I woke up Sunday morning with him wrapped all around me. It was beautiful.

And, yes, as I had hoped, I did wake up before he did. Now, how to get myself out of his arms and down where I wanted to be without him waking up? Well, very carefully, I suppose! I very gently took his top arm and very gently moved it from around my waist, putting it on his side. His top leg was around mine, too. That was a little trickier. I kind of gently nudged it with my leg. Luckily, it moved—in fact, he slipped so that he was more on his back—and he still hadn’t woken up.

Perfect!

I crawled down between his legs, and gently nudged at his fairly flaccid dick with my tongue. It quickly became far less flaccid. And he was still asleep!

I had only done this for a minute, at the end, yesterday—and I wanted to do it for real. So, as soon as it got semi-hard, I slurped it into my mouth. Believe me, I had absolutely no fucking idea what I was doing. It’s a good thing I’d seen this done a number of times during Program relief sessions, or I would’ve been even more clueless. But, whatever I was doing, it was working—because I felt it growing inside my mouth. Oh, what a great feeling that was! I bobbed up and down on it and felt it get bigger with every stroke.

"Hmmmm?" I heard from the top of the bed. I just looked up at him, his dick in my mouth. "Oh JESUS!" he cried, suddenly becoming fully awake. His head came off the pillow and he stared down at me. I just winked at him and went back to sucking his dick. He groaned as his head flopped back onto the pillow.

He was at full staff now, warm and wet in my mouth. It was almost too big, as it kept hitting the back of my throat every time I plunged down on it. I didn’t really mind, though. His hands reached up to me and ran through my hair.

Oh, God, I was making myself so wet doing this! As that thought hit me, I felt the first squirt hit the back of my throat. I eased off a bit, so that the rest came on my tongue. I wanted to taste it. I guess I like the taste of cum. Amazing.

After I had sucked him dry, and cleaned him off, he groaned. I looked up at him and said, "Good morning."

"Yes it is, isn’t it," he grinned back at me. "That was incredible."

"I know, aren’t I?" I giggled. I crawled up beside him.

"Give me a minute to breathe and I’ll repay the favor."

"Repay?"

"Just wait." He leaned over to kiss me, but, before he did, I warned him—by sticking my tongue out at him. It still had cum on it. He looked at me in shock, I pulled my tongue back in my mouth and went, "Mmmmmmmmmm!" He just grinned at me.

"Now can I kiss you," he asked?

"Please," I said, so he did. "Oh, what a night!" I said after he broke the kiss.

"Are you sore?" he asked.

"Well, actually, yes," I giggled. "That why I was kind of hesitant when you said you were going to repay me."

"Oh, not like that," he grinned. Then he started climbing down the bed, and deposited his face between my legs. I felt the first lick right up my labia and I shuddered.

"OH!" I cried, as he started licking me up and down. Then he pushed his tongue into my cunny. His whole face was in my pussy. His nose nudge up against my clit as he stuck his tongue into me. Then he brought his tongue all the way up my pussy and flicked my clit. "AYEEEE!" I let out. He kept doing it, up and down with his tongue, flicking my clit on every upstroke. I was in orbit.

Then he zeroed right in on my clit, snaking his tongue around it. I screamed, I know I did, and grabbed his hair with my hands as I humped my pussy into his face. I climaxed that way, pushing my clit into his tongue.

I fell back, completely spent, and he withdrew from between my legs. Then he climbed up next to me, grinning.

"Oh, God, where’d you learn to do that?"

"Amanda," he grinned.

"Excuse me?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"No, I’ve never done it before," he laughed, "not with Amanda or anyone else. It’s just that Amanda, though I love her, likes to tease. Especially back before this week, when I’d get all tongue-tied around her. She used to take great delight in telling me all the things Jared would do to her. Just to watch me stutter and blush." I giggled. "But one thing I remembered is that she always used to like that particular bit a lot."

"Now I know why," I giggled. "Thank you Amanda."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Missy, are you all right?" It was Dad. Oops.

"I’m fine," I said.

"I thought I heard you scream."

"You did," I said.

"What’s the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter," I said. I grinned mischievously at David. "Jeez, Dad, you’ve been with enough women, I would think you’d know what an orgasm sounds like!"

There was a moment of silence. "Melissa," he finally said, "is there someone in there with you?"

"Yes," I said. "Now go away, because I don’t think he’s quite done yet!"

There was a moment’s silence, then I heard the footsteps going down the hall.

Poor David. "Oh Jesus. I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re dead," he moaned.

"No, we are not," I giggled. "He can’t say a fucking word about this, not with all the affairs he’s had. Look, I was kidding about you not being done yet. Let’s get dressed and go rustle up some breakfast."

"OK, if you say so," he said. "Missy?" I looked at him. He took a deep breath. "I love you."

"You do?" I squeaked.

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Oh, God," I said, my heart racing. Somebody loves me. How the fuck did that happen? However it happened, I wasn’t giving it back. Well, I was giving it back. "I love you, too," I whispered.

"Good," he grinned. "I’d hate to be the only one."

Yes, of course I knew she needed to hear it. But I needed to say it, too. And I found out I liked hearing it quite a lot myself.

We got dressed then. I put on my clothes from yesterday, of course, since that’s all I had with me. But she put on her clothes from yesterday, too. The new ones.

"Decided you like that outfit, huh?" I teased.

"Well, yeah, OK, I admit it."

"We need to get you back to Veychold’s." She just looked at me. "For more."

"Nah," she said. "OK, well, maybe a couple more," she giggled. "But I am buying them. I’m the one with the rich parents that I don’t mind squeezing dry. Anyhow, let’s go find some food."

I followed her downstairs and she led me into the kitchen. "What do you want?" she asked.

"I don’t know. What have you got?"

"We have everything," she giggled. "The refrigerator stays stocked around here."

"Eggs, I take it. Bacon?" She nodded. "How about mushrooms and cheese?" She nodded again. "Good, that sounds like omelet fixings."

"Oooh, that sounds good, but it needs onion, too." She started gathering up the stuff. She found a fry pan, I took it, and opened the bacon. While I started frying it, she grabbed a cutting board, and the onion.

I heard—well, felt is probably closer—the kitchen door open. I knew that one or both of her parents were standing there. Our backs were to them. I shot her a look, and she shot me one back. I was going to follow her lead on this.

"Hey, honey," she said, "the knives are in that drawer right by your hip. Can you grab me a good one for onion chopping?" I did so, and handed it to her. As I turned, I saw them out of the corner of my eye. Both parents, standing there watching us.

I had the bacon in the pan. "It’s a good thing you didn’t try that when you were in The Program. Bacon grease splattered over a nude body. Ouch."

"Good point," I laughed.

Just then, her mother decided to speak up. "Hello, Melissa," she said.

Missy turned to them briefly, smiling. "Hi," she said cheerfully. She pointed to me. "That’s David. He’s my boyfriend now, so get used to him," she giggled.

"That outfit is new, isn’t it?" her mother asked. She nodded. "Where did you get it?"

"Veychold’s," she said. "Dave’s Mom works there. He bought it for me."

"First time I ever had someone to use Mom’s employee discount on," I said. She laughed at that.

"It’s kind of revealing, isn’t it?" her Dad said.

"That’s the point," Missy giggled. "That’s also why I’m letting him fry the bacon."

"Letting me? I thought I volunteered."

"You did, but it’s the same thing." She sniffled. "Damn, I should’ve let you chop the onion instead."

"Now, now," I said, waving my spatula at her, "no crying on the new clothes."

"Too late. I’m done, anyhow." She scooped the onion from the cutting board into a bowl. She added the mushrooms and cheese. "How’s that bacon coming?" she asked, walking over to me.

"It’s coming. You can’t rush bacon."

"Yeah, yeah." Just then she grimaced.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Well, you know, I’m sore. Really sore. I’m going to be walking funny all day," she giggled. Jesus, her parents were still in the room! "If I move wrong, I feel it." She looked at me. "And don’t you dare apologize, I asked for it, didn’t I?" This was really awkward. Her parents still weren’t saying anything. She was, more or less, ignoring their presence—unless they said something.

"Melissa, why are you sore?" her mother finally asked.

"Because it was my first time and we went at it for three hours," she giggled.

"Hey, do you have an omelet pan?" I asked abruptly, changing the subject.

"Yeah, down there," she said, pointing at a lower cabinet. She started to crouch down.

"No, honey, I’ll get it. Wouldn’t want you further straining any delicate muscles or anything." She giggled at that. " You can beat the eggs," I said.

"I’ll beat anything you want me to beat," she said coquettishly. I just grinned and went down to get the pan. On the way up, I kissed her.

"Love you," I said. Yep, I said it deliberately with her parents there.

"Love you, too," she beamed at me, knowing exactly what I did.

I walked back over to the stove. "Bacon’s done." I drained it, and crumbled it up into the bowl. Missy beat the eggs into a separate bowl.

"Melissa," her father finally said, "is it going to be a regular occurrence for your boyfriend to stay the night?"

"I don’t know," she said. "The atmosphere’s probably better at his house."

"You have a nicer kitchen, though," I laughed. "And my mother always insists on helping whenever I cook!"

"Well, I’m helping, aren’t I?" she asked.

"You’re helping, not interfering," I laughed.

"We just don’t think it’s proper that a seventeen year old girl has her boyfriend spend the night," her Mom said.

"Well, it’s better than adultery," Missy said sharply.

"Melissa, your mother’s and my sex life is none of your business," her Father said.

"Good, then mine should be none of yours, correct?" she said.

"We’re not flaunting ours!" her dad said.

"Neither am I," she countered. "This is my house, too, isn’t it? That’s what you said yesterday, Dad. You want me to stay here. Well, I will. But I’m living my life." She turned to me. "Ready for the eggs?"

"Yup," I said. She brought the bowl over. Her parents finally left the room.

Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?

I wasn’t flaunting it. I just wasn’t keeping it a secret, not in my own house. I never felt good in that house. I felt like the bad exhibit in the art gallery. Having Dave with me, even just cooking breakfast, made it a lot better.

We finished the omelets and made some toast, then took the stuff out to the dining room. Mom and Dad were there. David and I just looked at each other and sat down.

After a couple minutes, Dad, predictably, looked at David and said, "You know, I could ruin your life."

"You could try," David said with a hint of amusement. "I’m not a physical person. In fact, your daughter’s dating the class wimp." I just giggled at that. "And I took a shot to the face on your daughter’s behalf earlier this week. If you think you can do worse than that to me, you don’t know me."

"Besides which," I said, "my lovely parents are forgetting that I know all about their ‘activities’."

"Melissa…." Dad said ominously.

"And, yes, I can prove at least a few of them."

"Is that a threat?" Dad said. Mom was just looking embarrassed.

"Just a counter-threat," I said. Then I glared at him. "You do a thing to harm David, and it all comes out. I promise you. You leave him alone, and me for that matter? I keep my mouth shut. I really don’t care how many people you fuck—except that it just proves what a hypocrite you are—but I expect the same courtesy. And I expect David to be left alone. No threats, no insinuations, nothing."

Dad just gave a quick nod. We finished our omelets, and then got the hell out of there.

"You know what?" David said. "I think I need to talk to Mom about us spending more time at my house."

"I think you’re right," I giggled. "Well, I wanted to get that over with. I knew it was coming." We were out in front of my house, headed to my car. "Dave?" He looked at me. "Let’s take our clothes off."

"Huh?"

"It’s technically the last day we’re in The Program. Let’s take our clothes off. I know we’re not in school, but I want to go nude. We could go to the mall," I giggled.

"OK," he grinned, and we started stripping, right there in front of my house. We tossed our clothes in the back seat.

"I’m actually less sore not wearing underwear," I giggled.

We went to the mall. Yeah, I was walking kind of gingerly, but I didn’t care. It’s the best pain I’ve ever been in—and it wasn’t that bad.

Cassie and Frankie were there. "Oh my GOD!" Cassie shrieked when she saw us nude.

"Hi, guys," I grinned.

"I can’t believe you’re here like this!" Cass said.

"A crazy impulse. But we’re enjoying it."

She watched me walk. "Missy, you’re still walking like you’re in pain. Does it still hurt?"

"Not still. Again," I said.

"You got hit again?" Cassie asked in horror. Frankie and David were chatting about something, not really listening to us.

"Well, no, I didn’t get hit," I grinned at her.

"You didn’t!"

"We did," I beamed. "And for something like three hours. That’s why I’m sore."

"That’s a good reason to be sore," Cassie giggled.

So, that’s the story of David’s and my week in The Program. I suppose it could’ve been better. I would’ve liked to have gone through it not as punishment, and been treated like any other Program kid. But it all worked out in the end. I made some good, long-overdue decisions about myself. I got my best friend back. And I found someone to love me—and I love him right back. All in all, a lot of good things in one week, wouldn’t you say?

It was an interesting week, for both of us. But it turned out great.

Of course, the real interesting week was yet to come. I think I saw half the boys in the junior class get all excited when we walked into school that Monday and heard, "Maggie Benson, please report to the principal’s office." Maggie Benson in The Program? This was gonna be a hoot!

--fin—