Heather and I were in my car, driving back to the beach. The radio was on, and the windows were open. It was hot, and I was confused with trying to sort things out while I drove. She interrupted my thoughts.

"They told you, didn't they?"

"Huh? Told me what?"

"Oh, don't start that. A little secret? Something they'd been hiding?"

"Shit. Yeah, alright." I looked across at her. "They told me you liked boys after all."

"Huh?"

"Oh... that's not... what little secret?"

"Paul, I have no idea what... oh, hold on... tell me what they said. Exactly."

"Shit, just that. They said you're not a lesbian."

"Those bitches!"

"Listen, it's alright, I can pretend they didn't say a word, if you want."

"Oh, I'll cut their tits off. Four tits!"

"Hey, steady on."

"The conniving little bitches!"

"You said that."

"Pull over. We need to talk."

The road was deserted, so I just pulled over to the side and stopped. I pulled on the handbrake and turned to her. "What is it?"

"Look, we're talking at cross purposes here. I thought they told you about my boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"No, no. Had. Had a boyfriend. Marcus."

"Oh." I paused to think before continuing. "But what does that have to do with the lesbian thing? Other than of course you're not. You're not, right?"

"Right. I'm not. But I never knew those two sluts had told you I was!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Paul, maybe I should explain?"

"Well, I sure hope someone is going to. I've never been so confused in my life."

"Yeah, I can understand that. Sorry."

"And what about... what did you say his name was? Marcus?"

"Yeah, Marcus. You want to hear about him?"

"Yeah, sure. But... if you're not a lesbian... you don't like me?"

"Oh, no, I like you just fine." She reached across and kissed me on the cheek. "I do. Really I do."

"Oh. Then... you don't want me? I can understand that."

She blushed then, and then pulled my face around and stared in my eyes. "I want you, too. It's just... complicated."

"Because of the twins?"

"Oh, no, not at all. But I'm going to kill them next time I see them, just the same."

"So... well, why has this gone the way it has? I'm not complaining, you understand, but we've had... opportunities."

"Yeah. Listen Paul, I said it was complicated. And the twins don't know the whole story."

"Ah, okay. Well, there's no reason you should tell me, but if you want to I'm all ears."

"Yeah. You're a nice guy, you know?"

"Oh, now you start?" I grinned at Heather and she slapped my shoulder.

"Stop that. Tell you what, then. If you swear an oath to keep it to yourself, I'll tell you the whole sordid story."

"It's a deal. I never blab in any case."

"I know. Okay. Two more stipulations."

"Typical. You tell me what the rules are, I agree to them, and then you add some more. You could sell cars." That got me a grin and another slap.

"Alright, alright. What I want is this. You let me finish without interrupting, and you head down the coast rather than back to the beach. I need talking space."

"No problem. Now?"

"Uh huh. Listen, can we be friends? Really good friends?"

"I thought we already were."

"Good enough. Get moving then."

"Am I a friend or a slave?"

"You see why I usually get around in my car?"

"Yeah, but my car was getting jealous."

"Drive! I met Marcus at school..."

---

He was in the rugby team. I have no special fondness for sports guys though, and I first met him in the school library. I was a student librarian. This was a couple of years ago. He came in looking for some books on nutrition. We didn't have much to offer, but I'd been down to the public library a few months earlier looking for similar stuff, so I was able to offer some recommendations.

I didn't see him again for about a month. He walked past me outside at lunchtime, and stopped, with a grin on his face.

"Hey, you're the girl from the library, right?"

"Yeah. Heather. Mark?"

"Marcus. Close."

"Sorry. Marcus then."

"Yeah." He waved the guys on that he was walking with. "Listen, could I sit there for a minute?"

"Oh, sure." I shuffled over a little to give him room. He dropped down on the bench and his bag fell between his bare legs. I loved it when the boys wore summer uniforms. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, sort of. I got a couple of those books out that you mentioned. I'm really keen to get into some sort of programme to see if I can speed myself up on the field. It's tough out there."

"Well, good for you."

"Yeah. But... well I don't really understand them, basically. You look pretty clever. Is there any chance you could go through some of this stuff with me?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess. I don't know too much about it though."

"Well, you'll still be well ahead of me. Could you?"

"Okay. Just come into the library tomorrow at lunchtime. I'm on duty, but if it's quiet I'll see if we can figure it out."

"Yeah, ah... Heather, right? Heather, there's this thing. I don't really want to do it here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He blushed. "Look, I just don't want the other guys to know, okay?"

"I see."

"Yeah. Heather, it's not... I'm not... It's not a line or anything, but could we look at the books at my place?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Look, Mum will be home, and we can sit in the dining room. She wouldn't allow us to sit anywhere else anyway."

"Yeah, well..." I looked at him. He seemed completely legitimate, and I nodded. "Yeah, alright."

"Great. Listen, do you have a boyfriend I need to clear this with, or something?"

"No, no need."

"So you don't have one?"

"I never said that."

"So you do?" He was grinning at me now. "I'm just teasing. So does tomorrow work?"

"Ah... nope. Shopping. Thursday?"

"Good for me. Could we walk from here? I just live a couple of blocks away."

"Alright. Meet you here?"

"Three-thirty."

"Done. Nice to meet you, Marcus."

"And you, Heather. See you Thursday."

I was nervous. He seemed a nice honest guy, but how could I tell? And to be completely honest, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted him to be quite that nice.

Thursday rolled around fast enough in any case, and Marcus showed up at the agreed time and place. I grabbed my bag, and we headed out the gate, trying to sort out what sort of mutual friends we might have. The list was pretty short, but the chatter was pleasant.

Marcus lived in a nice house. Not huge, but certainly a better class of home than our place. True to his word his mother was there. Mrs West was a nice lady, and made me feel very welcome. We sat in the dining room at the table, orange juice and chocolate biscuits at the ready, and attacked the books.

Marcus wasn't really having too much trouble, I don't think, though he had some of the basics a little mixed up. We got it straightened out and then went through the process of working out what might be the best diet to achieve what he wanted.

It turned out his mother was a nurse, and when she came back in we ran the plan past her, and she said she didn't see anything there that might be a problem. Then she picked up the biscuits and moved them to our side of the table, away from Marcus. His protests were ignored as we helped ourselves to another one each, and she told him about how he might have some trouble with temptations along the way, but that she would try to help him out wherever she could. The two of us were laughing at the look on his face.

Marcus insisted when we finished that he should walk me home, despite my objections, and I didn't mind at all. He seemed a nice guy still, and also seemed totally focused on his diet. I was convinced that his intentions were entirely innocent. I still believe they were, at that point.

The walk home wasn't anything strange either. Marcus refused to come in, claiming that he had some things he had to do. He thanked me again, turned, and walked away, waving carelessly in my direction as he left.

And that was that. At least until the following Tuesday, when he phoned me at home.

"Heather? It's Marcus."

"Oh, hey."

"Yeah. Listen, I'm not good at this... but you know Lucy, right? I think you said you do?"

"Yeah, sure do. She used to live down the street."

"Yeah. So you know she's having a party at her place this weekend?"

"Oh, Mum said I was supposed to phone her. That might be why, I guess."

"Yeah, probably. Anyway, it's going to be pretty civilised, I think. Her parents..."

"Yeah, they won't let anything get out of hand."

"No?"

"Uh uh. No alcohol, betcha."

"Oh. Well that's not important really, I guess. Not that I'd mind."

I covered the receiver with my hand and whispered. "Nor would Lucy. I could tell stories."

Marcus laughed. "Yeah, well I've heard a few myself. We can swap."

"Oh, cool."

"Yeah, so... well, listen we need to be able to tell these stories in person, right?"

"I guess so."

"Yeah. So, would you come with me?"

"Come where?"

"To the party."

"Oh! Like... with you?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Umm..."

"You can say no if you don't want to. I can handle the rejection."

"It's not that. I'd love to."

"You would? Great."

"Yeah, but... Marcus, don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Just... no?"

"Just that. We had a bust up. That was before you came over to my place, but I didn't want to tell you."

"You didn't? Why ever not?"

"Because then you would have thought I had an ulterior motive. And I didn't."

"Okay. So now what if I have a boyfriend?"

"If you do, you've kept him a secret."

"You've been snooping?"

"Checking."

"Whatever. Well I don't."

"Good. Listen, I really did only want to discuss those books with you, but... look, could we do this in person?"

"Yeah. Tell you what, if you're not too chicken, how about coming into the library tomorrow, and we can work out the details."

"I'm not scared of you or your library."

"Good. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

The party was entirely appropriate. That was good from my perspective. I got to talk to Marcus properly, and to discover how much I liked being with him.

He kissed me nicely when he took me home. I kissed him back in a way that made it obvious I would like to have another opportunity.

It only took me two more weeks to let things become... well, a bit intimate, and it was entirely intentional.

Marcus and I were at his house, alone at night, and watching television. His mother trusted him, and trusted me. On at least one count she showed bad judgement. As soon as she left the house we turned to each other and fell into a pile on the sofa. We kissed each other deeply, and held one another close. Our tongues got to know each other, and I didn't resist Marcus' wandering hands too much. After a while he lifted himself from me, and looked into my face. All the lights were on, and the TV was still blaring, but we weren't taking any notice.

I spoke first, wanting to take this further, but determined to set some ground rules. "Listen, have you... do you have... have you... you know?"

He grinned, as he often did. "Well, this is strictly between us, right?"

"Right. Hell, yes!"

"Well then, no."

"Good."

"Oh?"

"Because neither have I, and I don't want to, yet."

"Okay."

"But, short of that, I'm not going to hesitate, I don't think."

"I like that idea. You talk very directly, Heather."

"I have some cousins who make me look very shy indeed."

"Would I like them?"

"Could be. So you're not going to meet them, at least not for a while."

"I thought you trusted me."

"I do. Just not with them."

"Fair enough."

"So Marcus, what do you want to do?"

"I would like to kiss you."

"Good."

"On your freckles."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh. Every single one."

That evening he did. I was so comfortable with him, so free of fear and uncertainty that I let him do as he pleased, and he didn't try to go beyond those boundaries, so I just went along with it.

He kissed my face first, delicately pursing his lips against my eyes and my cheeks, locking his mouth to mine for a while. He undid the buttons on my shirt, and when I didn't resist he opened it, and removed it, along with his own. I helped him a little with my bra, and he fell to kissing my breasts as well. I was beside myself. Never before had anyone touched me like this. My nipples were rock hard, and bright red with excitement. Marcus seemed to find a particular delight in the feel of them. I wasn't about to object.

Eventually our touching headed further south. I actually instigated this, sliding my hands down the back of his jeans to feel the shape of his buttocks. My fingers slid down the inside of his briefs and he jumped a little before pressing himself against my hands.

His fingers shook a little as he nervously opened the snap on my pants, slid the zip down and wriggled his hand down in the space he'd created. I was wet and desperate by this time, and removed my hands from his skin for just long enough to lift my ass from the sofa and pull my pants down for him.

He took advantage of the pause to remove his jeans and push them across the floor. He hooked his thumbs either side of my knickers, and pulled them gently off my hips and down my legs, watching me for any sign of reluctance. I wouldn't have let him stop.

He knelt on the floor then, between my legs. His mouth slowly worked its way down the rest of my body until he reached my... you know. Mound. God, that sounds strange. I'd always felt the whole red hair thing was a little weird, but he made me believe that it was special instead. He kissed around... there, then moved to wander his way down my leg, and I had to move my thighs to make it clear to him where I wanted his attention.

He looked at me one more time, then lowered his mouth to me as I spread my legs further for him. His lips and tongue devoured me, and God it was good. If this was his first time doing this, he was a natural.

I was amazed at the way I felt. Prior to this night, nothing but my fingers... and my hairbrush... had been here, and now a firm tongue was wending its lovely way up and down my sopping privates. I wondered if I might be nervous, or scared maybe, or, well, reluctant. In the end, I was just horny. And I made that plain.

Marcus continued his attentions. He told me afterwards that he'd done his homework, that was all. That he listened to the stories the boys told, and sorted out the truth from the lies. That he'd never been here before, but he had some idea what to expect.

I wasn't worried about that then, though. I was busy thrusting my hips at my eager boyfriend, doing everything I possibly could to orgasm. For him perhaps, but especially for me.

It didn't take long, and the feeling was unbelievable. It might be more controlled and accurate to do it myself, but giving the control to Marcus was wonderful, and his tongue was magical. I came, shuddering and gasping with the release, and had to push him away when he didn't stop. I made him keep his distance as I calmed down, my body pulsing and me not caring, my legs just lying open and me just... Oh, God, just letting him look.

Once I'd returned to my senses I realised I was being very selfish and sat up to find a way to return the favour. He lifted himself up to his knees, and I could see the tip of his cock poking through the top of his black briefs, some wet spots on the dark cotton, and a dribble of liquid appearing from the tip of it. Marcus wasn't the only one who had done his homework, and I had at least some idea what do expect. My biggest surprise was the sheer size of the thing.

I pushed his briefs down his legs and took a good look before carefully wrapping one hand around the shaft of him, while the other took hold of his testicles gently. I wrapped my fingers around with just a little pressure, the way Steve and Vicki had told me, and I slid my hand up the shaft while fondling his balls in my other palm.

I was a little surprised when, on just the second stroke, he grunted incoherently, and his semen began to spray in pulses from the end of his cock. His whole body seemed to be involved in the reaction somehow, and his eyes were closed tight as he enjoyed himself. I felt as though I had all the power in the world, and kept stroking his cock gently, in hopes that I might coax just a little more out of it.

The spurts flew through the air and some of them landed on my legs, the rest on Marcus and his underwear. I wasn't worried, as none had gone anywhere near the danger zone, so I paid no attention. I just tried to pleasure him some more. He had to remove my hand from him, as I had needed to do with his mouth.

We did it again before his mother returned home, this time upstairs in his bed, and then regularly for the next month or two. He made me come with his tongue or fingers, and I returned the favour. I was eventually expert on handling him in my hand, but never quite got used to taking him into my mouth. I didn't mind trying, but it didn't work so very well.

We both enjoyed the situation though, Paul. Neither of us were shy of our bodies, really. We both were able to say what we wanted. I didn't hesitate to tell Marcus what I did when I was alone, and he told me the same sort of stuff. We showed each other what we did, eventually. I'm sure I should be embarrassed telling you this stuff, you know, but I'm not.

I'd thought that all this activity would wear me out, but it was all so exciting that I frequently took myself in hand when I got home, coming one final time before sleeping. I encouraged him to do the same, and I'm sure he did. He liked to report in the next day.

We were both well aware that there was one more thing we hadn't done, but I for one was having so much fun without taking any more risk than the one of being caught that I didn't want to do it just yet. Marcus never mentioned it, and never tried to push the issue.

---

"Heather, you know what? When you get talking, you're just as bad as the twins."

"You're complaining?"

"Not at all. Just wondering what I should do at this intersection."

"Turn right. And hitch your trousers before you cut your circulation off."

"Mind your own business."

"You want to hear the rest of this?"

"There's more?"

"There's always more."