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Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2005 11:09:42 +0000

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--- DECODED ATTACHMENT (callgirlcheerleaders#11.txt) ---




Ch. 11 Codes: Mf, Mf, teen, oral, drugs, rom









CHAPTER ELEVEN



I awoke with a start in the middle of the night.  I smelled Marianne beside

me and reached for her.



But she wasn't there.  She had gone home just before eleven.  What I smelled

was her sweat and cum and sex on the sheets, leavings from where we had made

love like wild animals after coming home.



I pulled her pillow to me and held it instead.



What had I gotten myself into?	She was seventeen, for Christ's sake, not

even out of high school yet.  She lived with her parents--a father who was

scarcely older than I was--and her fifteen-year-old sister.  I was in way too

deep for a situation like this.



And yet, as I was inside her earlier that night, riding between her thighs,

watching her big tits shaking on her chest and her face twisting into a

rictus of agonized ecstasy underneath me, one thought had speared through my

mind.  A mad thought, an insane and illegal and perverted thought, but

sincere nonetheless.  Whatever else this idea might be, it had the ring of

fundamental truth, the sort of thing that dissolves all rationalizations and

denials.



I loved this girl.



She was it, the one I wanted, the one I had been waiting for since I was her

age.  I wanted to marry her, knock her up, fill her with babies.  I wanted to

run off with her and make her mine for good.



She would be eighteen in a few weeks.  That would change things

substantially, but the fact remained that she was still a kid.	I had no

guarantee that she would not wake up one morning and decide that screwing

someone her father's age was disgusting, and thereafter want nothing to do

with me.



Even if she had as much as told me she loved me last night.  Because love at

seventeen was not the same thing as love at forty-one.



I rolled on my back, putting her pillow over my face.  Whatever was going on,

I had to ride it out one way or another.



When I returned home from a day of stewing at work when I should have been

making money, I saw her out by the pool, lying in a sunbed, facing the

backyard.  I came up behind her, bending down to kiss her--and then realized

that it wasn't Marianne.  It was Hayley.



She looked up in surprise, and then giggled.



"Go ahead and kiss her," said the voice behind me.  "I don't care."



I turned to see Marianne in the pool, pushing her long hair back over her

head, squeezing the water out.	She was topless, wearing nothing but a lime

green thong.  Her sister was similarly dressed, or undressed, in black bikini

bottoms.  The top to her suit lay forgotten on a beach bag beside her.



Hayley was still looking up at me with a smile on her lips, so I bent down

and kissed her freckled little nose.  Marianne climbed out of the pool and

pressed her wet body against me.



"You thought she was me?"



"Momentarily."



"That happens a lot.  Even our mom does it sometimes."



She kissed me.



"Go change and come back out."



When I returned, the two of them were lying side by side in their sunbeds,

passing Marianne's bong back and forth.  Marianne handed it to me as I sat

down on the end of her chair, and I finished it off.



Hayley caressed my calf with her toes, smiling at me.



"Take her inside," Marianne said, grinning.  "Wear her out so she'll go home."



"What about you?"



"I'm going to stay down here.  I just feel like taking a nap."



Hayley got up from her chair, taking my hand and pulling me into the house. 

When we got to the bedroom, she slipped out of her bikini bottoms and climbed

into bed.



"Your sister is very understanding," I said as I crawled up next to her.



"She's pretty cool.  We share a lot of stuff.  So I guess this isn't as weird

as it might seem."



I looked down at her next to me.  She was like a miniature Marianne, a

younger, shorter, less experienced version.  They didn't look exactly alike,

but there were enough similarities between the two of them to overwhelm the

differences.



She lay still on her back as I played with her, feeling her firm tits and

smooth stomach.  Her pubic hair was sparse and thin, still developing.	When

I bent to kiss her, she put her arms around my neck and sucked on my tongue. 

I squeezed her breast in my hand, feeling the firmness, comparing her to

Marianne in my mind.  Hayley I could just get into one hand; Marianne was way

beyond that point.



Hayley writhed against me as I tweaked her nipples, and soon I bent down to

suckle her breasts.  She held my head in her arms as I did it.



"That feels nice."



I reached between her thighs, which she spread for me, feeling the moisture

growing between her lips.



"Marianne's fucked girls, hasn't she?"



I stopped, looking up at her.



"Why?"



"I'm just asking."



"Yes.  Does that bug you?"



"I don't know.	We've never talked about it, but I could tell the other day

when Ashley came over.	Just something weird about the way they were talking.

 Was she one of them?"



"The only one, as far as I know."



She stared up at the ceiling.



"Wow."



"She says she just did it for me, not because she's bisexual."



"You know what's weird?  I was thinking about that this morning, and it

occurred to me, how would you really know?  If you were blindfolded or

something, and someone went down on you, why would it make a diff what sex

they are?  Guys and girls both have tongues."



"Good point."



"I'm not saying I want to do it, but it's true, you know?"



Trying not to smile too hard at this sage observation, I went back to sucking

her nipples and exploring her pussy with my fingers.  She began to moan and

writhe a little, and I slid further down until I was between her thighs.  She

pulled her legs up, opening herself to me, and I buried myself in her wet

folds, making love to her with my tongue.  Her legs kicked and thrashed

around me.  Her body squirmed on the sheets, sliding back and forth as she

braced herself against the headboard.  One hand went to her breasts,

massaging them roughly, pinching the nipples.  Her right foot drummed against

my back and her buttocks kept heaving up at me like she wanted to buck me

off, but every time I withdrew a little, that hand on her tits would shoot

down and pull me closer.  My tongue was spinning all around her, and she

fought me and her impending orgasm as if she were in pain.  Finally, she let

out a shriek, heaved herself at me, thighs battering my ears, and came.



I stayed between her quivering legs for a few moments before sliding up

beside her.  She kept shaking and grasping at me, eyes closed, for nearly a

minute.



"Shit.	Shit.  That is like . . . like a hundred, a thousand times better

that doing it myself."



"Good."



"How does Marianne stand it?"



"She's in good shape."



She sat up halfway and slithered across my chest, finding my erection with

her mouth and going to work.  She gave me only about ten seconds of suction

before laying back and pulling me onto her.  I slipped into her easily,

grunting at the tightness of her as she tried to get me further in, feeling

all those smooth cheerleading muscles loosening up.  She held me as close as

she could, not letting me withdraw, and as I lifted up, she came with me,

making a fulcrum out of her pubis and forcing me harder against her.  I

thrust forward, making her almost swing under me, grinding downward.



She clung to me as if she were drowning, one mouth sucking at mine for air,

the other sucking at my cock for something more fundamental.  She was tight,

too tight, almost painful, but she had none of her sister's experience.  All

she could do was pump herself at me, begging me to make her come again, not

letting me withdraw from her more than an inch or two.



With rough little thrusts, I began to thump against her.  She squeaked,

suddenly sounding even younger than her fifteen years, biting at my shoulder.

 Her second climax came suddenly and unexpectedly, a gasp and a shudder under

me, a clench of her muscles around my erection.  As she shook in my arms, I

lost my grip on what little control I had, and I drove into her relentlessly.

 Hayley shrieked and spiked up at me again a minute or so later as I felt my

balls growing heavier and heavier with their imminent payload.	Finally, as

she continued to twitch and quiver in the aftermath of her orgasm, I spurted

off helplessly inside her pulsing flesh.



When I rolled off her to catch my breath, I saw Marianne in the doorway

watching us, naked.  One index finger had been idly working between her

thighs, and it now rose to her mouth.  She smiled at me, then walked

languidly over to the bed and lay down beside me, opposite her sister.



"Hi."



"How long have you been there?"



"Long enough."



Hayley sat up, brushing her hair back from her face.



"That was great."



Marianne looked over at her.



"Okay, short stuff.  You've had your fun.  Think you can give us some time

alone now?"



Hayley giggled.



"Yeah."



She bent and kissed me one last time.



"Thanks.  Bye."



She hopped off the bed and went downstairs, pausing only to grab her bikini

bottoms off the floor.	I heard her exiting the front door about a minute

later.



Marianne stretched out against me, and I hugged her.  She nuzzled my chin

slowly.



"I can't decide if I'm jealous of Hayley."



A chill ran down my spine, and I pulled slightly away from her.



"I thought you wanted this."



She moved up the bed after me.



"No.  That's not what I mean.  I can't decide if I'm jealous that you're the

only guy she's done it with.  That you were her first.	Part of me wishes I

hadn't done it with anyone else.  But then I think that if I hadn't, I

wouldn't have anything to compare you to.  I wouldn't know how lucky I am to

have you."



I relaxed, seeing her meaning now, and pulled her closer.



"I would have been happy to be your first lover."



She giggled.



"At fifteen, in an attic, like it was?	I was just like Hayley is.  Too horny

for my own good.  I could have gotten pregnant that afternoon.	I still

shudder to think of that."



"Did you do it with him again?"



"No.  Once was enough.	Afterward, I was totally like, 'That's it?'  It was a

while before I discovered that sex could actually be enjoyable."



"Randy, or whatever his name was?"



She laughed.



"Hardly.  It was the second boy I slept with.  A college guy I met at this

cheerleader camp.  We only had one weekend together, but God, he knew what he

was doing.  He wasn't as good as you, but he was a hell of a lot better than

Ashley's brother.  And Randy."



She kissed my neck.



"No.  It's good you weren't my first.  I just want you to be my last."



We lay together caressing each other for a while.  Marianne reached between

us, finding my cock and stroking it gently until I was hard again.  Then she

pulled me onto her, and I slipped into her wetness slowly.  She grunted as I

filled her up, arching her back.  She pulled my head down and kissed me

roughly.



"No one else," she moaned, "no one else is ever going to fuck me.  Ever.  I

don't want anyone else.  I only want you."



I buried my tongue in her mouth and my erection inside her.  Her arms went

tight around my back and her legs slipped over my thighs.  She pulled her

feet up until they were tickling my butt, urging me on.  She curled up to my

ear as she usually did, biting my earlobe and moaning to me.



"I love your dick.  I love fucking you.  I love being on my back with you

inside me."  She whimpered.  "Oh, God.	No one else.  No one else.  I'll fuck

girls if you want me to, but no one else.  No one's dick but yours can fuck

me.  No one.  No one, oh fuck, oh God, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me, oh God,

fuck me!"



Her body went rigid as if she were being electrocuted, and her nails gouged

out tracks in my back.	I felt her tight flesh spasming around my cock as I

pounded her mercilessly.  A shrill cry squealed from between her clenched

teeth as she clung to me.  I groaned, the pain of impending ejaculation

growing my groin.  Marianne fucked her hips at me roughly, trying to stretch

out her orgasm long enough to let me join her, to feel my cum spurting into

her.  It rose in a torrent, passing into her in long, convulsive, shots.  I

continued shaking above her long after it was over and Marianne began slowly

relaxing under me.  Then I fell onto her body with a gasp.



I fell asleep.	When I woke, it was after nine, and Marianne still lay beside

me, head on my shoulder.  She stretched when I moved, and sat up.



"Hey."



"Hey, kitten."



She smiled.



"I like when you call me that."



"You shouldn't have let me sleep this long."



"I couldn't help it.  I never get to sleep beside you."



"You should get home before your folks start to worry."



She flopped back down next to me with a frustrated groan.



"I don't *want* to go home.  I want to stay here."  She put her hands over

her face.  "Why did I have to be stuck in this life when I met you?  Why

couldn't we have met a year from now, when I could do whatever the fuck I

wanted?"



"You're going to be eighteen in what, two weeks?"



"Two and a half.  But I won't graduate for another eight *months.*  What am I

supposed to do until then?"



"Be patient.  Eight months isn't forever."



"My folks will figure this out sooner or later.  People are already starting

to talk at school."



"What are they saying?"



"Oh, just 'Marianne and her rich boyfriend.'  'She's too full of herself to

date guys under twenty-five.'  That sort of shit."



"Not the girls on the squad?"



"No.  They don't care; they like you.  But you know how it is."



"Yeah.  I'm not that old."



She giggled, snuggling with me.



"You know, I don't even think of that anymore, really.	That you're older

than me.  Just that you're Steve, my boyfriend, and I love you."



"I love you too, kitten."



She giggled again.



"Meow."



* * *










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