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From: Nick Scipio <nick_scipioSPAM@BLOCKyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Summer Camp - Book 3" by Nick Scipio - Ch 21 (MF, teen, oral)
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 3: Kendall
Part: Chapter 21
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a teenager whose family spends
their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: MF, teen, oral
Revision: 1.0
Word Count: 8,969
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book3/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book3/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/
*****************************************************************
STANDARD DISCLAIMER
This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you
are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO
NOT read any further.
All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse
any of the activities described in this story.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio
(nick_scipio@yahoo.com). This story may be freely distributed
with this disclaimer attached.
Copyright (c) 2005 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.
*****************************************************************
Summer Camp - Book 3: Kendall
by Nick Scipio
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kendall slept most of Saturday. The few times she got up, I
forced water on her. Her nose eventually cleared up, but her
headache and upset stomach lasted most of the day. Her stuffed-up
nose was probably from the cocaine ("coke nose," Felicia had
called it), but also I recognized the classic signs of a hangover
when I saw them.
While Kendall slept, I puttered around the house. My parents
called, concerned that they hadn't been able to reach me the
night before. They had even called Elizabeth Coulter, who had
driven to our house, only to find it dark and empty.
I told Mom that Kendall and I had gone out to dinner and a late
movie. I didn't broach the subject of my "emergency" spending,
though. I wanted to save that for when I could talk to her face
to face.
I assured her that everything was fine, and promised to call
Elizabeth to set her mind at ease as well. Mom said that they
were having fun in New York City and then asked if I wanted her
to bring anything back. After my spending spree from the previous
night, though, I decided to forego anything from New York.
Finally, we said goodbye and hung up.
Since Kendall was still sleeping off her hangover, I decided to
work out. I had a lot on my mind, and I was going crazy without
anything to do.
My initial anger and frustration over Kendall's cocaine use had
cooled, but I was still disturbed by it. As I did crunches, I
thought about what I wanted to say to her. I went over imaginary
conversations in my head, but all of them ended badly.
Then I began thinking about why cocaine was "wrong." It was
illegal, but why? Who said it was wrong? Society?
A lot of people would say that nudism was wrong. But that didn't
make it true.
An even larger number of people would say that swinging was wrong
as well. But Susan and my parents had always taught me that love
and communication were the keys to a good relationship, rather
than sexual fidelity.
Trust was definitely important, but it was possible to have sex
with another person without breaking the bond of trust in a
relationship. My parents were living proof of that. They were an
exception to the rule, but they were the "norm" I was familiar
with.
So if society said that nudism and swinging were wrong--but I was
raised to know better--what was different about cocaine? What was
different about _any_ drug, for that matter? Who made the rules
about what was right and what was wrong?
As I launched into another round of exercises, I chuckled darkly
at my philosophical turn. I still wasn't _happy_ about Kendall's
cocaine use, but the line between "right" and "wrong" had blurred
a little.
Still, I felt that cocaine was "wrong." I saw what it did to
Felicia. She wasn't a junkie on the street, but she was
definitely under the spell of the drug. For that matter,
_Kendall_ had been as well, if only for a little while. She had
turned into a different person when she snorted the white powder.
In the end, I decided that cocaine seemed like nothing but
trouble. I could rationalize that society had arbitrarily decided
that it was "wrong," but I still couldn't avoid the conclusion
that _I_ thought it was wrong.
I had been raised to avoid drugs, and for most of my life, I had.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was making the same
subjective decision that society had, but I couldn't deny my
values. My parents had spent more than eighteen years instilling
them, and I wasn't going to revolutionize my attitude in an
afternoon.
Finally, I resolved to talk to Kendall. I wouldn't take a hard
line, and I'd try to be understanding, but I wasn't going to let
her off the hook.
I _couldn't_ know how cocaine made her feel, but I could try to
understand why she'd felt the need to use it. I knew her well
enough to know--to _hope_--that she'd want to avoid drugs in the
future.
As I mechanically did push-ups, I began my imaginary conversation
with Kendall. I hoped the real conversation would go as smoothly
as it did in my head.
Unfortunately, things _rarely_ go as well as we hope.
-----
"I know it was wrong," Kendall said, "but I just couldn't stop
myself."
We were in the Jeep, driving to Chattanooga. It was Sunday
evening. I had avoided the Cocaine Talk (as I'd come to think of
it in my head) until then. Kendall and I had watched TV on
Saturday evening, and then spent a quiet Sunday together, but the
events from Friday night hung over us.
"When we were in the bathroom at the restaurant and Felicia
offered me a bump," Kendall explained, "I started to say no. But
then I thought, 'what the heck! I'm good all the time.' I wanted
to have fun. I wanted to get wild."
"You can get wild _without_ cocaine," I said as evenly as I
could.
"Sure, but Felicia was so cool, and I didn't want to seem like a
square."
"So you snorted _coke_ instead? I mean, _I_ managed to say no."
"Then I guess you're a better person than me," she snapped.
"I didn't mean it like that," I soothed. "I'm sorry."
"Paul, you don't know what it's like," she said. "It made me feel
so _alive_. I could do anything. I could ask you to do what I
wanted, instead of being embarrassed. You don't know what it's
like to be me sometimes. Everybody expects me to be the good
girl, to get good grades, to speak properly, to look nice, to go
to church. _Aaaah!_ I'm going crazy inside!"
I looked at her, a little shocked.
"'Oh, Kendall's such a good girl. Kendall's going to be a doctor.
Kendall gets straight As,'" she mocked. "'Kendall would never
have sex. She'd never do drugs. She's so pure and good.' I hate
it, I tell you. I'm not _like_ that. I'm not some straight-laced
prude."
"No, you're not, but cocaine isn't the way to prove that."
"I know," she said softly, reserved once again, "but... I guess you
just don't understand what my life is like. Everyone has all
these expectations for me, but what about _me?_ What about _my_
expectations? Can't I go out and have fun every once in a while
without someone thinking I'm a slut, or a drug addict, or... or
worse?!"
"Sure you can, but--"
"Then why don't you understand about the cocaine? It's not like
I'm on the corner buying the stuff. I've used it twice, Paul.
_Twice_."
"That's another thing," I said when she paused to take a breath.
"The other time was with Big Mistake Guy, wasn't it?"
"Yes," she said, her mood changing drastically. "But that was a
big, _big_ mistake. That's why I wanted to try... it--the cocaine,
I mean--with _you_. I knew you wouldn't..."
"Wouldn't what?" I asked, dangerously quiet.
"I knew you wouldn't take advantage of... the situation."
"The situation?"
"You know..."
I shook my head.
"Did you realize how horny it made me?" she asked by way of
answer.
I nodded.
"I knew I was safe with you. Besides, I _wanted_ to go wild with
you. I wasn't worried about..."
When the silence drew out, I asked, "What _happened_ with you and
Big Mistake Guy?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she half-whispered.
"Why not?"
"I just don't. I'm not proud of what happened, and... and I don't
really want to relive it."
I nodded silently. Inside, however, I was burning with curiosity.
I wanted to know what had happened, but I didn't want to force
her to tell me. In any event, my silence convinced her to
explain.
"His name was Wes," she said softly, so softly that I almost
missed it. "I met him last year, and I guess I thought he was a
nice guy. But that girl I told you about...," she continued,
"Hayley?"
"I know who she is," I said.
"Oh, that's right, Gina hangs out with her now, doesn't she."
"She doesn't really 'hang out' with Hayley," I said, trying not
to sound defensive. "But she knows who she is. Anyway, what
happened with Hayley and Big Mistake Guy?"
"They were both in my Western Civ. class, and I _thought_ Hayley
was my friend. But she's just _evil_, Paul," Kendall said, with
more venom in her voice than I'd ever heard. Then she sniffed and
wiped her cheek.
I had a similar opinion of Hayley, but I was curious about how
she had managed to earn Kendall's enmity.
"She invited me to a Carnicus party at one of the Pike guys'
houses, because she knew I kinda liked Wes. I swear, though, I
wasn't going to do anything with him," she said, imploring me.
"You know how you can be attracted to someone without doing
anything, right?"
I nodded; I knew _exactly_ how she felt.
"By then," she continued, "I knew Gina was coming to UT, and I
was angry. _You_ were supposed to come to UT by yourself, and we
could be boyfriend-girlfriend... just the two of us. But Gina was
going to spoil everything," she added bitterly. "She's so
_selfish_. She always has been, and I'm the only one who's seen
it."
I clenched my jaw, but didn't speak.
Kendall caught my reaction and hastily returned to her story. "I
swear," she continued, wiping her cheeks, "I didn't mean to do
anything with Wes. Hayley could tell that I was angry, though.
She said I should have fun and maybe even get drunk. I thought
she was being my friend. Now I know different--I don't think she
was _ever_ my friend. Anyway, I guess I was a lot angrier than I
realized. I decided to go to the party because... well... I don't
know why. I was just angry and frustrated and... and... I wanted to
_scream_."
I kept my eyes on the road, but my thoughts were awhirl. So many
things from the past couple of months were starting to make
sense. I'd known that Kendall wasn't happy that Gina had come to
Knoxville, but I hadn't realized that the events surrounding Big
Mistake Guy _also_ had to do with Gina's decision to attend UT.
"I guess I had too much to drink," Kendall said, her voice heavy
with self-recrimination. Then, "I _know_ I had too much to drink.
So when Hayley offered me some cocaine, I said yes. And it made
me feel so _good_, as if this golden glow surrounded me, and I
didn't care that Gina was coming with you. 'I'll show _her_,' I
remember thinking. 'If she wants to fuck everything that moves to
get Paul's attention, then I can too.'"
_Gina hasn't fucked everything that moved,_ I thought crossly.
But I held my tongue.
"I don't really remember exactly how it happened," Kendall said,
drawing my attention back to her story, "but the next thing I
knew, Wes was taking my clothes off. Then he was on top of me...
_inside_ me. I'll spare you the gory details," she whispered
hoarsely, "but I'd done some more coke, so I was... well... I guess I
wasn't myself."
"Did you tell him to stop?" I asked, my emotions under rigid
control.
"At first, I... I didn't _want_ him to stop. It... it felt good.
Besides, I wanted to prove to you that I could be just like Gina.
I know that's silly," she said, wiping her eyes, "but that's what
I remember thinking. _Then_ I started to feel guilty, so I told
him to stop. He didn't, of course," she said, full of bitterness.
"It's my own fault, though, for being there in the first place.
"But it got worse," she said, sniffing miserably. "As soon as he...
finished... I heard applause. Oh, Paul, it was horrible. I looked
up and a bunch of people were on the balcony above us. They were
_cheering!_ I was humiliated, and they were laughing. What kind
of people do that?" she asked plaintively. "Hayley was there,
that evil _bitch_. She probably set the whole thing up. 'Let's
take Kendall out and get her drunk,'" she mocked, suddenly
vicious. "'Let's get her high. Let's watch some Greek _ass_hole
have sex with her.' I _trusted_ her, Paul," she raged.
"She told all the other people at the party, too," Kendall
continued. "Everyone who hadn't seen, at least. They all thought
it was _so_ funny. And by Monday, a bunch of other people had
heard about it. Even Bridget Jameson said she heard 'some
dreadful rumors.' Bridget! She's the sweetest, nicest person in
the world, and even _she_ heard about what happened. The Chi Os
and Pikes must've told _everyone_," she said.
Then she looked at me, defiant and angry. "_Now_ do you
understand why I hate Greeks?! I _hate_ them, Paul. They use
people. That's all they do," she railed. "Bridget and Toni are
okay, but they're the only ones who had anything _nice_ to say to
me. They felt sorry for me. But all the others...," she added with
quiet ferocity, "all the others can... can... can _go to hell!_"
For several minutes, we drove in silence. I didn't know what to
say, and Kendall was consumed by her bitterness and anger.
"The worst part was," she said, turning despondent, "I remember
how good the coke made me feel. I was still humiliated, and I
felt guilty because it was my own fault, but I couldn't stop
thinking about the cocaine. So that's why I wanted to... you know...
to try it with you," she said. "I couldn't stop thinking about
it. And, Paul, it felt _good_. I wanted that feeling again, but
with the right person, instead of some lowlife Greek," she said,
trying to convince me. "I know it was wrong... but I just couldn't
help myself." Then she looked at me, tears streaking her face,
her mascara a black mess. "Do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you," I said.
"You probably think I'm a slut. I _knew_ I shouldn't've told
you," she said. "I knew you wouldn't understand--"
At that point, I pulled to the side of the interstate and came to
a stop.
Kendall looked at me, her eyes wide with anxiety.
"No, I don't think you're a slut," I said, meeting her gaze and
holding it. "And I _definitely_ understand." My anger had cooled,
but I wouldn't soon forget what Hayley and the Greeks had done.
"When I did the coke with Felicia, I just wanted to have fun,"
Kendall said, her voice thick with emotion. "I just wanted to
have fun with _you_. And... I wanted to erase that awful memory of
Hayley's face as she laughed and cheered."
When I pictured Hayley in my mind, I practically snarled. _I want
her _dead_,_ I thought viciously.
"What's the matter?" Kendall asked suddenly.
I shook off my violent thoughts and returned to reality, to the
girl next to me.
"You _do_ think I'm a slut, don't you," Kendall accused half-
heartedly.
"No," I said firmly. "_Hayley's_ the slut. You just trusted the
wrong person," I added. Then I pulled her into my arms.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
While traffic whizzed past us, I held her as she wept.
-----
When we reached her house, Kendall was composed. She was still
upset--about the past, as well as the pain of revealing it--but
her tears had dried and she'd fixed her makeup. Fortunately, her
father was working late on a case, so we didn't have to explain
to him why she was so distraught.
In her room, we talked some more, but for the most part, I simply
held her. She promised not to do cocaine again, and even
apologized for trying it in the first place. With all that she'd
told me in the past couple of hours, though, cocaine was the
_least_ of my worries.
By the time I left, she felt better, and even gifted me with a
wan smile after I kissed her goodbye. I, on the other hand, felt
like murdering Hayley Devlin. And if I ever got my hands on Wes--
whatever his last name was, Kendall wouldn't tell me--I'd kill
him too. He deserved worse: something involving hot pokers, dull
knives, or both.
The problem wasn't that Kendall had sex with another guy; I'd
seen that often enough myself. But sex wasn't supposed to be
about humiliation. Nor was it something you did _to_ someone,
especially when they were high on drugs.
Kendall had been guilty of bad judgment, of getting drunk and
trying drugs. Wes had been guilty of rape, as far as I was
concerned. Hayley was guilty of using oxygen that a human being
could've used instead.
When I got home, my parents had returned from New York City. I
wasn't in the mood to hear about their trip, though, so I
welcomed them home and went to my room. Mom knocked on my door
about an hour later.
"Is everything okay, honey?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She could hear the lie in my voice.
"Okay, no," I said at last, "everything's _not_ okay."
She came in and shut the door. "Is Kendall all right? Did
something happen while we were gone? Was it Friday night?"
"It's not Kendall," I explained. "And nothing happened Friday
night," I fibbed. "It's something that happened to her a while
ago. She... she just told me about it."
Mom nodded for me to continue.
"I don't really wanna go into details," I said at last. "I'm
angry enough as is. If I have to think about it any more, I'll
wanna _kill_ someone."
"Is it something her father should know about?"
"God, no," I said hastily. "He's got a gun; he _would_ kill
someone."
Mom was silent for a long moment, letting me think.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said at last. "I really don't wanna talk
about it."
She nodded and then quietly left me to my dark thoughts.
-----
Over the course of the following day, I went from hot fury to
cold anger. First, I was angry with Gina, simply because she was
_associated_ with the Chi Os. I had to laugh at myself for that,
though. I had fallen into the same trap as Kendall: blaming Gina
for something she didn't have anything to do with.
Of course I was angry with Hayley, Wes, and anyone else who'd
been at that party (Rod?), but I couldn't really do anything
about the past. I guess I also blamed myself, for failing to
protect Kendall. I know it's stupid, since I wasn't even _in_
Knoxville when Big Mistake Night happened, but that's how I felt.
When I talked to Kendall on Monday night, our conversation was
strained at first. I got the impression she was worried that I
was angry with her for what happened with Big Mistake Guy (I
refused to call him Wes, even in my head).
Even though she blamed herself, it _wasn't_ her fault. I made
that point a little more vehemently than I intended, but she knew
me well enough to understand that I was upset about the
situation, not her self-ascribed guilt.
-----
Tuesday afternoon, I went out by myself to finish some Christmas
shopping. I needed to buy a couple of small presents for my
family, especially my grandparents. In addition, I still had to
buy private gifts for Kendall and Gina. Even though they probably
wouldn't get together and compare, I didn't want to get them the
same thing. Unfortunately, I had no idea what to buy either of
them.
On the other hand, I had finally settled on what to get Susan,
who was extremely hard to buy for. Fortunately, I could _make_
her present, although it would take several hours (if not more).
As I drove toward Perimeter Mall, I mentally scheduled the time
to do the work.
When I got to the mall, it took me fifteen minutes just to find a
parking place. Once inside, what should have taken an hour took
almost four. By the time I left, I was sick and tired of crowds.
I had managed to get my grandparents' gifts, as well as a few for
my family, but I still needed to buy a private present for the
girls.
Since I'd already spent so much on Kendall, I wasn't going to
spend _much_ more on her, but I needed to buy her something
special to open when we were alone. I already had two things, but
they were small; I needed something a bit more impressive.
I also had to buy a private gift for Gina, and lingerie seemed
like a good idea. I hadn't bought her any in a while, so I
thought she'd enjoy something new. Besides, she'd have the
opportunity to model it for me, which we'd both enjoy.
As I passed the shopping center with Felicia's store, I decided
to pull in. It wasn't as crowded as the mall, but there were
still a lot of cars in the parking lot. Eventually, I found a
parking place and headed inside.
"I'll be with you in a minute," a harried salesgirl said as I
entered.
"I'll help him," another voice said.
I turned.
Felicia smiled at me. Then she said goodbye to her current
customer, who was headed for the door, laden with shopping bags
full of recent purchases. "Howdy, stranger," Felicia said
brightly.
"Howdy, yourself," I said.
"You look _great!_"
"Thanks," I said. "You look pretty good yourself."
After an awkward moment, she turned demure. Then, softly, she
said, "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."
"Here I am," I said, laughing nervously. _Why had I come to
_this_ store to buy lingerie,_ I wondered. I knew why, but I
guess I didn't want to admit it.
"We close in half an hour," Felicia said. "Do you wanna get a
drink someplace?"
"I _can't_ get a drink," I hedged. "At least not until I'm
nineteen. Remember?"
"Oh yeah, right! Well then, d'you wanna get dinner someplace.
_Or_," she said, suddenly enthusiastic, "I could fix you dinner.
I grill a mean T-bone."
Part of me wanted to politely decline. But a growing part of me--
below the belt, of course--wanted to accept.
"Please," she said. "No strings attached. Okay?"
"I'd love to, but..."
"C'mon, let's do something. Please? We can do anything you want."
I got the clear impression that "anything" meant _anything_. In
retrospect, I was breaking "bachelor lesson number one"; I was
shopping for groceries when I was hungry (metaphorically
speaking, of course). In other words, it had been a couple of
days since I last had sex, and with Felicia practically begging
me to fuck her, my judgment was a little suspect.
Okay, maybe it was a _lot_ suspect.
"_Any_thing," she repeated, stepping close and looking up with
wide, dark eyes.
"I've got to finish my Christmas shopping," I said evasively.
"I can help you. I don't mind. I need to do some last minute
shopping myself."
Against my better judgment, I caved.
With that, she practically beamed at me. Then she stretched
upward for a kiss. I wondered what I was getting myself into as
she gave me a peck on the cheek. I _knew_ what I was getting
myself into, of course, but I couldn't decide if I wanted to
fight it or not.
For the next thirty minutes, I browsed the shop while Felicia
helped last-minute customers. I spent the time usefully, though,
and found a sheer white chemise and a matching pair of panties
for Gina. Felicia arched an eyebrow when I paid for them, since
they weren't Kendall's size.
"They're for a friend," I said, hoping I didn't sound as lame as
I thought I did.
Felicia's eyes momentarily sparkled, until she realized that they
weren't _her_ size either. She bounced back quickly, though, and
said, "Whatever, sure. Just let me clock out and get my coat, and
then I'll be ready to go. Okay?"
"No problem," I said, taking the bag with my purchase as she
headed toward the back of the store. I milled around for a few
minutes, simply watching the remaining customers leave the store.
"Ready, willing, and able," Felicia said when she returned.
It took me a moment to realize it, but she had changed clothes.
The differences were subtle, but important: her black skirt was
shorter than before, and she had traded her businesslike sweater
for a tighter one with a deep V-neck. And I couldn't help but
notice that her breasts swayed freely, the bumps of her braless
nipples casting shadows in the light from above.
"Do you mind if I ride with you?" she asked as I helped her don
her coat. "I'll leave my car here and you can drop me off later.
Or, if you want, you can ju--"
"That sounds fine," I said, heading off the invitation I knew was
coming.
Her face fell, but then she forced a smile.
Once in the Jeep, she asked what I wanted to shop for. After a
moment's reluctance, I explained that I needed to find a couple
of private gifts for Kendall. (I lumped Gina's gifts in with
Kendall's, since I didn't want Felicia asking questions about my
complex relationship. If she knew I already had two girlfriends,
she might not understand my reluctance for a _third_.)
"I know just the place," she said enthusiastically. "Head for the
airport."
"Why? What's there?"
"This sex shop I know about. It's also a head shop, but they've
got the kinds of things you're looking for."
With only a few misgivings, I followed her directions. _What _is_
it about sex shops?_ I wondered when we arrived. It was dingy and
dreary looking, and I felt like I needed a bath just looking at
it.
"C'mon," Felicia said excitedly, "let's go."
Inside, it was much like the shop in Knoxville: racks full of
magazines, video tapes, and sex toys. Unlike the shop in
Knoxville, though, half the store was devoted to bongs, pot
pipes, psychedelic statues, black-light posters, scales, and a
myriad of things whose use I couldn't even begin to fathom.
"Do you know what you want?" Felicia asked. Then she grabbed my
hand and led me toward the sex toys.
We browsed for a few minutes and then she grew excited.
"Remember I told you about these?" she asked, holding up a small
box with a drawing of two spheres. "Ben Wa balls?"
I nodded. As I recalled the vivid memory of her internal muscles,
my dick began to swell.
"You could get these for Kendall," she suggested.
It wasn't a bad idea, but I didn't want to appear too eager,
because I didn't want her to offer to show me--again--what kind
of muscles she'd developed using the balls. Well, I _wanted_ her
to offer, but I didn't want to disappoint her by turning her
down. So I smiled noncommittally and gave the box a faux-casual
examination.
"They'll really spice up your love life," Felicia urged. "Trust
me."
"Sure," I said at last. "Good idea."
We browsed some more, and Felicia made sure to stick close. She
held my arm, and pressed her breasts against me as often as she
could. I knew what she was doing, of course, but I couldn't
really tell her to stop. Worse, I didn't _want_ to tell her to
stop. My dick, of course, was as hard as steel and seemed to be
cheering her on.
Treacherous organ.
"Hey," Felicia said, "how about one of these?" With that, she
held up a box containing an extremely realistic dildo. "It's not
as big as the real thing," she said, gesturing toward my crotch,
"but I think Kendall would like it."
In reality, I didn't think Kendall would like it one bit; I
thought it would intimidate her. After all, she didn't even have
a _vibrator_, so she probably wasn't ready for a veined and
lifelike rubber cock. On the other hand, Gina would love it.
"Yeah, that's a great idea," I said at last. Then I reached for
the box.
"I'll hold your cock for you," Felicia said playfully, pulling
the box from my grasp. "Do you want me to take it out for you?"
she asked, her eyes round and innocent-seeming.
"That's okay," I said quickly. "Just leave it in the box."
"You want to leave your cock in my box?" she asked. Then she
batted her eyes.
I'm sure I turned six shades of purple.
"You're cute when you blush," she said.
"Um... thanks." My dick was throbbing and my willpower was
crumbling at the same rate. If I didn't get away from Felicia, I
knew what was going to happen. So I wanted to pay for everything
and then take her back to her car. Unfortunately, she had other
ideas.
"How about these?" she asked, holding up a gold chain with clamps
on each end.
"What _are_ they?"
"Nipple clamps," she said. "You put 'em on like this," she
explained, demonstrating on her own sweater-clad nipple. Her eyes
flashed in challenge as she fastened the second clamp over her
other nipple.
"I don't think Kendall would like anything like that," I said.
"But she said her nipples are really sensitive."
"Still," I equivocated, "I think they're probably too far out for
her."
For the next several minutes, Felicia seemed bent on fondling
everything on the shelves. I knew that she was stalling for time,
of course, but it was _working_. Once, she even lifted her skirt
to demonstrate how a strap-on butterfly vibrator worked. She
wasn't wearing panties, of course.
"How do you know so much about this stuff?" I finally asked,
hoping to get her talking, so she'd stop teasing me with sex
toys. It was probably the wrong question, but it was the only one
my sex-fogged brain could come up with.
"I've used most of this stuff before," she said, her finger
tracing the valley between her breasts.
"You said you were a virgin when what's-his-name... Ronny... seduced
you," I said. I tried to keep from glancing at her stiff nipples,
but it didn't work. "So where'd you learn about all this stuff?"
I continued, my eyes once again locked on hers. "From Naldo?"
"God, no. Naldo's good in bed, but he's _real_ traditional."
"Then where?" I asked.
She turned sheepish. "I had this boyfriend on the side, about a
year ago," she explained after a moment. "A lawyer. He was a
super-freak. I mean, he was into everything: nipple clamps, anal
beads, cock rings, hot wax, feathers, you name it."
I tried not to blanch.
"Unfortunately, his wife found out."
"Whoa," I said.
"Yeah, it got really weird after that."
I looked a question at her and gently guided her toward the cash
register.
"His wife kept calling me and stuff. But she was even weirder'n
him."
My eyebrows shot up.
"Seriously," Felicia said. "She wanted me to join 'em for a
threesome, so we could tie him up and 'discipline' him."
"Did you do it?"
"Actually, yeah," she said, blushing. "A couple of times."
"What happened?" I asked, my dick throbbing sadistically.
"She was even freakier than he was, so I stopped returning their
calls. God, those people were totally demented. Fun, in a freaky
way, but totally demented."
"I'll bet," I said.
"Anyway," Felicia said, "that's how I know about most of this
stuff. I've tried to get Naldo to try some of it--the tamer
stuff--but he's too traditional. Straight fucking and the
occasional blowjob, that's all he likes. He won't even go down on
me. I guess that's why I like it when he brings another girl.
He's like every guy on the planet, it seems, so he likes watching
girl-girl action."
I nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, do we need to buy anything else?" Felicia asked. "I
wanna get out of here and... go somewhere private."
"Um...," I said, panic suddenly blossoming in the pit of my
stomach. I wanted to fuck Felicia. I _really_ wanted to fuck her,
but that was the _last_ thing I needed to do. Finally, I got my
emotions under control and glanced toward the cash register.
Before I could say anything, however, I spotted a rack of small
vibrators. I thought I could use them to avoid disappointing her
(when I inevitably told her that I was going to take her back to
her car, of course). "I also wanted to buy one of those for
Kendall," I said.
"A dildo _and_ a vibrator? Sounds like fun."
I took my time choosing. In reality, I was stalling. I was pretty
sure I knew what would happen once Felicia and I were alone
together. So I dithered over the vibrators, hoping my erection
(and libido) would take a breather. Unfortunately, I was
disappointed, on both counts.
Finally, I selected a smaller vibrator, which took AA-cell
batteries instead of C-cells. It was plain white, and looked like
the perfect beginner's vibrator. With that, I used most of the
cash in my pocket to pay for everything.
When we got in the Jeep, Felicia pressed herself against my right
side, the feeling of her luscious breasts completely distracting
me. I normally had a lot of self-control, but there's only so
much flirting a guy can take.
"Do you want to go to my place?" she asked, rubbing her hand over
my thigh. "We can have a drink and relax."
"I dunno..."
"I can fix you dinner," she said, her hand inching toward my
crotch. "And then I can model some lingerie for you."
"I should probably get you back to your car," I said, my voice
tight. Then I put my hand on hers, to stop its progress toward my
erection.
"We can do anything you want," she whispered, her voice husky.
"It's getting late."
"_Anything_."
Deliberately, I started the Jeep. Then I moved her hand from my
knee, ostensibly so I could shift.
I felt bad for disappointing her, but I knew that I shouldn't
have sex with her. My deal with Kendall and Gina was simple: as
long as they were with me, sex with another girl was okay. I
hadn't strictly followed the rules, but _one_ of the girls had
always been present when I'd had sex with someone else. Having
sex with Felicia--by myself--wouldn't simply bend the rules, it
would break them.
So I pulled onto the street and hoped I wouldn't explode in my
pants before I had a chance to get home and jerk off. As I drove,
I kept my attention on traffic. Felicia did everything in her
power to distract me: flipping her hair; idly chewing on a nail;
moistening her lips; and drawing her skirt up to flash me her
long, long legs. I watched it all in my peripheral vision, my
erection throbbing hopefully.
When we finally reached the shopping center with Felicia's store,
she directed me around back, to the employee's parking lot. My
stomach lurched when I realized that it was deserted _and_
secluded.
I parked next to her car, but left the Jeep's engine running. I
was trying to hint to her that nothing was going to happen
between us, but she was determined. When she leaned toward me for
what I hoped would be a chaste goodnight kiss, I began to lose
hope.
Instead of kissing my cheek, she shifted at the last moment and
her lips met mine. Our kiss rapidly heated up. I didn't want to
hurt her feelings by pushing her away, but our friendly goodnight
kiss had rapidly turned into something from a movie. The next
thing I knew, she pressed her body against mine as she spanned
the gap between our seats. Then she caressed the bulge of my
hard-on, her fingers insistent.
"Oh, God," she gasped when she finally pulled back, "you make me
so wet. I've been thinking about you since Saturday, thinking
about your big cock."
I tried to muster my willpower and resist her. My hands were
poised, ready to push her away.
"And I never got to taste you," she said breathlessly. She kissed
my jawline and then down my neck. "You said you liked blowjobs,
but I never sucked you off. God, I want to feel you in my mouth,"
she said, her breathing heavy. Then she kissed my shirt-covered
nipple, sending shivers up and down my spine.
At that point, I still could've pushed her away.
She descended to my crotch, her fingers worrying my zipper open.
I knew I should tell her no, but--
She extracted my rock-hard erection.
My protests died unspoken as she wrapped her lips around my cock.
She swallowed half of my shaft and then sucked gently. Her
technique wasn't as good as Kendall's, but I was too worked up to
care. With a guilty sigh, I silently admitted that I never wanted
to say no in the first place.
I put my hand on the back of her head and guided her pace as she
bobbed up and down. Within a few minutes, I was ready to explode.
Felicia sensed my impending climax and let my erection slip from
her lips.
"Come in my mouth," she said. "I swallow."
Who was I to refuse?
A half second later, she descended on my shaft, and I closed my
eyes as the pressure built in my balls.
With a groan, I held her head down and closed my eyes as the
first rush of orgasm broke over me. My cock swelled in her mouth
and she cried out in surprise when the first spurt hit the back
of her throat. She was ready for the second spurt, but she still
moaned softly.
I launched two more streams into her mouth before I felt her
swallow, but she didn't stop sucking. After nearly a minute, she
raised her head and smiled at me. Her lips were shiny with saliva
and semen.
"I've got keys to the store," she said, her voice full of desire.
"C'mon."
I hesitated.
"Please? I need you to fuck me. No strings attached, okay?"
Without waiting for me to answer, she hopped out and headed for
the employee entrance. I didn't want to seem like a cad--to take
my blowjob and then just leave--so I killed the idling engine,
tucked my semi-hard dick in my pants, and then followed her.
Once inside, I intended to let her down easily, but she had other
plans. She kissed me, and I tasted myself on her lips.
"God, Naldo won't even kiss me after I go down on him," she said
when she pulled back. Before I had a chance to answer, she kissed
me again. When our kiss heated up, my dick quickly expanded to
its full length.
As Felicia pressed her body against me, I had a silent argument
with my conscience. I'd already broken the rules. At that point,
it was simply a matter of degrees: a blowjob versus a blowjob and
more. How _much_ more was largely irrelevant.
I tried to resist Felicia's advances, but I was still horny. When
she fumbled for my renewed erection, I silently admitted what I'd
known (feared?) all along: I was going to fuck her.
_Note to self: Never shop for groceries when you're hungry.
Never. N-E-V-E-R. You'll come home with a bunch of junk food and
a horny blonde (with fantastic tits)._
At the moment, the horny blonde was rubbing those very same
fantastic tits over my chest. When she finally freed my hard-on,
she stroked it for a moment.
"God, you make me so _wet_," she whispered, her voice silky with
desire. Then, "I love your big cock." After a minute or two, she
released my shaft and ran her fingers up my chest. Then she
flipped my coat over my shoulders in one smooth motion.
I could take a hint. While I finished removing my coat, she
unbuttoned my shirt. She practically tore my shirttails out of my
pants in her haste to undress me. At that point, I took over and
slid the shirt the rest of the way off.
While she sucked my nipples--which still made me self-conscious,
no matter how good it felt--I tugged at her coat. Distracted, she
pulled it off and then tossed it aside.
At that point, I lifted her sweater, her firm breasts tumbling
free. She growled impatiently and pulled the sweater over her
head. Topless, she tilted her face up for a kiss and pressed
herself against me, her breasts warming the bare skin of my
chest.
Without breaking the kiss, she fumbled at my belt until she had
it undone. In a frenzy of kissing and lust-hurried moans, we
finished undressing each other. Then she pulled me toward her and
took a step back.
When she bumped into the manager's desk, she started to scoot
onto the desktop. Then she groaned in exasperation, reached back
blindly, and cleared the desk with a sweep of her arm. The phone
landed on the floor with a ringing crash.
With that, Felicia scooted onto the desk and spread her legs.
"Fuck me," she begged. "God, please fuck me. I wanna feel your
cock inside me."
I set the tip of my dick against the damp, soft hair of her
pussy. Without looking down, I found her opening by touch and
eased forward. My glans spread her inner labia and when I was
sure I had the angle right, I slammed my length into her. She
gasped from the force of my thrust, but clutched me tight, her
breathing ragged and quick.
As I began thrusting, she locked her legs around me. Then she
wrapped her arms around my neck and held on. Eventually, though,
she lay back on the desk.
Flat on her back, her breasts bounced with each thrust, and my
eyes were inexorably drawn to them. They were so full, so
perfect, her pink nipples describing circles in the air as I
pounded away.
She cried out each time my hips slammed into her, gasping "Oh
God" over and over again. After several minutes of furious
thrusting, I slowed my pace and bent over her, bracing myself
with knuckles on the desktop. She dragged her fingernails down my
back and then gripped my ass, as if trying to pull me deeper.
My pace still measured, I captured one of her nipples, biting it
gently. When I switched nipples, she urged me on with sighs and
moans.
Finally, I stood up straight and grabbed her hips for leverage. I
took a couple of long strokes, my dick almost slipping free each
time. Her supple belly heaved as she groaned in ecstasy, my
thrusts sinking deep. Then, all of a sudden, I went into
overdrive, my hips slamming into her pelvis as slapping noises
filled the office.
After several minutes of rapid-fire pounding, I pulled out, my
cock slick with her juices. She moaned, but then quickly hopped
off the desk when I motioned for her to bend over it. Her round
ass greeted me as I stepped forward.
As soon as my dick touched her opening, she hung her head and
braced for my onslaught. Once I eased the crown of my cock into
her pussy, I gripped her hips. Then I held still, letting the
anticipation build. The moment she lifted her head to see why I
was waiting, I rammed forward so hard that the desk lurched
beneath us.
She cried out in pleasure, her arms spread to brace herself. I
began pounding into her, my hips slapping her round ass with each
thrust. Her hot, slick pussy caressed my shaft, and I closed my
eyes to simply enjoy the sensations. After several minutes, I
buried myself as deep as I could and then stopped thrusting.
"I want to watch you while you fuck me," Felicia said,
breathless.
With a wordless nod, I pulled out, my dick bobbing gently as I
backed away from her.
Instead of rolling over on the desk, she simply spread her coat
on the floor and lay on it. Then she beckoned to me. As I knelt
between her thighs, I simply admired her body. She grew nervous
at my hesitation, so I smiled to reassure her. Then I lowered my
hips and eased forward, my dick seeking the warmth of her pussy.
Once I slid into her, I started rocking my hips, driving her wild
with short thrusts. She returned the favor by clenching her
internal muscles. When I started fucking her in earnest, she ran
her hands up and down my triceps, her eyes holding my own.
As her pleasure mounted, she closed her eyes, her face contorting
in ecstasy. I wasn't ready to come yet, so I steadied my pace.
Besides, I was enjoying her reactions as I fucked her: she bit
her lip, her nostrils flared, she mewled with pleasure.
Finally, though, I was ready to come. So I held myself above her,
push-up style. My body bowed toward her as I buried my shaft in
her pussy. My balls felt tight, and I knew they were ready to
unleash a torrent of semen deep inside her.
With a final lunge, I slammed into her and stopped moving.
Pleasure lashed my senses as I shut my eyes and emptied my balls.
She cried out, her fingernails digging into my ass, trying to
pull me deeper.
When I finally came to my senses and opened my eyes, I gazed down
at her.
She was panting and grinning. "Are you sure you're only
eighteen?" she asked.
I swallowed hard and then nodded. "Why?"
"'Cause you fuck like a god."
-----
A little while later, Felicia got up to use the bathroom. She
took her purse with her and blew me a Marilyn Monroe-style kiss
as she shut the door.
I took the opportunity to retrieve the phone and call home. When
I'd left the house, I said I'd be gone for a couple of hours.
That was eight hours earlier.
I fibbed and told my mom that I'd met a friend from high school
and gone to dinner with "him." Then I told her that I'd be home
in a couple of hours, around midnight.
"That's fine, honey," she said. "Wake me up when you get home,
though. You know I can't sleep till I know you're home safe."
"Okay, Mom. Thanks," I said, chuckling at our long-standing joke.
"Bye."
When Felicia emerged from the bathroom, she looked excited. I
didn't need Kendall's insight--or experience--to realize that
she'd probably snorted some coke. When she sniffed a couple of
times and pinched her nostrils, I was sure.
I suppressed my natural reaction and forced a smile.
"Who were you on the phone with?" she asked.
"I called my folks," I explained, "to let 'em know when I'd be
home."
"Oh. Do you need to go?" she asked, her face falling.
"Not yet," I said. "But I need to be home by midnight."
"Curfew?" she asked, half sarcastic, half serious.
"No," I said flatly. "I'm just being responsible." _Or at least
I'm _trying_ to,_ I reflected, thinking about the past several
hours of _ir_responsible behavior. Irresponsible, true, but
sinfully enjoyable, although I sincerely hoped Felicia meant the
"no strings attached" part.
"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to--"
"It's okay," I said quickly.
She smiled gratefully. Then she waggled her eyebrows and let her
eyes roam over my body. "So," she asked, her voice sultry, "what
time is it? How long before you have to leave?"
"Long enough."
"_I'll_ say," she said, her eyes on my dick. Her breasts swayed
as she walked toward me and then knelt at my feet. With a smile,
she began kissing my expanding cock.
We spent the next hour in a frenzy of sex. We fucked on the
floor. We fucked on the desk. We fucked against the wall. We
fucked out in the store itself. We even fucked against the cold
glass of the front window, cars whizzing past on the street. If
anyone had looked, they would've seen Felicia's perfect breasts
pressed against the plate glass as I fucked her from behind, the
heat of her body forming a halo of condensation on the window.
She came twice: once while I bent her over the sales counter and
fucked her from behind, my fingers busy on her clit; the second
time while she rode me in the center of the store, her clit
grinding against the base of my shaft.
Finally, I rolled her to her back and began pounding into her,
intent upon my own orgasm.
"Come inside me," she urged, lifting her hips and thrusting
against me.
After less than a minute, I buried my length in her molten pussy
and then held still. Her pussy clamped around my cock, her
trained muscles rhythmically gripping me. I came with a rush of
sound and sensation, groaning as I blasted her inner walls.
"Oh, God," she gasped. "I can feel it."
Panting, I collapsed against her when my orgasm subsided.
"Oh, God," she whispered over and over, her arms and legs wrapped
around me. Then, "I love the feeling of come inside me. It feels
like... love." With that, she began planting tender kisses on my
shoulder, her breath soft upon my skin.
-----
A little before midnight, we gathered our discarded clothes and
got dressed. Then we put the manager's desk in a semblance of
order and rearranged the racks of clothes that we'd knocked out
of place in the heat of passion.
After we straightened up, I went to the bathroom. I also checked
myself in the mirror. Unfortunately, I was a rumpled mess. I
tucked in my shirt, dragged my fingers through my hair, and hoped
the smell of sex wasn't _too_ obvious.
When I emerged, Felicia looked at me, more awake than ever. I
might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but I knew what
she'd been up to. I didn't say anything, but my look of
disapproval spoke volumes. She saw my expression and self-
consciously wiped her nose.
"So," she asked, changing the subject, "do you wanna get together
sometime? Maybe tomorrow night? I could cook you that T-bone I
promised."
"I can't," I said, a little harsher than I meant to. I smiled to
soften the blow. "I've got to meet... a friend... at the airport."
"Oh... okay."
"Maybe some other time," I suggested.
"Maybe some other time."
I felt guilty. And I felt even more like a cad.
"I knew it wouldn't work anyway," she said.
"You can call me sometime," I suggested. Then I mentally kicked
myself. "When I get back to school, I mean."
She looked up, her dark eyes full of questions.
"I'm pretty busy from now until the end of the year. I mean, I'm
going to Chattanooga for Christmas Eve," I explained, "and then
my family's going on vacation the day after Christmas. As soon as
we get back, I head off to school," I finished.
"That's cool," she said, trying to sound detached.
"Well," I said, after a moment's awkward silence, "I guess we'd
better get going."
"Paul?" she asked suddenly.
I turned.
She looked at me with yearning eyes. Then her face fell. "Never
mind," she said softly. Then, "We'd better lock up, I guess."
As we stood outside the store, I gave her a kiss. I could tell
that she wanted more, especially since she was probably horny
from the coke, but I stuck to a chaste kiss on the cheek. _No
strings attached,_ I tried to silently remind her. _Remember?_
I held her door while she got into her car. Then I got into the
Jeep and started the engine. I waited a moment until she started
her car before I backed out. When I waved goodbye, she waved in
return. Her expression was hard to read, but she didn't look
happy.
She wanted more than I could give, and I shouldn't have let
things go as far as they had. But I couldn't _un_-cross that
bridge. As I drove home, my thoughts were chaotic, and I had the
sinking feeling that "no strings attached" didn't mean the same
thing for both of us.
-----
Copyright (c) 2005 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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