trilogy - Part 2
From Lust to Love

c 2002, Bingain (M~F, cons, rom, ScFi, oral)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4

Tim gave Alan a call when they were about five minutes away
from the game center. Alan told them to go to the staff
entrance at the rear of the building, and he would wait for
them there.

Tim saw Alan and Manus waiting for them outside the rear
entrance. He introduced Emma to them. "This is Alan, my
high school buddy. This is Manus, Annie's boyfriend," he
told Emma.

"Hey, Emma, welcome," Alan said.

"Hi Emma," Manus said. "You know Annie?"

"How can I not know her?" Emma said, smiling. "She's with
Tim every day." She giggled.

The guys chuckled as they went inside. Alan led them into
a room at the back. The room had a 'Staff Only' sign on it.
There were eight reclining chairs in the room. Unlike
those Tim had seen in other gaming center rooms, these
chairs were regular reclining chairs found in most
households. There were already four people in the chairs,
all wearing huge headset-like devices which covered their
ears and eyes, and a microphone at their lips. They were
also wearing big gloves like those worn by baseball players,
as well as big vinyl boots. At a corner, a guy was sitting
behind some equipment and monitors. Alan gestured for his
friends to go out of the room.

"Okay," Alan said. "As you can see, they are wearing the
standard prototype gears: headset, motion-gloves, and
motion-boots. Those chairs are just there to provide
comfort. You can actually lie on the floor."

After Tim and Emma finished chuckling, Alan continued, "The
game is called 'Double Taker'. It's a team game, in which
a team of people plays the bounty hunters, and the other
team plays the fugitives. I don't know why it has to be a
team. I guess it has to do with something they will
release later on. The starting point in the game is a maze,
with a random number of exit points, from eight to sixteen,
leading to different worlds. Some are deserts, some are
busy streets, some are small towns, and others are hotels,
business towers, anything. I heard that they've made about
fifty different worlds so far.

"The bounty hunters and the fugitives start at different
ends of the maze. The fugitives have to get into one of
the exit points before they are caught in the maze. Once
they get into the worlds, the bounty hunters will be
notified, and all exit points will be closed for two
minutes, before a new one will be opened near the bounty
hunters, and they can follow into the same world, but
usually different areas.

"There's a secret touch down point in each world. They are
randomly generated, so it can be a dumpster which you have
to jump into, it can be a big cat you need to kick, or it
can be a pretty girl that you have to grope."

Even Manus joined Tim and Emma laughing. Alan smiled as he
went on. "The key for both parties is to seek information
from the environment and the people. For the fugitives,
they can even tell the NPC to give faked information to the
bounty hunters."

Emma stopped Alan. "What is an NPC?" she asked.

"Oh," Alan said. "NPC stands for Non-Player-Characters.
They are computer generated dummy people. I don't know
what will happen if you grope every female NPC you see."

Manus, looking at Emma, said, "Or if you grope every male
NPC."

"Yeah," Emma said, giggling. "Do you have an 'NPC' sign
you can hang on your chest?"

All the guys laughed. Then Alan continued, "There's no
violence or bloodshed in the game. Bounty hunters don't
shoot. They're equipped with capturing devices that will
catch the fugitives when they are within a range of ten
feet. So, if you play the fugitives, forget about
camouflage. It doesn't work if you're within range of the
capturing devices. The game's over when the bounty hunters
catch the getaways, or when the getaways hit the touch down
point, or when all players communicate through the game
moderator and agree to a draw or a pause, or if the game
has reached a predetermined time limit. Game moderator is
the guy you see in the corner. He can do anything with the
game. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "Can I kiss my partner in the game?"

"That's the problem," Alan said. "In a trial game, I
kissed a girl I was trying to date. She works here, as
well. I didn't feel anything when I kissed her, but when
she woke up from the game, she had a bite on her lip, and
her tongue was almost slashed off. We were finished. She
didn't want to know how I kiss in real life."

Tim and Emma bent down laughing. Manus was also laughing,
although it wasn't the first time he had heard the story.

"Anyway," Alan said, "they found out some bugs in that part.
I'm not sure if it was the sensation programming, or the
emotion programming. They should've compensated me by
sending me a dozen chicks. But, instead, they disabled
some features in the game. Now all players in the game
wear full helmets and the same kind of clothes. The looks
and voices are all taken from a few random generated
templates. So, practically, it doesn't matter if Manus or
Emma plays my girlfriend." He beamed at them.

"So I suppose I can't take my clothes off in the game, can
I?" Emma asked, smiling slyly at Alan.

"No," Alan said. "But you can do it here and now. I don't
mind." He turned to Manus. "Do you?"

"Hell, no!" Manus said, eying Emma.

Emma giggled, and turned to ask Tim. "Do you mind?"

"I don't mind, if they pay us to provide them with a show,"
Tim said, with a made up innocent look.

"All right," Alan said. "Let's don't get carried away. Oh,
I almost forgot. We've named the moderator 'Bingain'. If
you need to contact him while in the game, press the
emergency button on your bracelet, and yell his name.
Don't bullshit with him, though. He's not going to help
you solve the quest, or give you hints. He's there to
protect you from mishaps, and note any bugs. Now, do you
want to play the cop or the outlaw?"

Emma glanced at Tim. "Well, he's a bad boy," she said.
"So I suppose we should play the outlaws."

"Okay," Alan said. "Let's set the game time to thirty
minutes. Is that okay?"

"Fine for me," Tim said.

"Fine for me too," Emma said.

They went inside the room again. Alan went over to the
moderator and told him the team arrangement and game time,
while Manus helped Tim and Emma put on their equipment.
They took their seats, and the moderator came over to help
them adjust the equipment. "Raise your thumb when you're
ready," the moderator said.

Tim raised his thumb. "This is better," he thought to
himself. "At least they have a life moderator here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim found himself in the maze, wearing black track-suit.
He heard a female voice from behind. He turned around and
saw a tall girl in a similar outfit, wearing a black helmet.
The girl was almost as tall as he was. He couldn't see
through the tinted face shield she was wearing, so he
couldn't see what she looked like. Nevertheless, he knew
that it was his partner, played by Emma.

Emma studied him briefly. "Hi, bad boy," she said, and
raised her hand to push on her face shield.

To his surprise, Emma could lift her face shield over her
head. Her simulation had blue eyes, a tall nose, and a few
strands of blonde hair on her forehead. "Typical Barbie
doll template," Tim thought, as he raised a finger to lift
his face shield. "What do I look like?"

"Oh," Emma said smiling, "you look as bad as you are in my
bed, baby. How about me?"

"You're so sexy, I suppose my bad thing is sticking out of
my jeans in the room," he said.

Emma giggled. "Really?" she said, and came over to grope
at his crotch. "Can you feel this?"

Tim looked down at her hand. He could feel her fondling
his manhood, but it was as if he already had sex a dozen
times that day. He didn't feel blood rushing to that part.
He stretched his hands to fondle her breasts. "How do you
feel?" he asked.

Emma looked down at his hands, then raised her eyes to look
at him. "My goodness," she said in disappointment. "It's
the first time a guy has groped me, and I can't feel it.
This game sucks!"

Tim laughed. "Well, I suppose we need to find an NPC to
grope, then," he said, and looked around to find way to any
of the exit points.

They jogged for about two minutes before they found a
shining metal door. It opened when they were a couple
steps away from it. They stepped out of the maze, and
found themselves in a pub. The door vanished behind them.

"A pub!" Emma said excitedly. "Let's dance, baby."

"I thought we were trying to get away from the bounty
hunters," Tim said.

"Well, let them find us," Emma said. She held Tim's hand
and went to the floor.

Emma stopped in front of a nice looking guy. "Hi," she
said to him.

The handsome guy turned to look at Emma. "Hi, lady," he
said. Then he returned his attention to the girl he was
dancing with, and continued swaying to the music.

Emma whispered to Tim, "I'm going to grope him. Back me up,
okay?"

"Handsome guy," Emma said, sliding her body in between the
dancing couple, and 'accidentally' groping the guy's crotch.

The handsome guy halted, and looked at Emma. "What do you
need, my lady?" he asked, smiling.

Emma stepped back a little. "He's hard," she whispered to
Tim. "Try his partner."

Tim hesitated briefly. "Back me up," he whispered to Emma.
He stepped forward to the girl, who was still dancing, even
though her partner had stopped when Emma talked to him.
"Hi, sweetie," he said.

"Hi, handsome," the girl said.

Tim pretended he was bumped from behind, and fell toward
the girl. He held the girl with one hand, and touched her
breast with his other hand. Her breasts felt like a
plastic surgeon's work.

The girl stopped all her motions. Everyone else in the pub
stopped. Lights were turned on. Music was halted. Tim
swung around to look at Emma, who was glancing around with
an astonished expression. Then different music played, and
all the people in the pub applauded. "Congratulations!"
they screamed.

People around Tim and Emma started moving away. The floor
where they were standing started to rise into a platform.
A pretty girl in an evening gown came over.
"Congratulations," she said. "You've defeated the evil
bounty hunters."

They saw Andy and Manus behind the girl. They were
apparently very disappointed. "Game's over! Please come
play again," the girl said. "Counting down now. Five,
four, three, two, one, thank you!"

Tim woke up in his reclining chair. He turned his face to
look at Emma, who was also looking at him. She had a tiny
smile on her face.

The moderator came over and removed the equipment from them.
"Congratulations," he said, smiling at them. "You guys
have broken the record for hitting the touch down point in
the shortest time." He then went over to help Alan and
Manus take off their gear.

"Holy crap!" Manus said. "What did you do? How did you
find out about the touch down point?"

"Female instinct," Emma said, giggling. "Hurray for all
females!"

All the guys in the room laughed. "So, do you want another
game?" Alan asked.

Emma thought for a moment. "I'm a little tired. Can we
play again next week?" she said.

"Sure," Alan said. "I'm trying to find a time earlier, so
Annie can join us. Damn, we need more females. The
developer wants more females to participate, so they can
adjust the game balance accordingly."

"If Annie comes, what about you?" Tim asked.

"Well, I play it every night. You don't have to worry.
I'll be the moderator, so this guy can play those bloodshed
games he likes." He pointed to the moderator at the corner,
who was smiling at Alan's remarks.

"By the way, those face shields on the helmets," Tim said.
"I could lift it up. A feature or a bug?"

"Bug," the guy in the corner said. "It will be fixed
tomorrow."

"Yeah, it's a bug," Alan said. "It doesn't tally with the
present policy of shielding character identities. I
believe eventually there will be no face shields, and you
can choose your face and features like some other games.
There's a lot to be done with this cheaper personal gear."

"It's still fun. Too bad I have a smart partner," Tim
beamed at Emma. "Or, we could have a more challenging
chase."

The four players went outside the game room.

"Are you leaving now?" Tim asked Alan.

"Yeah, in a moment," Alan said. He turned to Manus. "Are
you going to wait for me?"

"Yeah," Manus said. He turned to the couple, and said,
"I'll show you guys out."

They waved goodnight to Alan, then again to Manus outside
the entrance, and drove back.

"Why didn't you play another game?" Tim asked.

"Oh," Emma said, smiling slyly. "I thought you wanted to
play another type of game."

"Oh," Tim said, copying her style. "How did you know?"

Emma sniffed the air. "I can smell it," she said, giggling.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"My home," she said. "Dad's asleep now. But you have to
be careful and not to make any noise. I don't think you
should stay overnight, unless you can wake up really early
tomorrow morning. It's not a nice thing if you were to
wake up at nine, go for your pee, and get caught by my dad
naked. He may like your ass." She giggled again.

Tim laughed. "By the way," he said. "How did it feel when
you groped the guy's cock?"

"His cock was hard, but cold," Emma said, giggling. "I'd
rather have a hot one." She put a hand on his thigh and
started stroking.

"Don't make me come while I'm driving," he said.

"Oh," Emma said. "I've never tried that before. Sounds
like a good idea." She moved her hands over to his bulge.

"Oh," he said. "I thought you'd rather I come with you
later, than being wasted before arriving at your house."

"Oh, well," Emma said, glancing at Tim. "If you get wasted
so easily, what're you good for?"

"How many times have we done it today?" Tim said.

"Only twice," she said. "You still owe me ten."

"Oh," Tim said. "Ten. We need that guy you groped at the
pub."

Emma burst out laughing. "By the way, how was the gal you
groped?" she asked.

"Plastic surgeon's work," he said. "Forget about her.
Yours are a million times better."

"Oh," she said. "Just a million times?"

"Trillion times. I stand corrected," he said.

They got into her house carefully, and sneaked into her
room. They experienced their hot, passionate, and vigorous
game. He had to cover her mouth with his lips so she
wouldn't wake up her dad as she came loudly. Tim left her
house after a brief rest. He didn't know if he could wake
up before her dad the next morning. He went home, took a
shower, and went to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Tim was informed by Alan that he
had managed to get them a one hour period at midnight on
the following Sunday. Tim also knew Annie would be
participating.

Tim rented a room at a motel on Saturday, so he wouldn't
have to worry about where to go for a nap and fun games.
It was indeed a brilliant idea. Emma was more demanding
than the previous weeks. He didn't even take her out for
dinner, but ordered a pizza instead. They had a nap after
their dinner, until it was time for them to go to the
second virtual reality game.

Emma seemed delighted to see Annie at the gaming center.
"Should we have an all female team against an all guys
team?" she suggested.

Tim shrugged. "Fine for me," he said.

But since Manus looked a little hesitant, they went back to
a mixed team. They also decided that Tim's team would play
the bounty hunter role this time. Manus explained all the
details to Annie before they went into the room, where Alan
was busy with the equipment in the corner.

After a few seconds, Alan looked up and saw them. "Nice
timing," he said. "I've just applied a minor patch. He
gestured for Tim to step over to him, and whispered in his
ear, "Grope your partner when you're in the maze. This
feature will likely disappear by the next time you play."

Tim found himself in a black suit and tie when he was in
the maze. He knew he was still wearing the helmet, and he
couldn't lift the face shield up. He turned around to
check his partner. Emma had shrunk in size, but had well
proportioned figure. She was wearing similar attire as he.
She waved to him.

Tim went over, hugged her, and 'accidentally' fondled her
breasts. Emma looked shocked, staring at him. "You groped
me!" she said. Her voice sounded like Marilyn Monroe.

"How did it feel?" he said.

Emma didn't answer. She reached for his crotch and fondled
his manhood. "Oh my goodness," she exclaimed. "You're
getting bad."

Tim laughed. "Too bad we can't take off our clothes," he
said. "Let's go after the outlaws. May be we can strip
them."

"Hope so," she said, giggling.

They began searching in the maze. A while later, they
heard a voice coming out from a public addressing system.
"Fugitives have gone to The Double Taker Tower," the voice
said. "Capture operation has been suspended for two
minutes. A portal will then be opened to that area when
operation is resumed."

"Well," Tim said. "There's nothing we can do except wait."

"Oh well," Emma said. "Nothing to do, except groping."

"Well," Tim said, "considering you can't remove your helmet
or your clothes, and you can't even kiss, I don't see a
huge incentive in groping. It's only going to make things
worse."

"True," Emma said. "I hate this damn helmet."

They waited until a bright blue portal opened in front of
them. They stepped inside, and found themselves in the
lobby of an office building. They looked around, but they
didn't see the suspects. They glanced at each other, and
went over to the enquiry desk, which was manned by a bulky
security guard.

"Have you seen two people who are wearing helmets?" Tim
asked him.

"No, I haven't," the guard said.

They looked around again. Emma grabbed a businessman who
passed by them. "Have you seen anyone wearing helmets?"
she asked.

"They went to the basement," the business man said.

"Hurray!" Emma exclaimed, and started to walk toward the
stairwell.

Tim moved a step, remembered something, and asked the
businessman again, "Did they tell you they were going to
the basement?"

"Yes," he said.

Emma heard it, and she came back. "So did you see where
they headed for? Don't tell what they said or what they
told you to tell us, or I'm going to kick you in the
fucking balls. You got it?" she growled at him.

"They went inside the elevator to the farthest end," the
businessman said, with a scared expression on his face,
covering his groin with his hands.

"Yay!" Emma gave Tim a high five. They went over to the
elevator. It served levels Thirty to Forty-five, still a
huge area, but at least they were getting closer.

"Okay," Tim said. "We don't have to care how these NPC's
think or feel. We can be rude to them and nobody is
getting hurt." He looked around, and pulled out a roll of
newspapers from the litter bin. They waited for the
elevator.

As soon as the elevator door opened, Tim raised his
newspapers, pointing to them. "Hands up! Nobody moves,"
he yelled, "or I'll blow your heads off."

Everyone in the elevator had their hands up. "Okay. Now,
whoever can tell me where two people wearing helmets went,
can go. Everyone else will be eliminated."

"Level Thirty-four!" half of the crowd said, while the
other half said "Level Forty!"

Tim could hardly control himself. Emma was already
laughing. "All right, who told you they were going to
Level Thirty-four?"

"The man in black," half of them said.

"Who told you they were going to Level Forty?"

"The woman in black," the rest said.

"Where did they actually go?"

"Level Thirty!" they said in unison.

Tim and Emma exchanged looks again. "Now get the hell out
of here," Tim roared, waving his roll of newspapers.

They went inside the elevator, pressed Level Thirty, and
waited for the door to close. "It looks like they don't
have very good teamwork," Emma said, giggling.

"Looks like it," Tim said, smiling.

When the elevator door opened on Level Thirty, they looked
around the lobby. "Where do you think they've gone?" Emma
asked.

Tim thought for a moment. He pointed at the floor.
"Downstairs," he said. "If I were them."

Emma thought for a moment as well. "Sounds logical," she
said, and started looking for a stairwell.

"Now what?" Emma said as they reached the Twenty-ninth
level.

"Well," Tim said teasingly, "if the damn helmets and
clothes could be taken off, I would have taken my partner
to the restroom or storeroom. But we can't. And Annie
isn't a very playful person, so I would guess they may be
either somewhere on this floor, on their way down, or..."

"Or what?" Emma asked.

Tim thought briefly. He knew Manus had played this game a
number of times before. Manus would probably have thought
of many tactics. He would probably have found the safest
place. Tim jogged toward the elevators and pressed the
button. He then turned around to Emma. "Main Lobby!" he
said.

They found the escaping couple sipping coffee in the lobby
coffee shop. Manus had a very disappointed and frustrated
look on his face. The end game routine replayed again.
Emma hugged Tim in excitement in the game, and again after
the game when she got off her chair.

"Another game!" Manus offered, apparently still feeling
like he lost the game unreasonably.

"Tim!" Alan waved at him, before anyone could respond to
Manus's request.

Tim went over to Alan, who handed back Tim's cell phone to
him. "Deb called you," he said. "She didn't sound good."

"Oh, thanks," Tim said. "I guess I'm going to call her
back now. You want to play?"

Alan glanced at Emma. "She's your partner," he said.

Tim turned to Emma. "I have a call from my sister. I need
to call her back and I don't know how long it'll take.
Would you like to team up with Alan?"

"Sure," Emma said. "Well, Alan, I hope you're better than
Tim."

Alan smiled at her. He picked up the phone and pressed an
extension number. He asked another guy to come over and
take up his moderator position.

Tim went outside to the hall and called his step-sister.
Deborah cried into the phone when she heard her brother's
voice. She told him what had happened. She had a big
fight with her boyfriend on the day before. She thought it
over, and went to his apartment to try smoothing things out,
and found him in bed with another girl. She broke off with
him.

Tim consoled his step-sis, and talked with her until he saw
his friends coming out from the game room.

Chapter 5


"How was the game?" Tim asked when he drove back to the
motel.

"We lost this time," Emma said. "They played fugitives
again, and went into a jungle world. How the heck could we
gather any information from the animals? We couldn't find
them."

"Well, I suppose there's a way to make them talk or to give
information," Tim said. "You just hadn't found out."

"Oh well," Emma said. "We tried stroking them, groping
them, threatening them. Nothing worked. Maybe you should
try them next time."

"So it's a disappointing loss, huh?" Tim said.

"Yeah, kind of," Emma said. "But it's just a game, no big
deal. Well," she turned and smiled at Tim as she continued,
"do you know he's big?"

"Alan?" Tim turned to look at her. "Goodness! You groped
him?"

"Oh well," Emma said, "are you jealous?"

"Well," Tim said, "you're not my girlfriend."

"You know," Emma said, smiling at Tim, "This is why I like
you, even though you're a little off my style. You don't
take things for granted like most guys. Yeah, guys, they
can screw every girl they meet, but a girl has to wait in
his bed for his merciful fuck."

Tim laughed. "Merciful?" he said. "Well, I know my
position, and I think I know what you're looking for.
After all, it's your summer vacation here."

"Very true," Emma said. "You know, if you were more
romantic and caring, I might want more from you."

"I thought I was very caring," Tim said.

"You are," Emma said. "In a friendly manner, not a
romantic manner."

"I don't get it," Tim said.

"Have you ever bought me flowers?" Emma said. "Have you
ever bought me tiny gifts? Have you... well, never mind
that, you're not supposed to say you love me." She giggled.

Tim thought for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said. "I
thought I would do that for... nah, I was wrong. You're
right. Thanks for letting me know."

"Anyway," Emma said, giggling, "you're not my type of guy.
But it's great to have you here. You're a great guy. You
know, if you can stick your cock into my belly button, I
may let you pop that unbeatable cherry."

Tim laughed again. "So, did he grope you?" he asked.

"Alan?" Emma said, giggling, "He's a useless chicken. What
a waste for him to have a big cock!"

"Nah," Tim said, smiling. "He's not useless. I guess it's
because I'm his friend, probably his best friend."

"Oh," Emma said. "Did you tell him I was your girlfriend?"

"No," Tim said. "He probably took it for granted. Anyway,
I bet he wouldn't touch you even if I was just putting a
move on you."

"Oh well," Emma said. "His loss. Damn, I've never been in
a threesome with two guys who are best friends." She
giggled.

They arrived at the motel. "Do you want me to call him
over?" he teased Emma.

"Nah," Emma said as they stepped into their room. "I'm not
going to touch that useless big cock chicken again. Hmm, I
wish you had two cocks. Hey! Let's play sixty-nine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning at breakfast, Emma asked Tim, "What would
you do if you found me in bed with Alan? Would you join
in?"

"Are you considering?" Tim asked.

"What would you do?"

"Well," Tim said, "we're very close friends, but we are not
sex friends. You're a free woman, except when we're
screwing each other. You can screw any guy you like, Alan
or anyone. But I won't join in. Are you considering
screwing him?"

"No," Emma said. "Told you. I was just trying to get your
view."

"Have you ever actually done a threesome?" Tim asked,
teasingly.

"Yeah, once," Emma said. "Just for curiosity. Honestly, I
don't like it. Sex is for fun and joy. I didn't see them
in a threesome. Well, if you had two dicks, I may want to
try it more often." She giggled.

"Too bad, too bad," Tim mumbled, smiling at Emma.

"So what are you going to do today?" Emma asked. "Besides
fucking me?"

"What do you have in mind?" Tim said.

Emma thought for a while. "Why don't we take a drive?
Let's go to Niagara Falls," Emma suggested.

"Promise me you won't get me bad in public place," Tim said.

"No, I won't promise," Emma said, smiling mischievously.

"Please," Tim pleaded.

"No," Emma said. "All I can promise is I'll get you to a
place where you can get relief, the moment you need it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following week went on peacefully. The weekend virtual
reality game was called off, as Alan had a problem fitting
them in an earlier time, and Annie wanted to concentrate on
studying for her final examination in her class. Alan had,
however, informed Tim that he had fitted them in a ninety
minute period, from 12:30 am on Sunday, the last day of
June.

Emma had started talking with Annie in a very friendly
manner, whenever she saw her in the parking lot. Annie,
however, still displayed some uneasiness whenever she was
with Emma. In fact, Annie didn't seem to be in a good mood
all week long. Tim suspected she was under huge pressure
because of her school and work.

Manus surprised Tim and Annie by showing up in the parking
lot on Wednesday evening, after their classes. He showed
them the car he just bought from another coworker. It
looked a lot crappier than Tim's twelve-year-old car.
However, it was a big start for Manus, as he didn't make
much money from his summer job. He took Annie home.

Tim and Emma didn't have a final examination for their
class, but they had to submit a research paper. Tim didn't
see Emma over the weekend, as he was busy doing research
and writing the paper. He also called Deborah again to
find out how she was coping with her situation. Deborah
told him she was coming home on the day before Independence
Day. She would be staying home for two weeks, before her
second summer classes started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first part of summer classes ended on Friday, June 28th.
Tim had agreed to take the girls to a dinner, celebrating
the completion of the course. They went to a pizza
restaurant. After the meal, they went to a bowling alley,
and had some drinks in the attached snack bar. Manus and
Alan showed up a little past midnight. They had a few
casual bowling games before they all left.

Tim took Emma to his home. His parents had managed to get
both Saturday and Sunday off, and had gone to New York City
to spend a weekend with Tim's widowed step-grandma. They
had sex again and again in his bed.

When Tim woke up on Saturday, it was already close to ten.
He found Emma sitting at his desk and talking on her phone.
She was wearing one of his tee shirts, which she apparently
took from one of his drawers. She waved to him when she
saw him awake, but continued talking on the phone for
another fifteen minutes.

She came over to the bed after the phone call, and snuggled
against Tim. "Good morning, babe," she said, smiling. "I
woke up this morning horny, and you were asleep. So I
called up all guys I knew for some phone sex."

Tim laughed, then stroked her thighs, and said, "I thought
it would be more practical if you just took advantage of my
morning badness."

"Oh, badness," Emma cooed. "Let me see how bad." She
started stroking his hardness. "Not too bad! You need to
be more bad, that is, worse, and more worse," she said as
she started massaging his body with hers.

Tim's morning badness didn't last long, with Emma
straddling fervently on top of him. They took a shower,
and then Tim made Emma a hot breakfast.

"So, what are you going to do for the rest of the summer?"
Tim asked.

"I'm going to UK and France for two weeks with my cousin,"
Emma said. "Then, I don't know... maybe I'll stay in New
York for a couple of weeks, or maybe I'll come to see if
you're taken or not."

Tim chuckled. "Wow," he said in mock sadness, "I'm on the
bottom of your list."

Emma giggled. "Well," she said, "you're the only guy on my
list, so don't feel bad."

"Oh," he said, copying her style again. "Female is your
preference?"

"Yeah," Emma said, glancing at him, "when I don't need sex.
You know, guys are usually only good for one thing. Well,
two, if you include making breakfast."

Tim laughed.

"Can I smoke in the house?" Emma asked.

"Well, nobody smokes in the house, so my mom may not like
it," he said. "Do you mind if we go out to enjoy the sun?"

"Sure," Emma said. "Would you please get my bag from your
room? Make sure you bring the condoms with you."

Tim laughed as he went up the stairs. He took Emma's
handbag, got some soft drinks from the fridge, and took her
to the backyard. They sat in the glider by a tree, and
continued with their conversation.

"Anyway," Emma said, "I'll be going to New York tomorrow
and staying with my uncle for a couple of days, before the
trip. I'm not sure if I will see you again this summer,
or... well... this life. I'll always remember you, though.
You're just sweet." She smiled amiably at him.

Tim smiled at her. "I'll remember you, too," Tim said.
"You're a great woman."

"Oh," Emma said. "I thought I was a slut."

Tim laughed. "To tell the truth," he said. "That was what
I thought about you when I... you know... first showed you
my badness. Do you mind me asking something?"

"No," Emma said. "What do you want to know?"

"Have you slept with another guy since we first slept
together?" Tim asked.

"No. Should I?" Emma said, and winked at him. "Okay, if
that big cock guy wasn't such a chicken, I might have, and
would have dumped you." She giggled.

"Okay," Tim said. "So you don't usually have multiple
sexual partners at the same time, do you?"

"No," Emma said. "I like finishing with one before going
for another." She giggled again.

Tim chuckled. "That means," he said, "you're a sexually
active person, which is not the definition of a slut."

"Oh," Emma said. "Sexually active, not slut. Hmm, still a
long way to go, huh?" She winked at him.

Tim smiled. "No," he said. "In fact, occasionally you let
some of your deeper side slip out. You're a lot more than
what you seem to be."

Emma smiled at him. "Thank you, sweetie. You surely know
how to make a woman happy without sending her flowers," she
said. "Tell you what. When you come over to Albany to
visit your sister, give me a call. I'll buy you a dinner,
and if I don't have a guy yet, I'll make sure you won't
have the strength to drive back. How's that?"

"Sounds great to me," Tim said, laughing.

"Well, I guess I have to go now," Emma said. "I'm going
shopping with some high school friends. Would you like to
join us for dinner?"

Tim was still considering when Emma spoke again.

"Well," she said, smiling at him, "let's just say I'm not
the prettiest of them."

Tim laughed. "No," he said, "I wasn't thinking about that.
But, anyway, I'll come. Where and when?"

"Seven at lust and sex," Emma said. "Oh, I meant Lester's
Steakhouse." She giggled.

Emma went back to his room, changed back into her own
clothes, kissed Tim, and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim mowed the lawn after Emma left. He then went to his
room and cleaned it up, something he hadn't done for a
while. He worked on his computer after lunch, then took a
nap. When he woke up, he was almost late for dinner with
Emma and her friends. He hurried to change his clothes,
and drove to the restaurant.

When he was inside Lester's Steakhouse, he saw Emma waving
to him from a big table. He went over. There were already
another four girls and two guys there. They chitchatted
while enjoying food and drinks. Some of them were coming
back home from Albany. Two of them were going to Monroe
Community College, but Tim couldn't identify who. Tim,
however, knew Emma lied to him. She was undoubtedly the
prettiest of all the girls at the table, although none of
them were bad looking.

Toward the end of the dinner, they were discussing whether
they should go dancing, or go bowling. Finally, a vote
determined they would go bowling.

Tim was actually a lousy bowler. Everyone else scored much
better than him. Emma was pretty good, scoring an average
of 170 per game, using her own ball. In fact, most of them
had their own balls. He opted out of the third game,
blaming his aching back, and watched them play. He offered
to buy them refreshments.

When Tim carried the tray of drinks back from the snack bar,
he took another seat next to Emma, which made him feel
easier. A short girl with short auburn hair had just hit a
spare, and came back to take a drink and sit in the empty
seat next to Tim.

"Why aren't you playing?" she asked.

"Arched back," Tim said.

"Well," Emma said from his side, "I guess he meant arched
front."

The girl giggled with Emma.

It was Emma's turn. She picked up her ball, and stepped up
to the lane.

"So, what're you doing at Monroe?" the auburn-haired girl
asked.

"General stuff," Tim said, while trying to remember her
name. "I've just finished English One. I hope I'll pass."

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said. "You'll pass, as
long as you go to the class. You'll score a C if you hand
in all the assignments."

Emma hit another strike. Both Tim and the girl gave her a
high five when she returned. It was the turn of another of
the better players. She glanced at Emma, and gave her a
challenging smile before she made her move. She also hit a
strike.

They talked loosely and briefly for a while, and it was the
auburn-haired girl's turn again. Tim whispered to Emma,
"What's her name again?"

"Pamela, or Pam," Emma whispered back. "Are you interested
in her?"

"Nah," Tim whispered, "but it's awkward to ask about her
name again."

"She goes to Monroe," Emma whispered. "She lives not very
far away from you. She has no car and no boyfriend at the
moment. You could take advantage of these." She smiled
slyly at him.

"What does she do at Monroe?" Tim whispered.

"Pam," Emma said when she was coming back, "Tim wants to
know what you are taking at Monroe. He also wants to know
what your favorite color is for panties."

"No," Tim said, embarrassed, as Pamela looked at him, and
then joined Emma laughing.

"I'm in Nursing," Pamela said as she sat down. Emma got up
for her turn. She took her ball and smiled slyly at Tim.

"Okay," Tim said. He stayed silent as he watched Emma
throwing her ball in a smooth and stylish manner. She hit
nine pins. She threw again, and made her spare. She came
back and motioned for Tim to get up.

Emma took Tim's seat, and told him to take her seat. Tim
looked at her with an inquiring expression. "We need a
little girl talk here," Emma whispered to him.

When Pamela returned from her turn at bowling, Emma started
whispering with her. They only briefly talked with Tim
when the other one was at the lane. Eventually, Emma beat
the other better player by a small margin.

Emma whispered in Tim's ear, "Go talk with her. I've told
her you're not my boyfriend."

Tim whispered back. "Can we have a fast screw outside?"

Emma giggled, went to the snack bar, lighted up a cigarette,
and waited for Tim. "Okay," she said as Tim came over to
her. "What's the matter?"

"Look," Tim said. "I'm not putting a move on her. It just
happened she was sitting next to me and talking to me, and
I felt stupid not knowing her name, and I didn't want to
ask her."

"Oh," Emma said, smiling, "don't be so harsh, baby.
Actually... well, anyway, you can talk with her like a nice
friend. What will happen next, nobody can tell."

"I'm sorry, Emma," Tim said. "I didn't feel easy."

"It's okay, baby," Emma said, smiling. "It's not the first
day I've known you." She turned to watch the people buying
refreshments, and continued, "Actually, she had also asked
about you. I just want to tell you one thing though, in
case... in case you're interested. Unlike me, she'll be
very distressed if you screw her and then sleep with
another girl. Well, I hope she doesn't mind it if it's
me." She turned to Tim and smiled.

"I thought you would, too," Tim said teasingly.

Emma smiled. "Actually," she said softly, "I would.
That's why I always tried to waste you out before you go."
She giggled.

Tim chuckled. "Okay," he said. "Fast screw is over.
Let's get back."

They went back and continued with the game. Tim
participated in another game, and then withdrew again. He
talked with some of the others, but mostly talked with Emma
and Pamela. Tim and Emma excused themselves from the group
when it was midnight.

Emma whispered something to Pamela, and Tim saw the auburn-
haired girl blush. She poked Emma before bidding them
goodnight.

"What did you say to her?" Tim asked on their way out.

"I told her I had to screw you one last time before handing
you over to her," Emma said and giggled.

Tim laughed. He turned to Emma. "Are you going to?" he
asked.

"Well," Emma said, "actually, no." She turned to look in
his eyes, and continued, "I wouldn't have told her if I
had the intention. We had a nice conclusion this morning.
I like it. I'd like to keep it that way, until you come to
Albany and beg me."

"Oh," Tim said.

"Well, Tim," Emma said, "there aren't many guys I've
screwed, and will keep as friends. You're on a very short
list. You should feel honored." She smiled at him.

"I'm honored," Tim said. "In fact, just knowing you and
having you talk with me in this way is an honor."

"Oh," Emma smiled, "should I break my promise and blow you
here?"

"Well, maybe they've fixed the virtual reality game so you
can now take off your clothes," Tim said.

Emma laughed. "Oh yeah," she said, glancing at him. "That
may be better. We've got to hurry. Time's up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan was again working behind the equipment in the corner
of the game room. He raised his head to greet the two
couples, and said, "The developer is apparently working on
some material patches, so there's not many changes from
last time you guys played. All male versus all female, or
couples duel?"

They decided to try a gender duel game. The girls chose to
be fugitives. "Girls like being chased," Emma said,
giggling with Annie.

Then Annie add, "But they don't necessarily like to be
chaste!"

Alan laughed with the guys, then said, "Let's make it
thirty minutes per game." He then helped the players to
put on their gear.

Manus and Tim followed the girls into a medieval town.
They searched, asked the NPC's, went into the forest
outside the town, but they couldn't find them. They were
rather frustrated. Manus was trying to say something, when
a bright red portal showed up in front of them.

"The fugitives have found the secret to eternal freedom.
You have failed your mission," a stern female voice said.

"Damn it," Manus said, and walked into the red portal. Tim
followed him.

They found Annie and Emma sitting at a table in a place
that looked like a vineyard. They were sipping wine, and
smiling happily at the guys. "This game is crazy," Emma
said. "Five bottles to touch down."

"Plus stroking this cat," Annie said, smiling. A big cat
with light brown fur was snuggling in her lap.

They returned to reality in the game room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I guess it's a pairs duel now?" Alan asked them.

His phone rang. Alan picked up the handset, talked briefly,
and then he rose up. "Hang on for a moment," he told them.
"They need me at Room Two now. I'll be right back." He
rushed out of the room.

After a few minutes, Manus took off his gear and got up
from his chair. "I'll go check it out," he said, and he
left the room.

Manus returned a few minutes later. "Some stupid guys mis-
configured some routines. Alan's fixing it now. No biggie,
he's done it million times before," he said.

"Should we wait here or outside?" Tim asked.

"We can start playing," Manus said, as he put on the helmet
and boots and struggled toward the corner. He took his
gloves, but didn't put them on. "I'll play from here," he
continued.

"I doubt if that's a good idea," Tim said. Technically, a
person could be a moderator and player at the same time,
but since a moderator could do anything, he could win every
game easily if he wished.

"Don't worry," Manus said. "I know what I'm doing. By the
way, why don't we try something new? We'll let the
computer assign roles for us. What do you think?"

"Then how do we know whether we're playing as bounty
hunters or fugitives?" Emma asked.

"If you're wearing a red bracelet on your left wrist in the
game, you're the bounty hunter. If you're wearing a blue
bracelet, you're a fugitive," Manus said.

Tim wasn't very comfortable with all these ideas, but he
followed along.

A few moments later, Tim was in the maze again. He looked
at his bracelet. It was red. He was a bounty hunter. He
looked down at his apparel, and found that he was wearing
dark blue sweats and pants. He turned around and saw his
partner looking at her bracelet. She had apparently been
assigned a body from a nice template, as her figure showed
up pretty sharply, even in her loose sweats.

"We're the cops," she said, looking at him. She had a
Boston accent.

"Yeah," Tim said. "Let's go get the criminals."

They started looking for their targets in the maze, without
success. A few minutes later, they were informed by the
game that the fugitives had gone to the 'Double Taker
Paradise'. They followed when a portal was opened for
them, two minutes later.

They were on a beach. Tim looked around and then said to
his partner, "A sign's over there. Let's go take a look."

"It's getting dark," she said, as she followed him toward
the sign standing in the sand.

"Yeah," Tim said. "I didn't realize it had different time
settings, as well." He stepped closer to the sign, and
read what was written on it.

"We're on an isolated island!" she said, in a slightly
daunted voice, when she saw the words on the sign. "No
people to ask!"

"I guess we'll have to look for signs and indications, and
hope it's not a big island," he said.

A while later they found a stream coming down from a forest
on the gentle slope. They went over and saw some wet
footprints.

"They'd been here!" she yelled, as he examined the
direction of the footprints. They were leading to the
forest.

"Let's follow them," he said, and started scooting,
following the footprints.

"Do you have the time?" she asked, slightly panting behind
him. They were inside the forest, and couldn't see the
beach anymore.

Tim checked the bracelet. "We've been here for ten
minutes," he said.

"Footprints have disappeared," she said.

Tim looked around. He was on the left bank of the stream.
If they had crossed the stream, they should have left
footprints behind. He turned to his left. The soil and
grass were dry. "I think they went there," he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's the time?" she asked again, after another little
while. She was panting.

"Twenty five minutes," Tim said. He was also panting.

"I don't think we're going to find them," she said.

"I think you're right," he said. "But we should try for
the rest of the time. Only five minutes left."

They slowed down and continued with their search, without
success. Tim started to think Manus might be taking
advantage of his dual identity to hide his tracks.

He checked the time again. They had been in the game for
thirty one minutes. "Oh no," Tim said to himself, "not
again, not another game crash."

She was also checking her bracelet. "Thirty two minutes!"
she squealed. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "Probably some bugs. Don't
worry, we have the moderator who will get us out fast."

"Damn it!" she sighed, and sat down beside a tree trunk.

Tim walked over and sat down beside her. The sky was
getting darker. They couldn't see more than twenty yards
away.

"I don't like this," she said. Tim couldn't see her face,
but knew her eyes had to be showing some fear.

"Don't worry," Tim calmed her, putting an arm around her
shoulder. "I've been in worst situations before, and I'm
still very alive."

She giggled, and leaned her back on his chest, while
catching her breath.

He put his hands on her arm and stroked gently. He would
have stroked her breasts, if she had not talked about the
conclusion of their sexual relationship earlier that day.

She snuggled closer, and started running her fingers on his
thighs near his knees. Tim started to wonder about her
convictions from earlier on.

"Hmm, I'm feeling a little dozy," she said. She leaned her
entire body against his, and her elbow was almost on his
crotch.

He was starting to get a hard-on. He intuitively ran his
fingers towards her rich breasts. She sighed on contact,
but gave no other indication of approval or denial. She
acted a little different than before. He wondered if the
talks earlier had changed her attitude. He knew he now had
a full hard-on, as he was cupping her fabric covered
breasts and pinching her nipples.

"Goodness," he thought to himself. He could hear her
making low humming noises. "This is really killing me.
Can't remove clothes, can't remove helmets, but have the
sensations."

It was then the sky turned bright all at a sudden. Both of
them raised their hands to shield the abrupt change of
light level from their eyes. When he could see again, he
saw a knight in shinning golden armor on a tall white horse
in front of them. He gaped at the vision.

"Hey, you okay?" the knight asked.

"Yeah, what's the matter?" they said together.

"Let's go back and I'll explain," the knight said. "Wait
here. It'll take a few seconds."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few seconds later, Tim was back in his chair in the
gaming room. A young guy in front of him began helping him
to remove his gear. He turned around, and saw only Annie
was in her chair. Emma wasn't there. He turned his head
to the corner, and saw Alan rising from the seat.

"You're the golden knight?" he asked as he got out of his
chair. "Where's Emma? Where's Manus?"

"Who else would be a golden knight in a modern adventure
game?" Alan said, smiling. Then his face darkened. "You
don't want to know what happened."

"What happened?" Annie showed up beside Tim and asked.
"Where's Manus?"

Alan looked at them, apparently hesitating to let them know.
The young guy who removed their gear had left the room.

Annie looked at Alan, then at Tim. "Oh, no!" she blurted
out at Tim. "It was you?" Her face turned pink rapidly.

"Manus has just been fired," Alan said slowly. "For
misconduct."

"What misconduct?" Annie asked, anxiously.

"He... well, he left the game unattended, which was
actually my fault as well," Alan said. "And the security
guard caught him doing something with a girl in an empty
game room."

"What?" Annie and Tim screamed together.

Alan dropped his head. "Yeah, it's Emma," he said slowly.
"I'm sorry."

Annie fell into a chair. She started to sob.

The air in the room was feeling solid. Tim found it hard
to breathe. He didn't feel bad for Emma, engaging in
intimate activities with another guy. He was just her
friend and former playmate. However, it was very
distressing that she did it with Manus, Annie's boyfriend.
What made it worse was that it had to be Manus' idea, as he
was the only one who could change the team formation, sneak
them out of the game, and find an empty room.

Tim didn't know what to say to Annie. It was probably best
for her to cry her eyes out. He looked at Alan, who was
obviously having the same thought. They went out of the
room together.

"I'm sorry, Tim," Alan said.

"It's okay with me," Tim said. "Emma's not my girlfriend.
She's probably not even my friend anymore. But Annie is
indeed a poor victim."

"Oh," Alan said. "Yeah, she is."

"Were they naked when the guard found them?" Tim asked.

"Yeah," Alan answered briefly.

"What happened to her?" Tim asked.

"They let her put on her clothes, and escorted her out of
the premises," Alan said.

"Who gave the order to fire him?"

"The manager is always on call," Alan said. "I'm the
acting shift supervisor. I called him and reported the
incident. He told me to fire him at once. We don't
tolerate either of his indiscretions."

"Acting?"

"A supervisor quit. I could've been promoted if I'd been
here longer, or had better qualifications. Nevertheless,
the manager recommended that I act in the capacity. I'm
not sure if this incident will screw up my chances," he
said.

"I'm sorry," Tim said.

"Don't worry, buddy," Alan said.

They saw Annie coming out of the door. Her eyes were still
red. She walked toward the exit. Tim bid Alan goodnight
and followed her out.

"I'm sorry about it," Tim said as they walked toward his
car.

"Not your fault," Annie said softly.

He didn't know what to say.

"Sorry for you, too," Annie said.

"She's not my girlfriend," he said. "In fact, our intimate
relationship had ended earlier today. She's going on a
trip tomorrow."

"She broke off with you?"

"No," Tim said, opening the door of his car for her. He
closed it after she had got inside. He went to his side,
got in, and started the engine. "We were never more than
friends who happened to share beds," he continued.

"Sounds rather new to me," Annie said.

Tim took his car into the street. "It would've been better
if I hadn't brought her to the game," he said.

"Well, she couldn't have changed the partners and smuggled
him from the game to an empty room," Annie said.

"Yeah, you're right," he said.

"I suppose earlier is better than later," she sighed.

"Don't worry," Tim said. "You deserve a lot more, and
you'll get it."

"Thanks," Annie said softly. "I hope so, too."

When they were a few miles from Annie's house, she asked
Tim, "Do they sell beer in coffee shops?"

"No," Tim said. "Only pubs and bars." He turned to Annie,
and said, "You shouldn't drink."

"I need to," Annie said.

"Don't you have any beer at home? I suppose your brothers
drink," Tim said.

"Mom doesn't allow any alcohol in the house," she said.

"I'll buy some from a pub and... where are you going to
drink them?"

"I don't know."

"Don't drink then," Tim said. "It won't help."

"It can get me to sleep."

"You'll have a hangover tomorrow morning," he said. "It
hurts like hell."

"I'm already in hell," she said.

Tim sighed, and then thought for a moment. He said to
Annie, "You can have one, and I mean one only, at my house.
Then you either go home or sleep in Deb's bed. How's
that?"

"Your parents won't mind?"

"They're in New York now."

"Okay," Annie said. "Thanks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim took Annie home, and got her a beer. He got one for
himself as well.

"You want to stay in the kitchen?" he asked.

Annie thought for a moment. "Do you still have that
ancient stereo in the family room?" she asked.

Tim chuckled. "Of course," he said. He went into the
family room, turned on the light, and went over to check
which music program it was programmed to play. He turned
it on, and some ancient soft music began filling the room.

Annie came into the family room and sat on the couch,
sipping her beer while listening to the music.

Tim sat in his dad's recliner and drank his beer. Annie
didn't say a word, so Tim didn't say anything either.

"He was the only guy who had said I was pretty," Annie
broke the silence after a while. "I should have known it.
It was just some sweet talk, done for a purpose."

"You know, Annie," Tim said, "you actually are pretty.
You're not movie star material, but you are charming. A
guy should feel extremely lucky to be with you."

Annie smiled at him. "Thanks for the nice words," she said,
"but you had told me something different in the past."

"I've been consistent with you," Tim said. "I've never
said you're pretty like those models or movie stars. But
most of us normal people are normal, and we don't wear
makeup 24/7 and have plastic surgeons changing us all
over."

"Well, you forgot one thing," Annie said.

"What?"

"Even for a bed-sharing friend, you chose a pretty one,"
she said. "And I really mean pretty."

"I've told you, it was pure chance," Tim said. "Yes, she
is pretty, in that sense. However, from the moment we
first met, both of us knew we weren't meant for each other.
She was with me for her needs while she's here, and I took
advantage of her needs for my own."

Annie giggled, "Sounds dirty," she said.

"Not really," Tim said. "She didn't deceive me, and I
never told her I loved her. We had sex for pleasure, not
for love. It's better than ..." He halted.

"Yeah," Annie said. "It's better than telling a girl you
love her and that she's pretty, screw her, then dump her."

"Yeah," he said.

"Can I have another one?" she said, swinging her empty
bottle.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Just one. Just once. Please?"

"What if you still want another after that?"

"Throw me in the dumpster."

Tim laughed. He got another two bottles from the fridge
and shared with Annie. They listened to the music while
having their beer.

"He was my first one," Annie said softly after a while.

"First boyfriend?"

"First boyfriend, first love, first..." she said slowly,
looking at her beer. "First everything."

"Not everyone's first whatever is memorable," he said
slowly. "I haven't seen any of our friends still with
their first love." He thought about his step-sister. She
had most of his firsts, and he was still with her, but in a
different manner. His situation was also special, and
specific to himself.

"He used to be very sweet," she said, as she took another
sip. "Until he started working at VRG. I hate those
games."

He thought for a while before responding. "Sometimes it's
hard to differentiate between what's real and what's
virtually real," he said. "But..." He paused momentarily,
as his mind went back to the game he played with Deborah
two years ago, then continued, "But I suppose if you don't
like something, it's hard to virtually like it, even in
games."

Annie raised her head and looked at the ceiling fan for a
while as she thought about what Tim had said. "I guess
you're right," she said. "I guess even if he hadn't been
to that game, he would've been to other real life games.
The result would be the same. It's just a matter of time.
I've heard that guys don't change."

"Guys do change," Tim said, as he thought of occasional
talks he had with his step-mom. Betty had told him he was
behaving rather differently since he had started working.

Annie thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "Guys
change. But their personalities don't."

"Same for girls," he said. "I assume."

She thought for another moment, then said. "Can I use the
bathroom?"

"Sure," he said, "if you still remember where it is."

"Of course I do," she said. Then she put her bottle on the
coffee table and went to the bathroom.

Tim checked the time while Annie was in the bathroom. It
was already a little before three in the morning. "Do you
need to leave?" he asked her when she came back from the
bathroom. He knew she worked on every Sunday.

Annie thought briefly, and said, "Can I stay a little
longer?" She didn't ask what time it was.

"Sure," he said.

Annie sat down and took another sip of her beer. "You
know," she said, "I can't imagine how I could've survived
the night if I were by myself. I didn't know it hurt so
bad."

Tim didn't know what to say. He knew she was hurt, but
honestly he didn't know how bad. He also felt his bladder
filling up. "I'll use the bathroom," he said. He then
went to the bathroom outside the family room.

When he came back to the family room, Annie was leaning her
head on the top of the back of the couch, staring at the
stationary ceiling fan, and holding her beer at her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Tim said. He stepped closer, and saw a
drop of tear starting to roll down from the corner of her
eye.

She didn't say anything. Another drop of tear was forming
at the corner of her eye.

Tim pulled a sheet of tissue from the box on the corner
table. He passed it to Annie, but she didn't take it. Tim
hesitated briefly, and wiped the tear off her face.

After Tim had wiped off a couple more teardrops from her
face, Annie tilted her head to look at him. "Thanks, Tim,"
she said softly. Her eyes were still wet.

"No problem," Tim said, and sat down beside her.

Annie tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling fan. He
could see a drop of tear begin forming at the corner of her
eye again. He wiped it off her face again.

Annie tilted to look at him again. "Can I borrow a
shoulder?" she said.

Tim leaned over to her, and held her gently in his arms.
Annie started weeping on his shoulder. He patted her
shoulder.

Eventually Annie's weep came to a halt. She still stayed
on Tim's shoulder. A while later she raised her hand and
Tim felt her bottle of beer against his arm. "Please," she
said on his shoulder.

Tim took the bottle from her hand, and leaned forward to
put it on the coffee table. He then leaned back, still
with Annie on her shoulder. Annie moved her hands to his
back. They stayed in that position silently.

"Thanks," Annie whispered after a long while.

"No problem," Tim said.

"Thanks," Annie whispered again. "I actually haven't felt
so comfortable in a long, long time."

Tim smiled into her hair. Annie held herself a little
closer to Tim, and then they resumed their still position
in silence again. A while later, Tim felt her hands
slackening behind him. She seemed to have dozed off.
Tim's eyelids were also becoming heavier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He awakened suddenly when his back hit the cushion, and
Annie fell on top of him. "Sorry," Tim said when he
regained composure. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Sorry, I felt asleep," Annie said, at the same time. She
giggled as she realized both were saying the same thing.

"Do you want to sleep in Deb's bed?" Tim asked.

"Okay," Annie said, then paused briefly and said again,
"Can... Can we stay here?"

Tim didn't feel comfortable the way he was twisted on the
couch, but he didn't object. He shifted a little into a
slightly more comfortable position. Annie crept up a
little to lean her head on his chest. It was still a
rather uncomfortable position. Tim shifted a little again,
and Annie shifted after him.

Tim was almost asleep when Annie's forearm fell loosely
onto his crotch. He nearly jumped. In fact, he could feel
Annie jigging slightly on him. Her hand quickly moved away
from his sensitive area.

"I'm sorry," she said softly after a while.

"Don't worry," he said. Then he realized her breasts were
on his stomach. He could feel her heart pounding. Her
heartbeat seemed to be a little fast.

"I wish I had a figure like the one in the game," she said
slowly after a few moments.

Tim's mind went back to the game he last played. Of course,
he didn't know it was Annie whom he was fondling, or he
wouldn't have done it. His mind went further, and he
wondered what if he knew it was Annie, and she had behaved
in a suggestive manner. His thoughts about their actions
during the game, together with the feel of her breasts on
his waist, were stimulating his instinctive blood rush
again.

"Did you always do that with her in the game?" she asked.

"Do what?" he asked. He had a feeling he knew what she
meant, but wasn't certain. He didn't want to make a
mistake.

"What you did to me before Alan showed up."

He knew his face was heating up. "No," he said, "other
than testing the sensations." He wondered why she was
asking about this.

She giggled. "That's what we did too," she said. "I
didn't feel comfortable when he did it. He asked me to do
it to him, and I refused."

"Why refused?"

"It's a personal thing, you know," she said. "I didn't
feel like we were in a private place while we were in the
game. The environment and atmosphere just wasn't right."

"I see," he said. "Yeah, my mind was also busy thinking
about how to escape, or how to catch the other team."

"Yeah, that's right," she said, pausing for a moment. She
continued, "Why did you do it to me?"

"I didn't know it was you," he said.

She giggled again. "Why did you do it to her?" she changed
the object in her question.

"Well," he said. "The chase was over. We were taking a
rest. We were together, close together, and... Well, you
know, it's like back to home after an exercise."

"How did it feel?"

He thought for a while. "It felt good," he said.

She giggled at his response.

"How did it feel for you?" he asked back.

She shifted a little on him before answering. "Good," she
said. "But embarrassing afterwards."

Tim almost choked on her disclosure. If not for the more
stunning news Alan revealed right after he realized it was
Annie and not Emma he had been fondling, he would have a
hard time facing and talking with Annie. He also knew her
face had to be pink, because his face was heated. He felt
Annie's breath getting more rapid. In addition, he was
surprised to realize that his hands were moving up and down
on her back.

"Actually," she said, "better than when he did it. I
should've known. How stupid!"

Tim stopped stroking her back. "Well," he said, "it's hard
to know with the helmet and computer-assigned body.
Besides, you hadn't really done it other than those times
when you were testing."

"I mean in real life."

"You mean what you felt in the game was better than what
you felt in real life?"

"No," she said, while tucking her head into his chest. "I
mean... I mean your way made me feel better than his way."

Tim was interested to know how Manus did it, but he knew it
was beyond stupidity for him to ask. His mouth got drier
as Annie moved on him again,

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Thursday, July 29, 2004

 

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Monday, July 26, 2004

 

Petite Woman Porn Sex story

THE BABYSITTING DRAMA
by Michael K. Smith


Like every other graduate student in the world, I was perpetually short
of money -- but I never should have gotten involved in babysitting. Especially
not for Prof. Calhoun. I had done several years in the service after finishing
college, so the G.I. Bill paid my larger expenses, but it was never quite
enough. Being older and more experienced than most of the other students in
my seminars, I felt more at ease disagreeing (politely) with my profs and it
was also easier to socialize with them outside of class. Also, my grades were
excellent and my thesis committee was supportive and helpful, so my
reputation as a rising young historian was quite good.
George Calhoun was in his early 40s, a decade and a half older than
me, but still able to identify with the plight of the grad student. He had earned
his doctorate young and was already well respected in his field, so he didn't
feel the need to take himself over-seriously. Outside of class, he encouraged
me to call him by his first name and, with a couple other star students, I had
twice been invited over for cookout dinners and an evening of stimulating
conversation and friendly argument. Mrs. Calhoun, a few years younger than
her husband, was an assistant administrator at the county hospital and was also
very well read and a sharp debater. So it was to be expected that their two
adolescent daughters, Cynthia and Eileen, would be bright and therefore
rebellious.
One spring Wednesday I was chatting with Prof. Calhoun in the
doorway of his minuscule office, up on the top floor of the Social Sciences
Building. The word had come around that he was receiving an award from
some professional association and I wanted to congratulate him... partly, I
admit, for departmental political reasons, but also because he was my favorite
instructor and I was pleased for him. He was obviously pleased with himself
that morning, as well, and he was grinning broadly as he thanked me for my
good wishes.
Then the phone rang on his desk and he stretched over and picked it up
(that's how small the office was). His face fell at whatever he heard and I
couldn't help eavesdropping on his end of the conversation.
"She's what? When did this come up? Well, hell. What about
Sandra, down the block? Oh." He glanced up at me in the doorway and held
up a finger for patience. Then he looked at me again, more closely, and raised
an eyebrow in speculation. "Just a minute, hon."
He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked at me
thoughtfully. "My wife tells me our babysitter for Friday night has had to bail
out at the last minute. And our back-up sitter isn't available, either. This is that
award dinner we're going to in the city...." He cleared his throat.
"Tom, if you already have plans for Friday night, just say so -- but if
not, could we possibly impose on you? You'd be making some extra pocket
money, too."
Eileen was a mature thirteen, but even so, Cynthia was sixteen and
perfectly capable of looking after her sister if necessary; I must have looked
puzzled.
Calhoun explained. "Cyn has some big date for a party, so she won't be
home until late. There've been some burglaries in our area and I really don't
want to leave Eileen by herself. We'd be back sometime around midnight, I
think. By one o'clock, anyway. How does $50 sound for five or six hours of
quiet study time?"
I thought about it. I didn't have a date lined up, which meant probably
TV and a pizza and maybe a science fiction novel (because, whatever Calhoun
thought, I didn't do much studying on Friday nights). Why not? Eileen seemed
like a good kid, the couple times I had chatted with her at their house, and it
wasn't like I would have to change some infant's diapers. And $50 extra in my
pocket wouldn't hurt.
"Yeah, sure." I smiled. "Be happy to help out; I have nothing planned."
Calhoun grinned and made an "O" with his thumb and forefinger as he
turned back to the phone.
"Hon? I just found someone: Tom Green. Right, that's him. My
thought exactly." He nodded as he spoke. "Okay, I'll see you tonight." He hung
up, turned, and thumped me lightly on the arm. "Tom, I really appreciate it!
Babysitters are always at a premium in a college town -- the reliable ones are
all booked up weeks in advance. Umm, we'll be leaving about 7:30; could you
be there a little before then?"
"Sure, no problem." Easy money, I thought.


I showed up on the Calhouns' doorstep Friday evening at 7:15 and
Theresa Calhoun opened the door and motioned me in while she fumbled with
the zipper at the back of her neck. She looked hurried but in control: the
competent manager. I had only seen her in jeans and sweaters on my cook-out
dinner visits. Now she was done up much more elegantly in a rather short
black cocktail dress and medium-high heels that showed off the long curves of
her legs and her very fair complexion. Artful makeup and a French roll in her
hair had transformed her from ordinary-pretty into second-look-striking.
"You look very nice," I said as I set down the two library books I had
brought along as props. She smiled; I was sure she could tell it wasn't an
empty compliment by the eye-tracks I left up and down her body.
"Why, thank you, Tom. C'mon in and I'll re-introduce you to Eileen
and tell her the ground rules." Frankly, I doubted the girls would even
remember me among all their dad's students.
"Eileen, would you come in here, please?" she called into the back of
the house. The TV volume from the den decreased and I heard a long-
suffering adolescent sigh as the sofa springs creaked. The barefoot young girl
who wandered into the living room with her hands jammed into the back
pockets of her tight short-shorts certainly appeared older than thirteen. The
outline of her bra through her cropped T-shirt suggested rapid breast
development and her legs were long and smooth-looking, like her mother's.
Her thick blonde mane was gathered in a rough pony tail and errant strands
brushed her face, half-shading her brilliant blue eyes. She even had an
interesting-looking belly button. In line with her upbringing and academic
environment, there was very little of the gawkiness about her that I generally
associated with kids that age. She was definitely a cutie, on her way to
becoming a beauty.
She stopped abruptly and looked at me in some surprise. "You're the
babysitter?" Her voice sounded more her age -- a musical trill with a little
squeak at the end. "Aren't you one of Dad's graduate students?"
"That's right," I drawled and smiled as I held out my hand. I watched
her rapidly looking me over as she shook my hand; her fingers were long and
slender and her palm was warm from being in her pocket.
Eileen turned her head and called up the stairs. "Cyn? I think you
should come down and meet the New Babysitter." She loaded the two words
with significance. Cynthia appeared on the landing a few seconds later,
peering over the railing with a hairbrush in one hand and a cascade of dark red
hair framing her face.
"Whoa," she said with a grin as she descended the rest of the way,
hurriedly pushing back her hair and straightening a black, sleeveless minidress
with a narrow slit more than halfway down the front. "This sure beats 'Princess
Sandra', huh? Not to mention old Mrs. Appleton!" She grinned sideways at her
mother. "If my date doesn't show up, can he babysit me, too?"
Mrs. Calhoun laughed and winked at me. "I think you're acceptable,
Tom -- but don't let them lock you in the closet, for later!"
"Mo-om!" Eileen blushed but continued to sneak thoughtful looks at
me. Except for the difference in hair color, the two sisters were quite similar in
appearance, though Eileen was already as tall as Cynthia. The younger girl
would become the more statuesque of the two, I thought; maybe the beauty
contest type. Cynthia acted more sophisticated, but only a little. A bouncy
cheerleader, I suspected. She had a nice body and sparkling green eyes to go
with the auburn hair. But she had also been president of her sophomore class
and had been inducted into the National Honor Society a year earlier than
most. (I knew these things because Prof. Calhoun was openly proud of his
daughters and enjoyed relating their latest accomplishments.)
"Eileen," her mother went on, "Mr. Green is doing us a big favor by
standing in tonight. I expect you to behave yourself. And I know you're not a
baby, dear, but I'll feel more comfortable having someone else in the house
with you, okay?"
The girl nodded dutifully and flashed me a half-smile. She apparently
didn't resent her mother's concern for her well-being, nor did she blame me for
it.
Cynthia turned back to the staircase. "Eddie will be here in a minute
and I gotta finish getting ready. Nice to meet you again, Tom!" I guessed she
remembered me after all.
Prof. Calhoun breezed downstairs a minute later, suit coat draped over
his arm to keep it unwrinkled in the car. He pointed out the notepad next to the
phone where he had written the name and number of the hotel where the
ballroom was. His wife rustled up her handbag and handed him his keys.
"Eileen knows she's supposed to hit the sack at 10:00," she added.
"She has a swim meet tomorrow. Cynthia should be in around 11:30, I think,
but you're not responsible for her! And I hope we'll be back about 12:00... give
or take."
"And, Tom--" Calhoun held up a stern finger. "Don't study too
much." He laughed and I grinned. That attitude was one of the reasons I liked
him. They waved as they hurried out the door. I wished them a good evening,
recommended they enjoy their evening out and not hurry back to early, and
listened to their car backing out of the driveway.
I strolled into the den where Eileen was again stretched out on the sofa,
long legs unconsciously on display, watching some action show I didn't
recognize on TV. I sat and leaned back in the easy chair next to the foot-end of
the sofa. I measured those legs with my eye and decided even her toes were
cute. When she glanced my way, I waggled one eyebrow and smiled. She
smiled back and returned her attention to her show -- but I was aware that her
gaze kept wandering back to me.
After a few minutes, Cynthia stuck her head in and stared hard at her
sister. "Eileen, can I see you in the kitchen?" When Eileen looked over at her
in puzzlement, Cynthia crooked her finger and gave her a Look. The younger
girl levered herself off the sofa and padded around the corner.
I didn't try to eavesdrop, but I could hear conspiratorial whispering,
quite a lot of it. Then Cynthia bounced through the doorway. She had added
black hose and heels to her black mini and a metallic gold Chinese-looking
jacket. Huge, jangling gold earrings and blazing red lipstick completed the
drama. But Cynthia was vivacious enough to draw plenty of attention even in
old work clothes.
"My date's here -- I'm gone! See ya later! Oh -- Eileen's making some
popcorn in the microwave." Her smile as she waved goodbye seemed to hint
that there was something she knew that I didn't.
Three minutes later, the microwave bell went off and a moment after
that the aroma of fresh popcorn suffused the house. Then little Eileen
reentered the den with a large steaming bag in one hand and two diet Pepsies
in the other. For a second, I couldn't figure out why she looked different. Then
I realized that the inch or so of bare midriff below her T-shirt had been
widened to at least six inches. Her lower ribcage was fully exposed,
emphasizing the slimness of her waist. She sure didn't have much left in the
way of baby fat. As she reached the sofa, something else registered: her
breasts, which earlier had been stationary, now jiggled and bounced
independently, especially when she bent to sit down. Apparently she had
discarded her bra. What in the world was this kid up to?
She set the two cans on the coffee table, together with the popcorn.
Then she smiled at me again and patted the sofa cushion next to her. So I got
up from the chair and moved over, wondering if little Eileen was trying to
vamp me. I'd play along for now, out of curiosity as much as anything.
Eileen leaned back against the sofa arm and tucked those long legs up
under herself -- toes pointed like a diver, which had to be a deliberate move.
She tried to be unobtrusive when she arched her back, sticking out her tits for
my closer inspection, so I obliged. It was becoming more and more difficult to
think of this girl as "only" thirteen! Her nipples had hardened and made
interesting indentations in the thin cotton of her shirt. With her shoulders
back, the front of the shirt itself had ridden up even farther. Her belly and
diaphragm were tan and flat and I found I had a growing desire to caress that
taut surface with the palm of my hand.
This was going to get out of hand if I wasn't careful! I looked Eileen
straight in the eye and raised both eyebrows. She looked back at me from
under her eyelashes and attempted a sultry smile. But she finally blinked
before I did and then looked down at her lap and blushed.
"Eileen, what is this all about?" I asked as gently as I could. "You're
coming on to me, or you're trying to. I'm flattered, believe me, but I'd like to
know why you're doing this."
Her shoulders slumped as she stole another glance at me. She licked
her lips. I had to strain to hear what she said.
"Tom, I'm thirteen and I don't know how to do any of this stuff! All
my girlfriends have been making out for months now and I've never even
kissed a boy -- not for real. I think they're all still virgins but some of them
told me they've touched a boy's... you know. His penis. And they've let boys
play with their tits and suck on 'em and everything; they said it feels really
nice. They've even let themselves be felt up, ya know? And I've never done
anything!" She was beginning to sniffle now. "I thought maybe I could learn
some of that stuff from you. I mean, you're nice, and you're older, and more
experienced, and everything."
"What's wrong with the boys at school?" I asked.
She made a face. "Oh, the ones I'd like to go out with are already
dating girls two or three years older than me; they think I'm too young. Or too
smart for them. And the boys in my own classes are hopeless: They're all
dweebs who know even less than I do about--" (she gestured at the two of us)
"--this." She twisted her fingers in her lap and looked thoroughly unhappy, but
at least she didn't run out of the room in tears.
It was one of the more interesting problems in my recent life. Had I
been sixteen, I would have assumed Eileen was fourteen, or even fifteen, and I
would have jumped right in. But I had more than a decade on this girl, no
matter how cute she was. What's more, I was responsible to her parents for her
welfare that evening.
On the other hand, my stiffening cock insisted she was a very sexy
female person and argued that age had nothing to do with that. I could imagine
my lips locked on one of those rigid little nipples. I could almost feel those
slender hands sliding up and down my cock. And what might I find behind
those tight denim shorts, where those lovely long legs joined? Ohhhhhh, yeah.
I picked up her hand and held it in mine; on impulse, I stroked the back
of it with one fingertip. Eileen shivered a little.
"I'm older than you by a good bit," I said, "but that doesn't make me
immune to your womanly wiles, Eileen. I get as turned on as any other guy,
and you're definitely having that effect on me! Honey, I'd love to teach you
how to kiss -- and all the rest of it, too. But that would be taking advantage of
you, big time... not to mention what your father would do to me if he found
out."
Eileen sniffed a little. "It wouldn't be taking advantage if I wanted you
to, would it, Tom? And I wouldn't ever tell my father, I promise." Perched
there at the end of the sofa next to me, having confessed her self-conceived
inadequacies, Eileen looked woeful and vulnerable and greatly in need of
comforting. So I got stupid.
Without really thinking about it, I reached out to put my arm around
her shoulder. But her reaction was to move instantly into my embrace,
wrapping her smooth arms around my neck and fastening her hot young mouth
to mine.
I should have immediately, gently, firmly unwrapped her from my
torso, but I didn't. For perhaps two seconds I sat there in startled surprise with
her greedy lips mashed against mine. Her hair was tickling my forehead and
her nipples were burning holes in my chest. My hand, still extended to pat her
shoulder, returned of its own volition to slide up under her shirt and move
slowly up and down the bumps of her spine. I was a goner.
Some part of my mind -- the self-destructive part -- decided that if I
was going to contribute to the delinquency of a minor, it might as well be a
serious contribution. Both my hands began roaming over the bare expanse of
Eileen's back and shoulderblades. She moaned a little and pressed herself
closer to me -- which finally tipped me over sideways on the sofa. She hung
onto my neck and I found myself on my back with an overheated young girl
sprawled across my body. She was straddling my thigh so I bent my knee and
she gripped my leg hard between her own thighs.
The remnants of her T-shirt had gotten rucked up under her armpits
and she let go of my neck and mouth long enough to struggle semi-upright,
braced on her locked elbows. I pulled the shirt over her head and then off each
arm. Her breasts weren't large and probably never would be, but the shallow
arcs they described, suspended there above me, seemed filled with muscular
tension. When I cupped them in my hands, Eileen took a deep breath and the
firm, smooth flesh seemed to press harder against my fingers. Her nipples
stood out, hard and rigid, and when I moved the balls of my thumbs lightly
across them, she trembled and tightened her grip on my leg.
I drew her up my body until I could reach those nipples with my mouth
and I teased one and then the other with only the pressure of my lips and
flickering touch of my tongue.
"Oh, jeeze...." Her voice was small and tight.
Then I sucked a nipple into my mouth, tugging a little at it and
squeezing it lightly between my front teeth. Her head swung in agitation and
her pony tail whipped back and forth. I sucked in as much of that virginal tit as
I could, tasting her girlish ripeness. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she was
biting her lower lip so hard I was afraid she'd draw blood.
My hands moved down the exquisite curve of her lower back and out
over her tense buttocks. I wanted those damned shorts out of the way! Inhaling
her breast strongly one last time, I urged her off me and onto her feet.
"No...," she whimpered, and tried to climb back onto my lap, but I held
her steady -- I had to, she was shaking so -- and got the snap open on her
shorts. She yanked down the zipper and hastily pushed her shorts and blue
cotton panties to the floor and stepped out of them. Her pubic hair was sparse
and blonde and looked beautifully silky.
I went to my knees on the floor and whipped my own shirt off over my
head. Then I grabbed little Eileen by her slender hips and buried my face in
her crotch, thrusting my tongue as far as I could between the outer folds of her
labia. She was already moist and the taste of her was delightful. My hands
moved up and down the backs of her legs, delighting in the creases behind her
knees and in the young muscles of her thighs. Then to her ass, squeezing and
separating her cheeks. Eileen bent over my head with a gasp, her tits brushing
my hair. Her hands moved jerkily over my shoulders. I could hear tiny moans
of building excitement. But I didn't want her to climax yet.
Untangling myself, I eased her onto the carpet with her back propped
against the sofa, sliding her forward and spreading her legs wide apart. Her
pussy gaped and glistened. She knew what I intended (from second-hand
descriptions, I supposed) and hooked her arms behind her knees, spreading
herself even wider. Her eyelids flickered rapidly and her breathing speeded up
even as I settled myself over the steaming center of her. This was something I
knew I was good at, something I could do for Eileen that would give her
shock waves now and would remain in her dreams for weeks.
I began by swabbing my tongue up and down the creases at the tops of
her inner thighs and then grazing for a few minutes in her lovely blondeness. I
moved closer to the center of my target and felt her tremble again with
anticipation. And when I slowly licked the length of her glowing cunt, bottom
to top, she made an "ohhh..." sound in a little-girl tone that made my engorged
cock try to dig a trench in the floor.
I circled around her untried clit with just the tip of my tongue and she
tried to push herself up into my mouth. Her respiration had already speeded
up, but when I fastened my lips on the head of her little pink clit and switched
on the vacuum, she gasped and went rigid with erotic shock. But she hadn't
come yet, because as I continued to suck and to swirl my tongue around that
little bullet, she began sucking in shallow breaths and gasping "oh!" in
between.
I led little Eileen right up to the edge of the cliff and gave her a
ruthless push, nipping lightly at her clit and at the same time pressing a thumb
just into the opening of her twitching ass. She went as rigid as a statue for a
few seconds, except for a high gasping squeal. Her thighs and her belly were
flushed and even her tanned face was bright red. Then she relaxed and
lowered her legs and I smiled up at her. She stared back at me, lying there
between her sprawling legs, the quiet broken only by her labored breathing.
"How was that?" I stroked her smooth thigh and thought about how
nice it was to be the discoverer of a young girl's unexplored body, to be the
one who showed her how great properly-handled sex could be. She was right:
A kid her own age might have been better for her psychologically, but if she
wanted someone with experience and nerve -- a bush pilot, so to speak -- she
had come to the right guy.
"Oh, God, Tom...." She blinked and reached to touch my face. "I didn't
know...."
"Eileen,... I'll bet you've gotten yourself off, haven't you?
Masturbated?"
She looked down and nodded and blushed. I almost couldn't believe it.
The girl was sprawled here naked with my face in her lap, and she was
blushing about what she did on her own time! Truthfully, it made her even
more desirable.
"Have you ever had an orgasm that way?"
She looked at me this time. "Yeah, a couple of times. But nothing like
this, Tom! My God...!"
I sat up crosslegged and thought about what had happened. I was glad I
had given her this new experience for comparison. I hadn't done anything
horrible or irreparable to her, either. Legally, this had been "molestation," I
supposed, but I didn't think it wasn't statutory rape -- and I wasn't about to let
it become that. Nor could Eileen portray herself as the innocent victim (I
hoped).
She didn't move again for several minutes but when she had her breath
back, she cleared her throat and licked her lips. "Are we gonna, um,...?"
"No, Eileen, we're not going to fuck. That would be a very, very bad
idea." I smiled up at her. "Wouldn't it?"
She sighed and smiled back. "Yeah, I guess so. But I don't want to
stop, Tom. What you just did to me was so fantastic... and I want more."
More, huh? Well, so did I, actually. I would have loved to fill her cunt
for her, to feel her legs wrapped around my ribcage, but that was way too
dangerous.
"Could I, um,... could I see you, Tom? I mean, you know, um..." She
shook her fingers in frustration at her own tongue-tied-ness, but she was
staring at the crotch of my jeans and her intent was clear.
I thought about it for,... oh, a tenth of a second, at least. Did I want to
feel Eileen's eyes examining my cock? Jesus.
Under Eileen's fascinated gaze, I leaned back on my elbows, undid my
belt, and unsnapped my jeans. Then I had a thought and paused.
"Eileen,... would you like to do this?"
She hesitated for only a second. Then she scrambled onto her knees
and reached over to tug my zipper down with just her fingertips, like what was
behind it was going to bite her. I watched her shallow breasts jiggle and felt
my cock swelling even more.
The zipper was all the way to the bottom and Eileen looked up at me
questioningly. "Go ahead," I said. "Take my pants off."
Her face got red again as she listened but she hooked her fingers over
my jeans and briefs at the sides and began tugging them downward. I raised
my ass for her but I let her do it all herself. Besides, it was incredibly arousing,
being stripped by a sexy young girl.
She took her time, watching as my pubic hair came into view, licking
her lips as the base of my cock appeared and tried to arch upward. When the
head of it was clear, it sprang up at a stiff angle and Eileen jerked a little and
caught her breath. It was pretty obvious she'd never seen a penis before --
certainly not a rampantly mature specimen.
When my jeans were down almost to my knees, I took over the job;
she seemed too mesmerized to finish. She reached out a hand slowly. I made it
twitch and she jerked her hand back and then giggled nervously. I spread my
legs and her gaze drifted down to my balls like twin lasers. God, she was
making me horny.
Without thinking, I began stroking my cock lightly up and down and
Eileen's eyes got wider. "Tom, would you jerk off for me?" Her voice was hot
and breathy.
"Do you want to see me come?" She nodded. "Tell me, Eileen."
She licked her lips again. "I want to see you come, Tom. I want to
watch you masturbate and come all over the place." Her voice had taken on a
smoky flavor I don't think she was even aware of.
As I began to stroke my cock more attentively, Eileen scooted over
closer to me, stretching herself out on the floor beside my body, hip and thigh
snuggled against me. She spread a hand across my chest and moved it around,
warming my chest muscles and heating other parts of me, too. She watched
closely as my cock got stiffer and tighter than I could ever remember.
I'd had sex with half a dozen women, but even when it was good it was
pretty unremarkable. This situation was very different... showing off for a girl
whose pussy I'd just eaten, a girl of such limited experience (though hardly
innocence). It was her novice status that turned me on as much as anything.
And she was so flatteringly attentive.
Eileen's smooth, warm hand drifted down my chest to my stomach,
then to the edge of my pubic hair, where she wound a few strands around her
finger. Her hand moved farther, to my hip, then my thigh. And then, as I
spread my legs again, she seemed to take a deep breath and let her fingers slip
down to cuddle my balls. The feel of her hand in my crotch was exquisite. I
must have groaned, because she pressed herself closer to me -- I felt her nipple
brushing my side -- and filled her hand with them, stoking the wrinkled skin
with her fingers, squeezing lightly and experimentally, making me completely
crazy.
"Give me your hand, Eileen." I paused, getting short of breath. "Put
your hand on my cock, sweetheart."
Without hesitation, she wrapped her slender fingers around the heated
shaft. I put my hand over hers and squeezed, and then began jerking off again,
moving her hand up and down beneath mine. She began breathing faster, too,
as she felt the veins passing under her fingers. To steady herself, she wrapped
her other arm around my waist and held on tightly. She slid down a little and
cushioned her head on my abdomen.
Looking down at the top of her head, at the blonde ponytail that had
become nearly unfastened, I was struck by a sudden image of her mouth
fastened on my cock. And that was all it took. I could feel the geyser building
deep down inside me. Eileen must have felt my muscles tense because she
tilted my cock back toward her face just as I was about to come.
Maybe she was afraid she'd miss the show if she didn't watch close, but
she needn't have worried. I erupted with such force, I thought for a moment I
was going to rupture something. My hand jerked, urging the fountain upward,
and her hand jerked with it. She was panting hard, almost spastically, and she
squeezed my waist tightly. I watched her toes twitching and her knees
trembling.
And then she leaned back against my chest in a daze and stared into
my face. Her cheeks, her lips, her eyebrows, her chin, her whole, sweet face,
all of it was covered with my semen. Gobs and streamers of it, clinging and
oozing. The bangs above her forehead were matted with it. So were her
eyelashes. When her lips parted, thin tendrils of come stretched between them.
She seemed to have no idea how thick it actually was.
I lay back on the carpet to catch my breath and circled Eileen in the
crook of my arm. She settled back against me but kept her grip on my cock,
connected to it by more semen.
After a few minutes, I realized I really had to take a leak, but I didn't
want to disturb my young companion. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer
and climbed carefully to my feet. Eileen stood up with me but she never let go
of my cock. I slipped my arm around her waist and we made our way to the
half-bath down the hall. I raised the lid and she pointed my penis toward the
center of the bowl, and watched with interest as I relieved the hydraulic
pressure. She aimed me at different parts of the porcelain, smiling while I
emptied the tank. And then she surprised me by giving my dick a careful
shake when I was finished. I wondered where in the world she could have
learned that? At least, she finally turned loose of it after I was -- we were --
finished.
Then I showed her her reflection in the mirror above the sink. "God,"
she said with a small grin. My come had begun to dry, but the effect was still
extraordinarily sexy. A pretty woman's face covered with semen is a turn-on
that only another guy can understand, I suppose. I watched her scrub her face
carefully and thoroughly, and wished she could leave it all there until it just
flaked off by itself.
As we wandered back into the den, I glanced at the clock and did a
double take -- a quarter after ten already. Well, time flies when you're jerking
off, as they say.
"Eileen, it's getting late. Your father said you had a swim meet
tomorrow, I think?"
She hoisted an eyebrow. "Now you're gonna start doing what Dad
said?" But she smiled and bent to gather up her clothes, and I had a nice
profile of a lovely little ass. I sighed, but only inwardly. I was beginning to
return to my senses. I didn't really believe sweet little Eileen would rat me out,
but what in God's name was I doing taking that kind of chance? I could think
of a half-dozen criminal charges just offhand, and shuddered.
I grabbed up my jeans and hurried into them. "C'mon," I said. "I'll tuck
you in." And she preceded me up the stairs, still naked, still displaying a very
nice, slightly jiggly bottom.
In her room, she dug a rather scruffy and very oversized man's dress
shirt out of a pile of clothes on the bed and put it on. "This is a little silly," she
said, "getting dressed for bed."
"Maybe,... but your folks will probably look in on you when they get
home. And how would you explain your bare tits?" That made her grin as she
slid under the covers.
"Gonna kiss me good night?"
In all our tumbling about that evening, I had never actually kissed her,
but I only hesitated for a moment. Her lips tasted sweet and I envied her first
really serious boyfriend.
I flicked off the light and paused in the doorway. "Good night,
sweetheart. Sleep and dream well."
"G'night, Tom. Is it okay if I dream about you?" She shifted under the
covers and I pictured her hand sliding down to her crotch.
"I'm pretty sure I'll be dreaming about you tonight." She sighed in
response and I stepped out and shut the door quietly behind me.
Downstairs, I had to take off my jeans again to put my underwear back
on. As I tied my shoes, the phone went off at my elbow and I thought I was
going to have a heart attack. I had to take a couple of deep breaths before I
could trust myself to pick it up.
"Hello, Tom?" Mrs. Calhoun sounded very relaxed, like she'd had a
couple of drinks, plus wine with dinner. "How're things going? Did Eileen
behave?"
"Sure, no problem," I replied as calmly as I could. "She's in bed and
I'm reading. Did your husband collect his award?"
"Yep -- and very pleased with himself he is, too. A couple of old
chums from his own school days showed up and they want to take us out for a
nightcap. But I know them: It'll turn into reminiscence and professional
gossip, and that means we won't get home till a good deal later. Would that be
okay? We'll pay you for the extra time, of course."
"Sure, take your time, Mrs. Calhoun. Enjoy yourselves; it's a special
occasion and all. If it gets too quiet around here, I'll just sack out on the
couch." And the meter's running, I thought.
"Well, we ought to make it by three o'clock or so. Good thing
tomorrow's Saturday. I don't exactly know when Cynthia will show up, but she
has 'late permission' anyway."
Yeah, I'd almost forgotten about Older Sister. "Have fun, then. Don't
worry -- I'll look after things." If only she knew just what I'd been looking
after!


After we'd hung up, I watched Masterpiece Theatre and ate the cold
popcorn and drank the warm Pepsi. At 11:00, I wandered out to the kitchen
and investigated the freezer, where I discovered a carton of Ham-and-Swiss
Hot Pockets. Just the thing for a late snack. There was nothing else on TV that
evening except professional wrestling, which I can't abide. Maybe I would
actually have to study a little.
But as I waited for the microwave to do its thing, I heard the front door
open and shut rather forcefully. Sticking my head around the corner, I watched
Cynthia throw her purse rather emphatically on the sofa. As she shrugged out
of her coat with her back to me, I said "Aren't you home kind of early?"
Her arms were caught in the sleeves and she squeaked and jumped and
spun around all at once, and almost fell on her ass. "God, Tom! I forgot you
were here!" She dropped her coat and pressed one hand against her
breastbone.
"Are you okay?" She looked upset and a little angry. "Did something
happen?"
"No..." She waved her arms around a little and then sat with a thump
on the sofa. "...but only because I didn't let it." She sighed deeply and
dramatically, then balled up her fists and thumped her knees. "That son of a
bitch!" She kept her voice down but she still sounded pissed.
At that point, the microwave dinged and I went and rescued my
snack. When I returned to the living room, Cynthia had her elbows on her
knees and her chin in her cupped hands. Her black heels were off and her
stockinged toes were turned in, and -- except for the sexy clothes -- she looked
about twelve.
I sat down beside her and she leaned back and sniffed at the aroma of
hot ham and cheese. I took the hint. "Wanna split this?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "I didn't get a chance to eat after the
party," she said while I tried to break the thing in two without dripping the
contents on the carpet. "We were supposed to go out for a late supper with
some other guys but I, um, left early."
Cynthia may have been upset but it hadn't hurt her appetite and she
wolfed her half of the Hot Pocket in about four bites. Then she licked the
crumbs and grease off her fingers with the tip of a little pink tongue while I
consumed my share more slowly. She stretched her arms over her head and
arched her back, which also lifted her breasts in a very appealing profile. The
gold tunic shimmered dramatically. "I wish Jennifer was home already so I
could tell her about tonight,... but she's still at the party, I think."
"Well,... you could tell me about it if you like." I shrugged. "I've played
father confessor before."
"Oh, this is all just girl stuff," she laughed. "Kid stuff, really. You don't
want to hear about it." Kid stuff? Did that make me a old geezer?
"Try me," I said. "I had a kid sister -- who's now older than you, I
admit -- and she used to tell me her problems. Mom never had time and Dad
wasn't very interested. You'd be surprised how much 'girl stuff' I listened to
over the years."
Cynthia considered it and raised a shoulder diffidently. "You sure you
wouldn't mind? I'd sure like to tell someone about this evening. He's such a
putz," she added.
She turned around sideways with one ankle tucked under her ass, so I
did the same, but less gracefully, and studied the way her miniskirt had ridden
up even farther, if that were possible.
"Okay," she began with a getting-down-to-it air, "there're these guys in
my class whose families have money, okay? I mean major money, like their
fathers are CEOs or whatever. And they compete over everything: Clothes,
cars, how pretty their girlfriends are -- everything. And they sort of take turns
giving parties and try to out-do each other, okay?"
"Sounds like party time for the junior class," I observed.
She grinned. "Yeah, usually it is. They keep fighting this party-duel
and everyone gets to stoke up on food and drink at their expense. Usually they
just play CDs but sometimes one of them will even hire a band for a really big
blowout kind of party -- which is what it was tonight. The guy's father just
bought Taiwan or something. So there was plenty of food and beer and even--
" She stopped short and eyed me.
"And even grass, maybe? And vodka?" I patted her knee. "I won't tell
on you, Cynthia. I mean, you don't look stoned or anything."
"No, I have a couple or three beers at parties but I stay away from the
drugs. But my folks don't know about that stuff." She paused again. "I don't
think they do, anyway."
I motioned to her to continue. I could remember some pretty crazy
parties myself, and not in the distant past, either.
"Okay, so anyway, it was a big, fancy-dress thing and the girls were all
turned out loaded for tiger, and none of the guys even threw up -- not in front
of anyone else, anyway. And it was all going pretty good. And then Eddie and
I went back to one of the guest rooms, um,... looking for someplace to be
alone for awhile, you know?" Her cheeks turned a delightful pink.
"We weren't going to do anything, really -- I mean, we never do, not
really. We just make out and stuff, okay?"
"It's okay with me," I said solemnly. She grinned and turned a bit
pinker.
"Anyway, Eddie had been nibbling at the booze. He really shouldn't do
that when he has to drive me home, I know, but it was a party and
everything. Anyway, we sat on the bed and made out for awhile and it was all
very nice and everything. It almost always is with Eddie. He's a very good
kisser," she added. "But I guess he'd had too much. When it was time to stop,
he didn't want to. He locked the door and he said he wanted to take my clothes
off."
The pace of Cynthia's recitation had accelerated and her voice was
becoming a bit shaky. "He said it was time we did something more than we
usually did. Well, I wasn't going to do that and I told him so, and I told him to
unlock the door and stop being an asshole. Well, he already had his hands,
um,..." She stopped and turned bright red, wondering how to continue. "My,
um, my skirt was kind of pushed up, I guess. But anyway," she went on with a
rush, "he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. I mean, I've seen it
before, actually, but--" She shook her head and gave me a kind of pleading
look, as if she didn't think I would understand.
"I just didn't want to, Tom. See?" She folded her hands in her lap
and studied them. "I'm still a virgin and I plan to stay that way for awhile.
Eddie's very nice -- usually. And he's lots of fun, and a good dancer, and I like
being with him. But I'm not going to sleep with him. If we're still going
together when we get out of high school, maybe I'll do it with him then. But
that's more than a year away. I'm just not going to do it now."
She looked at me again and I was taken with just how pretty she was.
Sexy, too. I could see her in my mind's eye, a set of male teenage hands under
that short skirt, squeezing her ass. As if she'd been reading my mind, she
shrugged off the gold jacket. The tiny button at the top of her minidress, which
had been holding that long, narrow slit closed, had come undone and the lacy
black material gaped open. Cynthia was either unaware of it or was ignoring
it.
"Okay," I said casually, "you let him know you weren't going to fuck
him, but he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer? Is that it?"
"Uh, yes, I guess so." She seemed a bit taken aback at my direct
language. "He grabbed at my panties and tried to pull them off, but he'd had
too much to drink. I shoved him away, hard, and he fell off the bed. And I got
up and left. I had to get one of my friends and her boyfriend to give me a lift
home. She, my friend, says Eddie will be sorry on Monday when he's sobered
up and she's sure he'll apologize. Well, he'd better!" She huffed a little and
then got a thoughtful look. "You know, he tore my panties, too; I ought to
make him buy me some new ones."
"Sounds like 'the hair of the dog to me'."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. If Eddie actually is a nice guy when he's not drunk, I'm
sure your friend is right. He'll regret what happened and apologize. I'm sure he
wouldn't want to lose you. In fact, he'd have to be crazy to turn loose of you."
She looked a little embarrassed but pleased. "What I've been thinking
about, though," she continued, "is whether Eddie might be right. We've been
going together for almost a year. Maybe I should be ready to do something
besides just making out." She looked at me from the corner of her eye, peering
around a lock of that rich, red hair.
"Hey. it's entirely up to you, Cynthia. No one can tell you when you're
ready for that except you, yourself. It comes to different people at different
ages."
"Um. How old were you, Tom? The first time you had sex?" She was
twisting her hair around her finger now, and looking suddenly interested.
"Younger than you and Eddie. But I got lucky, as they say. And I had
an older woman to help me."
"Older? How much older?"
"Quite a bit older. You sure you want to hear this?"
She smiled a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm interested. Really. Besides, I
told you, didn't I?" She settled herself more comfortably and I was aware of
the crotch of her black pantyhose just barely out of sight between her
widespread thighs.
"Well, when I was fifteen, my mother had this friend named Mrs.
Malone, and I mowed her yard twice a month for an entire summer. Small
mower, big yard; it took me hours and hours and I got thoroughly fed up with
it, but I needed the pocket money. Mrs. Malone was a few years younger than
my Mom -- in her early thirties, I guess. She seemed a lot older at the time."
Cynthia smiled and nodded her head; thirty would be a lifetime away to her
right now.
"This one particular Saturday afternoon, must have been August, it was
hot as hell and as humid as the Amazon. I was just wearing an old pair of track
shorts, too tight and too short, and my sneakers. It was too clammy even for
underwear. As I pushed that old mower up and down the back yard, I was
thinking about this girl I had the hots for, and I had a bulge in my profile."
Cynthia gave me a blank look. "I had a hard-on. An erection. I was vaguely
aware of the tip of it peeking out the bottom of my shorts. But I was alone and
lost in my thoughts about that girl."
I caught Cynthia glancing thoughtfully at the crotch of my jeans. I
could feel a certain amount of expansion there, as a matter of fact.
"And then, suddenly, Mrs. Malone touched me on the shoulder. I
jumped and nearly fell over the mower -- kind of like you did earlier,
Cynthia." She grinned very prettily. "When I turned around," I continued, "I
could smell margaritas on her breath and she was staring at my crotch. She
said she'd come out to see how I was doing, but she could see that I was doing
just fine. And she put her hand on my cock, through my shorts."
Cynthia seemed mesmerized as she unconsciously licked her lips. I
remembered Eileen's similar expression earlier in the evening. And it was all a
lie, of course. I'd lost my virginity at eighteen, as a college freshman, and it
wasn't a particularly memorable event, either. This yarn I was spinning for
Cynthia was based on a story I'd read online recently and I was making up the
rest of it as I went along.
Why was I doing it? Just to see what kind of reaction I could get out of
her, I suppose. It wasn't a very nice thing to do, but I was becoming
profoundly horny, so I went on.
"No girl had ever touched me like that, and certainly no grown woman.
I remember, it felt like sticking my dick in a light socket. And then she took
me back inside, and before I knew what was happening, Mrs. Malone was on
her back on the kitchen table with her legs in the air and my shorts were on the
floor."
I stole another glance at Cynthia: Her eyes were wide and her lips were
parted, and I began to suspect she'd been more than half willing to let Eddie do
what he wanted to at the party.
I wasn't sure whether to complete the story or just let Cynthia draw her
own conclusions, but she took care of that.
"So-- Did you do it?"
"You mean, did I fuck her?" Cynthia didn't even twitch.
"A horny fifteen-year-old, presented with his first bare pussy and a
very explicit invitation? Yes, of course, I did it. Several times."
Cynthia let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Wow.... So, did the two of you, like, have an affair, or what?"
"Nope. It was sex, pure and simple. Well, simple, anyway. Wham,
bam, thank you, ma'am. Except in this case, she sort of did the whamming.
The next time I saw Mrs. Malone, a week or so later at the grocery, she was
just my mother's friend again. I like to think there was a bit of a gleam in her
eye, though."
Cynthia sat quietly for a few moments, then looked me square in the
eye. "Tom,... you didn't feel guilty or anything?"
"No. No guilt. It was just sex-for-fun, Cynthia. There's nothing wrong
with that. I mean, sex with someone you love is terrific -- or so they tell me.
But that doesn't mean you can't have sex just for the uncomplicated pleasure
of it. It feels good, right? It sure felt good with Mrs. Malone. And it didn't hurt
anyone -- so why not? Unless you have religious scruples, of course...."
Cynthia shook her head slowly. "No, it's not that. I just didn't want to
do it with Eddie -- not tonight, not in that guest room. But I have nothing
against sex." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm just not experienced enough at it to
not feel guilty about it."
I had to grin at that one. "Like not being able to find work without
experience, and vice versa?" She smiled back. "Cynthia, if you have no fear of
AIDS -- and AIDS hadn't showed up yet, back when I was making it with Mrs.
Malone -- and you don't have to worry about other sexual diseases, or about
getting pregnant, and if you like the guy well enough,... and if you just plain
wanna get your ashes hauled--!" This time she giggled. "And if -- finally, but
very important -- you're reasonably sure the guy you have in mind won't talk it
around to all his friends afterwards,... well, why shouldn't you?"
I don't know what sort of response I expected, but it wasn't what she
gave me. "Tom, I think you're trying to get into my pants yourself!" But she
was laughing so I joined in.
"Well, no,... or not necessarily, I guess. You're a very pretty girl,
Cynthia, and I'm not blind. But making it with you could have ramifications in
my relationship with your esteemed father." I was trying to keep in mind that
I'd put myself in serious jeopardy once that evening already.
"We couldn't do anything anyway, you know; it's almost midnight and
my folks will be home any time now." She grinned mischievously. So I
grinned back while I told her of the delay in her parents' return.
She raised her eyebrows and tucked an arm behind her head. The slit in
the front of her dress widened to display a long vee of pale, smooth-looking
skin. And no bra that I could see.
"Well,..." She affected a slow drawl, secure in the knowledge that I
wasn't the rapist type. "I'm not going to fuck you, either, Tom. Not tonight.
But I'm going to keep it in mind, I promise." She gave me a very warm stare
that began at eye-level and traveled down my front to my crotch. I could feel
my cock twitching mindlessly and I knew she could probably see it.
"But do you 'spose," she went on, "that I could see this, um, organ that
got poor Mrs. Malone so excited?"
"Excuse me?" Talk about deja vu all over again.
"Would you show me your penis, Tom? Your dick? I can see it there,
getting hard." She was getting downright sultry. "I won't even touch, I
promise."
How could I deny a request like that? I unsnapped my jeans for the
second time that evening but I had to stand up to get them down past my hips.
Cynthia took hold of the sides of my jeans at that point, urging me to stand
right in front of her, and worked them down to my thighs herself. My cock
popped out and up and she grabbed it reflexively. Then she looked up at me in
coy apology.
"Oops. I touched it. Sorry, Tom." She grinned at my moan. Her hand
felt very nice indeed as she began stroking my cock slowly up and down. She
was gripping it rather tightly, showing no hesitation at all; it was obvious she'd
done this many times before. The friction of her smooth little hand was
exquisite and I thought it was no wonder that poor Eddie was so hung up on
this girl.
After a minute of so of that, I got a bit reckless: I bent over and lifted
the shoulders of her minidress and whispered "Take this off, please? I'd like to
see you, too, Cynthia."
She let go of me for a moment, raised her ass to free her dress, and
whisked it off over her head in one motion. She leaned back against the sofa
cushion so I get an eyeful: Black pantyhose, black bikini panties, and nothing
else. Her breasts were larger than her sister's and so were her nipples, which
already stood up stiffly.
Cynthia reached out and took hold of my penis again and drew me
closer. I put my knees on the edge of the sofa and leaned forward, wondering
what she had in mind but completely willing to let her have her own way.
When my cock was an inch or two from her face, she raised it
vertically, stuck out her tongue, and licked a wet stripe up the whole length of
it. I shuddered at the sensation and closed my eyes. Her red lips closed around
the head and her wet little tongue scoured it, round and round. I put my hands
on the back of the sofa and leaned forward a little more, wanting her to engulf
the whole thing but trying not to strangle her with it.
She glanced up once, then apparently decided to trust me not to hurt
her, because she let go of my cock as she began taking in more and more of it,
and began squeezing my ass with both hands. I buried my fingers in that
lovely red hair as I felt her nipples brushing my thighs, and her fingertips
passing lightly over my asshole, and her tongue moving up and down the shaft
of my cock.
It felt like this went on for hours but it couldn't have been more than
five minutes or so, because I could never have lasted longer than that. But
when I felt the pressure building up in my testicles, I tapped a finger against
her cheek in warning.
"Cynthia? I'm gonna come now, so..." But she just inhaled me deeper
and sucked harder, so I began sliding in and out of her mouth, as much as
she'd let me, and felt the climax coming nearer.
She must have been timing it, too, because just as I reached the tip-
over point, she reached between my legs, cupped my balls in her hand, and
squeezed medium-hard. That made me jerk and explode in her mouth with a
force I'd seldom experienced. She sucked and swallowed and I came and
jerked and came again, and she rolled my balls in her hand, squeezing and
tugging.
At last, I drew back and leaned over her, resting my elbows on the
back of the sofa while I caught my breath. She sucked in the air and stroked
the inside of my thigh to let me know she was okay.
"Tom?" I looked down to see a radiant smile with a trickle of semen on
it. "I'll be graduating in a little over a year, and I'm probably going off to
school somewhere other than here. Maybe we could make a date for the fall of
my freshman year, wherever I end up? If you still want to sleep with me, that
is."
I stroked her hair and clumsily collapsed beside her on the sofa, my
jeans still around my knees. "Oh, I think I can guarantee that. But I'll be a year
older, too. Wait and see if you still want to make it with an old guy by then,
okay?"
She smiled again. "Not a problem. I promise." She reached over and
gave my shriveling cock a parting squeeze. I reached up and wiped the semen
from her lip with my finger and she immediately stuck the finger in her mouth
and sucked it clean. Wow.


Twenty minutes later, Cynthia had gathered up her clothes and climbed
the stairs to her room. I didn't go along to tuck her in, this time. As I
straightened up the den, I thought about the two sisters in neighboring
bedrooms, so different and so similar -- and so unbelievably hot.
The Calhouns finally got home about 3:30 in the morning, full of
apologies for their tardiness. I'd actually dozed off until they pulled into the
driveway, having been exhausted by the evening's athletics. As I made my way
home with a larger-than-expected stack of bills in my pocket, I hoped
wherever Cynthia went to school was near enough for me to travel to. And I
considered what Eileen might be like in three or four more years. Of course,
I'd be completely of her league by then, but she'd be interesting to watch.
Where did their lustful genes come from, I wondered? Dr. Calhoun
didn't quite seem the type. Their mother, perhaps? There were fewer years
between Theresa Calhoun and me than there were between myself and
Cynthia. I wondered. When I finished my degree in a year or two, maybe I
should see about a teaching position right here....


END


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1998 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted
elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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