My Sweet Little Cocksucker
by knight_b_4@hotmail.com
Story Codes: m+f+, Mf, oral, mastur, fucking, mentions of inc, cons
Author’s Note: This story involves sexual activity between a variety of people, some of whom are underage. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to read about such things, please delete this story immediately. (And know that you have my sympathies for living in such a repressive atmosphere.) This story is entirely a work of fiction; none of the events described herein actually took place (at least not to the author’s knowledge). The author does not condone sexual activity with minors, although he does recommend most of the following if done with a consenting adult.
This story may be posted with no changes or deletions on a free site, or the free area of a commercial site. The work is copyright 2012 by the author, and all rights are reserved.
Chapter 8 – Sunday
We went to church Sunday morning, as we usually do. We weren’t really a seriously religious family (good thing, or my activities of the last few days would surely have condemned me to Hell), but Mom and Dad felt it was good for me, so we went. Even many years later, Reverend Ristow was still my idea of what a minister should be. He was kind, helpful to those in need, and never preached one of those “fire and brimstone” sermons. His emphasis was always on the “hate the sin, love the sinner” theme; I’m sure if he’d known what Macy and I had done, he’d have chastised me but not condemned me. (Assuming, of course, the shock of finding out a 13-year-old was having sex with an 11-year-old didn’t give him a heart attack.)
Macy and her family were Catholic, but not much more strict than my family, which was one of the reasons Macy didn’t go to Catholic school. Her father had hated it when he went, and refused to send his daughter to “the penguin sadists” as he called them. They had gone to church as well, but since their service was earlier, Macy was already out in the yard, sitting under a tree and reading a book, when we got home. I waved to her, and she waved back.
I quickly changed out of my suit, which had gotten too small over the last couple of months, and put on some jeans and a t-shirt. When I went back out, though, Macy was nowhere to be seen. I assumed she’d gone back inside, and I stepped up on the porch and knocked on the door.
Alex answered, and said Macy had just left on her bike. No, he didn’t know where she was going, and did I want to play some X-box with him. I thanked him but declined, curious about where Macy might be. I had hoped she’d want to do something with me, and not necessarily anything to do with sex (although, I admit, I was hopeful that might be part of whatever else we might do).
Either she’d gone to a friend’s house, or to the park, I reasoned. I couldn’t think of any reason she might’ve gone up to the school, and she’d already been to church. The library was closed on Sundays, so that was out. Her Mom wouldn’t let her ride to the grocery store alone, since she thought it was too far and crossed a couple of major roads.
The park it is, then, I decided. That’s the only place I might actually have a chance of running into her. If she went somewhere else, I’d never meet up with her.
I stuck my head in the door long enough to tell Mom and Dad where I was going, then took off on my bike.
The park was crowded again, families out for a little picnic or some fun in the sun before the weekend was over and the drudgery started again. The swings and climbing cages and all the other playground equipment were jammed; you’d have had to use a shoehorn to fit another kid on anything. The picnic area was full, too, several large groups and a few families filling up all the tables and grills.
No matter where I looked, I couldn’t spot Macy. I could’ve missed her with all the people, but I didn’t think I would. I finally circled back to the restrooms and ducked inside for a quick bit of relief. Locking my bike on the rack, I casually strolled off towards the trees, circling around to get back to the sex bushes (as I now thought of them). I stood outside for a minute listening, but it appeared the little clearing was actually empty for once. I stepped through just to see if they were being quiet, or if it might be someone alone.
Macy wasn’t there, but Beth was, alone oddly enough. She was dressed in jeans and a frilly yellow blouse, instead of her usual dress or skirt. She was sitting on the ground, leaning up against a tree, a $50 bill in her hand, which she was staring at contemplatively.
“Hey, Beth,” I said. She looked up, startled; she hadn’t heard me.
“Oh, hi, Chris,” she said, sounding thoroughly depressed.
“Something wrong?” I asked, sitting down next to hear and also leaning up against the tree.
“No,” she said quickly. Then, “Yes.” Then, “Maybe, I don’t know.” She sighed.
“Well, as long as you’re sure,” I said, hoping to joke her out of it. I got a small smile, but that was it.
“It’s just… well…” she started, then sighed and was silent for a couple of minutes. I didn’t prompt her; I figured whatever she had to say, she’d say when she was ready.
“You know, I really like sex,” she finally said. “I like it a lot. And I cum really easy; it doesn’t take much to set me off.” She was quiet for another couple of minutes. “That’s probably a good thing, I guess. I mean, most of the guys I… I’m with are guys that pay me. I don’t fuck around much with guys at school, ‘cause I don’t want to get a reputation.” She looked at me and smiled a crooked smile. “You should feel honored, Chris, you’re one of the select few.” I smiled and put an arm around her, and she snuggled a little closer.
“I do feel honored, Beth,” I said. “Can’t think of anyone I’d rather have had take my cherry.” She put her hand on my leg and squeezed.
“Thanks. That… means a lot.” She was quiet again, and I didn’t realize she was crying until a drop fell on my leg. I pulled her tight then and held her while she cried. She didn’t make much noise or a big production out of it, she just cried quietly for a while, and snuffled a bit for a while after she was done.
“You know,” she finally said. “The guys that give me money don’t really care. They want to get off, and they don’t care whether I do or not. That’s why I said it’s a good thing I ‘pop’ easy; if I didn’t, I wouldn’t get off most of the time.” She sighed. “When I saw you and Macy yesterday, just cuddling afterwards, it made me think about how nice that must be. No one’s ever done that with me. It’s just get on, get off and get off.” She sighed again.
“Maybe you just need to pick better guys,” I said. “And maybe if you stopped doing it for money, you might have time to find someone who wants to cuddle you, and just wants you for you.”
“You know, it’s funny about that,” she said. “I come home with lots of nice clothes, and I’ve got an iPod, and other stuff, and not once have my folks asked where the money comes from. It’s like they don’t really care, as long as I don’t get in trouble.”
I couldn’t imagine my own parents doing that. If I came home with something, they wanted to know immediately where it came from. Her parents sounded like Gary Simons’ parents. Gary was a guy I used to know, who moved away a couple of years ago. His parents had come right out and told Gary and his brother Matt that the only reason they had kids is because people expected them to. If Gary’s grandparents didn’t have a lot of money and insist on grandchildren, they never would’ve done it.
I wondered if Beth’s parents were the same way. That would really suck. I resolved to be nicer to my parents, at least for a while.
“I guess I just want someone to think I matter, you know?” she said, and began crying again. I held her tight, and kissed her on the head.
“You matter to me, Beth,” I said. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, and we don’t hang around together or anything, but I think you’re good people. I wish things were better for you.”
She wrapped her arms around me and continued weeping softly. We sat that way for a long time, while Beth cried out her hurt and I did what I could to comfort her; when you’re 13, there’s not a whole lot you know how to do. Her sobbing lessened and finally quit, and we sat there for a while longer, her head against my chest, my arms around her.
After a time, she lifted her face to mine. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks still slightly wet, but she smiled bravely at me. And then our lips met and we were kissing passionately, tongues dueling, hugging each other.
Unfortunately, Macy chose that time to walk into the clearing, looking for me.
I heard a gasp and a sob, and broke away from Beth just in time to see Macy’s back as she fled.
“Shit,” I said, and tried to break away from Beth. She was reluctant to let me go.
“Please, Chris, stay with me,” she begged.
“I’m sorry, Beth,” I said, kissing her one last, quick time. “I’m your friend and I’ll usually be here when you need me. But Macy needs me, too. And I love her.”
That was a surprise. I suppose down deep I’d already known that, but only when I said it did I realize consciously that it was true. I loved Macy. Beth was fun, Beth was my friend, and in some sense I loved her too, but Macy was the girl I wanted to be with.
I ran after her, and caught up with her just as she was unlocking her bike from the rack.
“Macy!” I called from a few yards away. “Don’t go!”
She looked back over her shoulder, and I’ve never seen such a look of hurt and agony on a human face, before or since. I hope never to again. She was crying, her eyes screwed up so hard I don’t think she could see. She dropped her bike chain and turned to run, but I caught up with her before she’d gone two feet.
“Wait!” I said as I grabbed her. “Let me explain.” She tried to get away (though not too hard) and then went limp, head turned away.
“Macy,” I said desperately. “I love you.” She gave a choked laugh.
“So you’re kissing another girl? Funny way of showing it.”
“No, no. That was when I realized I love you.”
“You realized you love me by making out with another girl? What kind of weirdo are you?”
“Macy, please. That’s not what happened.” I started talking, as fast as I could, telling her what happened. As I went on, her crying slowed and finally stopped, and I was able to slow down and talk at a more reasonable speed. I didn’t let Macy go, and finally was able to draw her in close, my arms around her back.
“And then you walked in on us, and I saw how hurt you were that I was with her. And that’s when it finally realized I love you, and that’s why I left Beth and came after you. Macy, will you be my girlfriend? Please?”
She was looking at me, eyes puffy but her tears had dried. She gave me that penetrating, deep Macy stare, as if she was reading my soul. Finally, she reached up and stroked my cheek.
“Oh, Chris,” she said. “Poor Beth. You be nice to her, now, she needs you.”
I was thoroughly confused.
“You want me to go back to Beth?” I was crushed. The girl I loved was rejecting me. The girl who’d been my close friend for years, the first girl I’d ever kissed (we were 7 and 5 at the time), the first girl who’d ever beaten me at a video game, the first girl who… well, who a lot of things.
“No!” she said, forcefully enough to make me jump. “Not for good, anyway. And of course I’ll be your girlfriend. I love you, too.” She kissed me quickly at that, pulling back when I tried to deepen it. “But Beth is your friend… our friend, too. And she’s hurting right now, and she needs you. C’mon.”
Macy took my hand and began heading back for the clearing, pulling me along. To say I was confused was to say the sea is kind of deep.
Beth was still sitting against the tree, but she was crying again. Macy pulled me through the gap, then dropped my hand and sat down next to Beth and put her arms around her. I sat down on the other side, and hugged her too. We were still sitting that way when a couple of kids in our class stuck their heads in through the hedge. They saw us, looked embarrassed and left again.
“Beth,” Macy finally said, “I’m sorry. I know you wanted Chris for your boyfriend” I was dumbstruck at that “but I guess it’s me he wants after all. I figured he’d go for you, since I’m not ready to fuck yet, and I figured he’d be a typical guy and go for getting laid, but I was wrong. He decided he wants me. But that doesn’t mean he won’t… that we won’t be your friends, right, Chris?”
I nodded.
“I might even let you two fuck every now and then,” she added with a grin. Both Beth and I were dumbstruck this time. “But even if he doesn’t, we’re still here for you. And we want you to be friends, and hang around with us, and have fun together. OK?”
She looked at Macy in wonder, then nodded. She turned to me, giving me a very Macy-like intense stare before she asked, “Is that OK with you, Chris?”
“Of course it is,” I said, finally finding my voice again. “You’re a nice girl, Beth, and if I wasn’t already in love with Macy, I’d have been happy to be your boyfriend. Even with the things you do with other people, although I’ve gotta admit, that would’ve bothered me a lot.”
She smiled at that.
“Maybe I’ll quit doing that,” she said. “Well, at least I’ll cut down. I don’t really like it that much, and I’ve got enough toys and clothes. For now, anyway.” She smiled and wiped away the last of her tears. “You guys are great, you know that?”
Epilogue
Macy and I were together for almost a year before we broke up, arguing over something stupid that should never have happened. We avoided each other for a couple of months after that, but eventually became friends again. (And no, I didn’t get her cherry, then or later. Her father got that about a month after we broke up. Her brother’s was the second cock in her pussy. By the time mine got there, it was down to fifth.)
Beth started spending time with us, and we got to be close. She never fully quit making money at sex, but true to her word, she cut down quite a bit. It was her intervention that got Macy and I back together as friends after we broke up, making us realize even if we weren’t lovers, we still cared about each other.
Beth and I dated for a while in high school, but we only lasted about 3 months before we broke up, too. This one was much less traumatic, since we both realized it just wasn’t working and we should just stick to being friends. We fucked off and on all through the rest of middle school and high school, except a few times when one or the other of us was dating someone semi-seriously.
Macy too dated other people, until her sophomore (my senior) year. Then, we got back together. We stayed together until I graduated, then still stayed together when I went off to college. She gave me permission (as I did her) to date and have sex with others while we were apart, but both of us hoped the other wouldn’t find anyone else.
We didn’t. We both had a great time for two years until Macy joined me in an off-campus apartment. After graduation, I found a job in the same town and we stayed together until Macy too graduated. We were married three months later, and have been together ever since.
Our sex life is still great, and sometimes Beth joins us (separately or together) and every now and then one or the other of us will “get a little on the side” or bring someone into our shared bed. 
We’ve been married more than 20 years now, and she’s still, and always will be, my sweet little cocksucker.