Steve stood on the porch watching Carrie’s hips sway as she walked away from the house and onto the beach. The bright red bikini bottom rode up between her tan cheeks in a way that made Steve want to say something crude and nasty. He was mindful though, of Carrie’s little sister, Marsha, also on the porch, so he went for information, instead. “So what did she say?”
“She said it was boring.”
“She told you that?” He didn’t understand why Marsha sounded so smug. “Damn! I thought it was great.”
“And she was going to stick to college boys from now on, because they know more.”
Steve held his hand over his eyes to cut down on the glare from the afternoon sun. “Bunch of college twerps. What do they know? Like they take classes on it, or something.”
He heard Marsha slurp her Popsicle, then say, “And she said you’re selfish.”
His head shook in disbelief. “So that’s it? I’m never going to see her again?”
“Did you think you were going to marry her?”
“No,” he said, turning to see Marsha sitting on the porch railing, her blue, one piece bathing suit clinging to her shapeless, thin body. “But I thought I was going to get to… see her again.”
“You should move on.” Marsha punctuated her sentences with slurps. “She’s over you. I could fix you up.”
Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Carrie, even though she was a good distance away. “With who?”
“Someone. Like Carrie. Only she doesn’t expect you to know everything.”
“Hey, I know plenty.” Steve looked at her askance, “What’s she look like?”
“Kinda cute.” Slurp. “Way smarter than Carrie. But not as picky.”
“That sounds like one of those ugly as sin, but with a great personality, girls. I’m not interested.”
“Suit yourself. She gives great blow jobs, though.” Slurp. “Legendary.”
Carrie had gotten too far down the beach to make out her bikini any longer, so Steve turned to Marsha. She was chewing the top off the Popsicle as she moved from the railing to one of the chaise lounges, and stretched out with one hand behind her head. Her long legs were tan, and her blond hair was pulled into a tight pony tail.
“You have got some mouth for a thirteen-year-old. How do you know this chick gives legendary blow jobs?”
“I’ve seen it. It’s amazing.”
Steve looked back to the beach once more, grunted at what he was loosing, then said, “So, how do I meet this ugly, legendary blow jobber?”
“She’s not ugly. And she’s here. Come upstairs.” Marsha scraped the last of the multi-colored ice off with her teeth, and let the empty wooden stick dangle from her mouth as she stood up.
“I thought you and your sister were here alone this afternoon?”
“Come up and meet her,” Marsha said, and opened the screen door. Steve shrugged, and followed Marsha into the house, and up the stairs. Marsha held one of the bedroom doors open, and Steve went in. The room was large, sparsely furnished in the way of summer rentals, with only a bed and a dresser. It was almost identical to Carrie’s room. The sun flashed around the flimsy curtains swaying to a breeze. Realizing no one was in the room, Steve turned just as Marsha closed the door behind her. She took a pillow from the bed and dropped it at Steve’s feet before kneeling down on it, and looking up. She set the stick on the floor beside her, and licked her lips, still purplish from the multicolored Popsicle.
Steve took in the sight for a second, then said, “Very funny, you got me. I’m sure you and Carrie will have a good laugh over this one. Thanks a fucking lot.”
“I’m not kidding.”
It was about as serious a look as Steve had ever seen on her. Steve’s face slowly twisted into a mixture of anger and incredulity. “Do I look like a child molester? Get the fuck away from me.”
“You like blow jobs. Carrie said you begged her. What’s the difference who gives it?”
“The difference is when the person who gives it has tits, it’s a turn on. When it’s a little girl, it’s just… weird. And illegal, and… very weird.”
“It will be legendary, I promise.”
“Have you ever given one before? I’ll bet you haven’t.”
“Sure I have, lots of times.”
“Is that so? Well, do you spit or swallow?”
Marsha looked puzzled, “What does Carrie do?”
“Spits, of course,” Steve said.
“Then I swallow.”
“Really? Tell me, what does it taste like?”
“It tastes like… like honey.”
Steve burst into laughter, “Honey! That’s a good one. You are so full of shit, those blue eyes of yours are going to turn brown.”
Marsha folded her arms and looked at him crossly. “Well, what does it taste like to you?”
“To me? How the fuck should I know? But I’ve had plenty of blow jobs, and no girl has ever said it tasted like honey.”
“It does to me,” she said indignantly. Then her face morphed into a smug, teasing expression that didn’t look quite right on her. “And the more of it there is, the sweeter it tastes.”
Her words caught Steve up. “Did your sister teach you to say that? Cause she could say things that…”
Marsha hooked her finger onto the front pocket of his jeans and pulled down slightly, “I’ll bet you have a lot. Maybe you can turn my blue eyes white.”
Steve was embarrassed and aroused. “That was a very dirty thing for a little girl to say.” He suddenly wanted to say something equally nasty to her in return, but held back.
Marsha smiled, and Steve could tell she knew the affect her words were having on him. “Do you like dirty little girls?” she teased.
“No,” he said firmly. But when she hooked the other finger onto the other pocket, pulling more, he gulped and whispered, “Say that part about how I have a lot of it, and how good it tastes,” he said. “Say that.”
A big smile brightened Marsha’s face as she said, “I want a big load of your sweet come. Please.”
Steve paused to think, then decided thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. Thinking had never helped him much before. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re not going to feel bad about it afterward and tell somebody, are you?”
“Seal my lips with your honey,” Marsha said.
“Oh, you little slut. Okay, here it is,” he said, unzipping his pants, pulling his dick out, and wagging it near her face. “Get your honey, Honey.”
Marsha reached for his offered member with both hands, put the tip in her mouth and blew lightly. After a couple of blows, Steve said, “Holy shit, you are actually blowing on me. I knew you had never done this before.”
She stopped blowing, but continued squeezing it with both hands. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s not what you do,” he growled in exasperation.
“It got all stiff. How do you do blow jobs?”
“I don’t do blow jobs. I get blow jobs, and you don’t blow. You suck.”
“Why do they call it…”
“Never mind. Now that you’ve got me all wound up, suck on it,” he said, pointing angrily.
Marsha returned the tip to her mouth and sucked like a straw until Steve pulled away. “Look, I’ll tell you what to do. Pretend it’s like that Popsicle you just had. Lick it up and down, suck just enough to get the juice off, but don’t bite. In fact, pretend it’s the last Popsicle on earth and you want to make it last, so you lick and suck until there is nothing left but the stick, and you swallow every drop.”
After listening carefully, Marsha began. Steve was surprised at how well she followed his instructions, and he congratulated himself on what a good idea it was to tell her to pretend it was a Popsicle. He liked being the one who had taught her what to do. Not at all like the way he felt with Carrie when she called him an idiot because he didn’t finger her the way she wanted.
Her narrow jaw was smooth and delicate as he held it lightly with one hand and brushed lose strands of hair out of her face with the other. She was pretty cute, he thought, with his dick in her mouth and her cheeks bulging as she made like a kid eating a treat. And she wanted him. She wasn’t letting him, she wasn’t just allowing him, she wasn’t impatiently thinking about college boys. He could feel how much she wanted him in the way she clutched his butt with one hand and squeezed his dick into her mouth with the other.
It was that cute face full of dick, the desire he felt in her hands, and the way she rubbed against the tip like she was trying to melt cold ice with her hot tongue that brought him to the edge and made him want to say something dirty. “Suck on me, you little whore. Suck until you get all my honey.” This spurred her on, and Marsha worked him with more enthusiasm than any girl ever had. For the first time in his life Steve felt like he had something a girl really wanted, and he wanted to give it to Marsha more than he had ever wanted to give anything to anyone. He believed, at that moment, if he could produce something worthwhile for this beautiful little girl, his life would finally mean something. All of the mistakes, the failure in school, the lost jobs, everything that he had fucked up in his life would be put right if he could satisfy Marsha’s thirst for him.
He started to groan, not just with the impending relief of tension, but with the ecstasy of knowing he was going to pour the very essence his being into Marsha’s core, and that inside her, his ugly self would merge with her youthful soul and be renewed. He pulled her head onto him and came hard, thrusting, arching his back and raising his heels off the floor. He wished he could see it surging into her mouth as Marsha’s eyes bulged and she gulped loudly in surprise. After a few more ragged thrusts, Steve shrank to his knees in front of her, and pulled her jaw down with his thumb looking for the evidence, looking for the only valuable thing he had ever produced in his life. It was gone.
Marsha licked her lips, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth, smiled and kissed him again. Steve stared through the blue of her eyes looking for his different self, for the better man that would emerge now that she had taken in a part of him.
“Well,” she said, still licking her lips, “Was it legendary?”
Steve was still breathing heavily. “Yes… It was… You have no idea…” As he continued to stare into her wide eyes, he could see that she was only a child, exuberant and hopeful, but incapable of remaking his shredded life. No one could do that.
Marsha seemed very happy with her accomplishment as she squeezed and kissed him again. “What’s next?” she asked.
“Next?” Steve untangled himself from her. “I should get the hell out of here before someone finds out, and I go to jail.”
“When will I see you again?”
Steve stood, tucked himself back in and zipped up. “Never. That’s it for us, Marsha.”
“You said it was legendary,” she said, the hurt evident on her face.
“The whole time I was thinking about your sister’s tits,” he said. “Because you don’t have any.” He felt bad about the lie, but he could never explain what he really felt while she was on him. He couldn’t tell anyone about the stupid, desperate longing that clawed at his heart. Steve turned and opened the door, determined to get as far away from Marsha as possible.
Marsha said, “I’ll tell.”
“Whoa, now wait a minute. You said you were okay with this, that you wouldn’t tell.”
“I want you to come to my room tonight when everyone is asleep, just like you did with Carrie.”
“What for?”
“I want you to kiss me some more,” she said. “Like you did just now, like you like me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Like you like me more than my sister. And I want you to eat me down there.”
Steve jabbed his finger in her direction. “No, no. I don’t do that. That’s for lesbos. Find one of your girlfriends to do that.”
“I’ll tell you what to do,” she said confidently, ignoring his refusal. “I want you to pretend it’s an ice-cream cone, and lick and lick until it is all gone. Only it is not just any ice cream cone, it’s the last ice cream cone on earth, and you want it to last. And I want you to tell me it tastes like honey.”
“Fuck,” he said. He was sure Carrie had instructed her little sister in how to trap him, probably told her to blow, too, to make sure neither of them were satisfied. That was just like Carrie, but Marsha was so young and naïve she actually believed Steve had something worthwhile to give her. Steve knew he didn’t, of course, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying, because he wanted to believe he did. He also knew he would return every night to that darling, earnest face to come in her mouth or her cunt or her ass until he was arrested and put away forever. His only hope of renewal was a sure path to destruction. “I taught you how to suck dick,” he said. “You should be more grateful.”
Marsha stood and reached her slender arms for his neck, and made him bend down to kiss her. “Around midnight,” she said. “I’ll leave the window open.”