Message-ID: <3487eli$9709011152@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: mccoyf@millcomm.com (Frank McCoy) Subject: REPOST: GARANTEE.TXT 250K"The Guarantee" (Mf, cons, incest, teen/pedo, preg, novel) Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest,alt.sex.stories.incest,alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199708311729.MAA05083@midas.millcomm.com> until we got home that first night. "Let's go," she whispered in my ear. "I can't WAIT to get started." Well, that was the whole idea; to go out on a date. So, just like with her big sister, two minutes later Ginny and I found ourselves alone on the front porch; while the door shut with a behind us. With a girl as young as Ginny, I hadn't been too sure what she would want. So, I had just brought along most of the money I had made mowing lawns and added it to my allowance, in hopes that we could find someplace that we both enjoyed, to have fun. Though my parents were out for the night themselves, I sure didn't plan on taking Ginny over to our place, and just watching television. I wanted HER to enjoy this too. Lonnie had already guaranteed that I would have a good time. It was up to me to see to it that my dates did. Still, I wasn't sure WHAT Ginny liked. We could go to a movie, we could go to a fancy restaurant, or to the park, or even to the library, if she liked books like Betty-Lou and I had done. If I had felt funny going out with Suzy, I felt like a child-raping pedophile with her 10-year-old little sister. When we got out the door, I asked Ginny what she wanted to do. Go and eat dinner . . . go to a movie, like her big sister had . . . go skating . . . or what? "I want to go over to your house and fuck," she said, "just like my big sister does." I almost had a heart-attack. 50 When she saw my reaction, Ginny changed her tactics a little; from all-out brazen, to pleading little girl that MUCH better suited the "kinderslut" outfit she was wearing. "Please," she pleaded, "I've been wanting to try it ever since I first saw you and Suzy two weeks ago. She liked it SO much, and you were SO nice to her, and I didn't dare even stand there and watch; though I wanted to so bad." Oh shit. Ginny HAD gotten up to go to the toilet that night, and had seen the two of us going at it like rabbits. Only instead of being disgusted or frightened at seeing her sister and the boy next door fucking in the living-room, Ginny had just envied her big sister, and then bugged Suzy until she got the older girl to convince MY big sister to let her be "next" on the list. I wonder who Lonnie had originally planned for that night? "Uh . . . are you sure?" I asked. I really HAD wanted to get laid that night, but I hadn't really expected to get in the pants of Suzy's little sister! I mean . . . 10 years old? Still, if Ginny really WANTED it . . . she did. It seems that Ginny KNEW my parents were going to be out; almost as if she had arranged it. She wanted to go right on over to my room, and "Fuck our brains out." In fact, she used those very words. What could I say? Nothing . . . so I did it. Yes, I fucked my girlfriend's 10 year old little sister. And surprisingly, I don't feel the least bit guilty about it. Ginny wanted it. Her big sister knew about it, and didn't seem to mind. (Mind? Hell, Suzy set me up!) Her parents, if they didn't mind, sure were being awfully ambiguous about it if they did. Even my parents seemed to be somewhat cooperative, leaving the house to me and Ginny. (Well, maybe they didn't know what Ginny had planned, but if they were worried about me boffing one of the neighbor girls, they would almost certainly have NOT left the house vacant for the two of us to use.) Somehow it ended up almost a race to my house, to see who got there first, and who got undressed first. Only I stopped Ginny. "Do you mind?" I asked, as I stopped her from pulling the short little dress off. "Huh?" she asked. "I always wanted to 'peel a tomato.'" I explained with a giggle. (My parents once brought home the movie "The Sterile Cuckoo". That line is the only thing about the movie I remember.) Ginny giggled, when I explained, but consented, "Only if I get to peel the potato," she snickered. We were both in such a giddy mood of giggling, that I found it hard to undress her. Damn, what a sexy outfit! Not to mention, what a sexy little girl inside it. I unzipped Ginny's dress in the back, and then peeled it down over her shoulders and arms. It kind of WAS like "peeling a tomato." I couldn't resist kissing the little girl on the navel, once I got the dress off. She looked SO sexy there, in bra, panties, and shoes. The feel of her bare skin against my fingers was almost shocking, each time I touched her, or reached to take off another article of clothing. Such a perfect little-girl body. 51 For those of you who've never undressed a girl before, it's fun. Awkward, but fun. My touch kept bringing unexpected giggles from Ginny; making me fumble with things just when I thought I had them figured out. It seems so easy, doesn't it? Just unzip the dress, and let it fall off. Then unsnap the girl's bra, and slip it over her shoulders. That will leave you with her panties and shoes. No big deal, huh? Oh yeah? In the first place, most people aren't used to being touched. Especially in unexpected places, by a person of the opposite sex. This caused Ginny to giggle and flinch each time I figured I had a "handle" on things. Like when I reached for her zipper, Ginny almost yanked it out of my hand, when she first felt my touch on the back of her neck. Then sliding the tight little dress off her body was harder than expected, as it was cut so close to her body size and shape that it was a struggle to get it over her hips. (Up to now, I hadn't thought the little girl HAD any hips to speak of. Ginny, it turned out, was more woman in many ways than I expected.) The feel of smooth little-girl skin against my hand almost made ME jump; it was so sexy. After helping her step out of the dress, I tried her bra next. I think the designers of women's brassieres must all be frustrated old women who hate men. It's almost as if they are DESIGNED to be hard for a man to remove. There's these funny little wire hooks, that are so tight you have to push them off backwards. And they don't want to go. (Of course, If I was a brassiere on a pretty girl, I wouldn't want to go either.) It took me almost two minutes of fussing to get that stupid thing unhooked. All the time Ginny was giggling, and then each time I thought I had it, she would jerk at my touch in some unexpected spot, and I would lose the damned thing again. Finally, I got all three hooks undone, and slipped it off. There WAS a little padding in the cups, but not all the stuff filling the bra was padding. Some of it was real live girl. In spite of being only 10, (well OK, almost 11) Ginny was starting to fill out in the most delightful places. Even Suzy didn't have that much on her little sister. If I had had any sense, I would have left the little girl's panties for last. But who said I had any sense? I mean, taking out a 10 year old kid, and then going right next door and getting her undressed to fuck her? That's being smart? Oh well. As it was, Ginny ended up standing in front of me, naked except for panties and shoes, while I had my face almost in her bellybutton; trying to remove those same panties. The smell almost knocked me down. NO! I don't mean that, idiot! Ginny did NOT stink. Far from it, in fact. Ginny smelled like nice clean little girl, fresh from the shower. (I guess she was; having just finished bathing before we left.) There was only the faintest hint of sexy smell coming from her already lubricating young cunny. It's just that the mere smell of pretty little girl right in my nose was so exciting I almost came in my shorts, without even taking them off. 52 I couldn't resist . . . I put my face close to Ginny, and licked her bellybutton. Of course it was a mistake. Ginny jerked away at the tickling sensation; I grabbed at her, and we both ended up in a giggling heap on the floor. This time I did it right, and KISSED her soundly on the navel, before we got back up so that I could do what I had started to do: Remove her panties. Golly what a sexy sight. Not one trace of hair from her cute little navel down to the puffy dent that showed where her sex was. The dent was so big that somehow I didn't doubt that Ginny could take my prick up inside her, in spite of her tender age. I hurriedly removed the panties, before the aroma of sexy little girl in my nose made me lose control. Then, Ginny sat on the bed, while I removed her shoes and socks. Beautiful feet. I had never been particularly turned on by feet before, but ones like Ginny's almost made a foot-fetish man out of me. Perfect little feet, with perfect little toes. Slender ankles led up to slightly swelling thighs, which led to . . . OOOoooh! "Down boy!" I chided myself. It wasn't until Ginny reached for me when I was finished, that I remembered her part of the deal. I was to be undressed by Ginny, just like I had undressed her. I hoped I could manage to let her, without embarrassing myself. Well, I did, but just barely. It was only the unexpected shocks and giggles that kept me from squirting thick white greasy gobs of cum all over the little girl's face or hands, when she removed MY undershorts. The rest of it I managed by just gritting my teeth and shivering at each sensual touch. There was a slight pause, when Ginny tried to remove my pants without pulling my shoes off first, but that was only fair after the contretemp I had when trying to remove her bra. I guess she wasn't any more experienced at undressing the opposite sex than I was. (Surprise, surprise.) When Ginny finished, we stood there for a moment just looking at each other, until I realize that Ginny was waiting for me to start something. After all, I was the "expert" here. (Yeah . . . Sex eight times, with two different girls, and that makes me an expert, huh? Well, compared to Ginny, I guess I was.) Thank goodness ONE of us had some experience before. I think there should be some law, that all virgins should be initiated by someone who knows what they are doing. Can you imagine a boy and a girl trying to get things right for the first time, with neither one knowing what they were doing? God, what a disaster. I have since read of just such things happening. In fact, in an article about some honeymoon-resorts in the Poconos, I read where some couples actually get married and are in their 20's, for Christ's sake, and both of them are virgins. Can you imagine how tough a girl's virginity gets, if she hangs onto it for 20 years? Well, with Ginny and me, it wasn't QUITE "the blind leading the blind" but it was close enough to be awkward. 53 With Suzy and I, things had just seemed natural; flowing from seduction, to foreplay, to intercourse, in an almost seamless manner. Even when we fucked, it was just one little step further along. With Ginny, it was like I was raping some virgin-sacrifice on an alter. Never mind that Ginny wanted this almost as much as I did. Seeing the little girl lying there naked on the bed, waiting to be fucked, was more a turn-off at wondering what to do, than turn-on at knowing she wanted me inside her just as much as I did. Luckily I retained a little sense, and didn't just climb on top of her and fuck, like Ginny seemed to want. Figuring that what was good for her big sister would be good for her too; I bent over and started "feeling her up." Uhuh. I ran my hands up and down her body, then started kissing her all over, as I tried to duplicate the erotic time Suzy and I had in the car two weeks before. I must have done something right, because Ginny started moaning and squirming and best of all, kissing me back. Shortly we were two squirming bodies on the bed; as we both did our best to make the other feel good. I don't remember all the things we did, but it must have been at least 10 minutes later, while I was gently massaging Ginny's face, as we stopped occasionally to give each other pecks on the lips, and I was trying to memorize every line of the little girl's face, that I first felt my prick slip between Ginny's legs. I had almost forgotten about having sex. Making love like this was almost as much fun. Still, the feel of my prick rubbing against the furrow of the little girl's sex was hard to ignore. Ginny had noticed it too, and looked down between our bodies. "Are you sure?" I asked; the first word either of us had said in over ten minutes. Ginny didn't ask what I was talking about. She just spread her legs enough to give me better access. The next thing I knew, the head of my prick was pushing into the tight little hole between the 10-year-old's legs. Sounds sexy, doesn't it? Well, it was, and it wasn't. It was sexy to feel the child's tight little hole surround the tip of my prick. In fact, I almost squirted her full of sperm, without ever getting inside her. What was NOT sexy, was the fact that I couldn't get it in! We were both too dry. Now you may not believe this; thinking that by this time Ginny must have been as aroused as she was going to get, and my prick should have been leaking pre-cum for the previous half- hour. Well, you'd be right, and you'd be wrong. Both of us WERE highly aroused, and HAD been lubricating. Only it wasn't lubrication where we needed it. There was an, "Ow!" from Ginny, before I managed to wipe the head of my prick around her drooling snatch; lubricating both of us enough that the head of my prick popped into her tight little hole. 54 After that, the shaft of my prick was STILL dry, so it took a couple of in-and-out shoves, before I managed to get two inches of solid prick inside her, evoking yet another, "Ow," from Ginny. THIS time, the barrier was inside her. With Suzy, we had been so worked-up and involved, that she had hardly noticed the loss of her virginity to my finger. With Ginny, there was no way she was going to miss it. "Are you sure?" I asked again. "Please," whimpered Ginny. I knew she did NOT mean, "Please pull out." So I did it. I worked my prick in and out a couple of times to get more of our juices spread around, then on the third time in, I just kept going. A tight ring surrounded the tip of my penis, and then spread around it; then spread some more, until suddenly I had four inches of solid prick inside the little girl and the unlubricated part kept me from going in any farther. It was too much. With only 4 inches of my prick buried in her tight little snatch, I suddenly began squirting thick sticky gobs of sperm all over the inside of the little girl's vagina. I couldn't help it. Ginny just lay there and groaned. I guess that once the initial pain was over, she didn't mind it so much, but she didn't really enjoy it either. Damn. Still, Ginny didn't ask me to pull off either. In fact, once she got used to feeling me inside her, she pulled back about an inch, and then pushed forward. Twice she did this, until my prick was all the way up inside her, and the last of my potent sperm was dribbling against her immature cervix. "There," said Ginny; suppressing a sniffle. "At least Suzy can't say I didn't fuck you properly. Now you just fuck me, and cum in me all you want to . . . OK?" I almost snickered. Luckily, I have more control than that. Ginny sounded SO proud that she had managed to fuck her big sister's boyfriend. "Thanks Ginny," I said, "but I already did." "Huh?" said Ginny. "I already came," I amplified. "But I didn't FEEL anything," she complained. It was only when I pulled out, and showed the little girl the white goo dripping from my prick and her newly deflowered snatch, that she believed me. "Let's do it again," she said. "I want to feel the good parts, where you cum in me while we're both liking it, like Suzy does. I know it's got to feel better than doing it myself; from watching the way you two like it." Oh shit. I wouldn't be ready to go again, for at least another half hour, and maybe even longer. I pointed this out to Ginny. "Well, what do we do NOW?" she asked. "Well," I replied, "we ARE on a 'date.' Why don't we go get something to eat, or go to a show or something. Then when we get back, maybe you'll be feeling better, and I won't be so horny I blow it from overexcitement. What do you say?" 55 It took us only 10 minutes to get washed up, and dressed. It's amazing how much faster it goes when you do things yourself. Twenty minutes later, we were in a truck-stop ordering dinner. Ginny did NOT want to wait for reservations at a fancy place, and I didn't want to take her to the same place I had taken her big sister. Comments from earlier about "robbing the cradle" came to mind. If Carol ever figured out that I was fucking not only Suzy, but her little sister as well . . . All during the meal, Ginny and I "played footsie" under the table. It was only the knowing smirk on the waitress's lips, that made us stop. All I needed, was to be arrested for "molesting" a little girl. Damn, it sure didn't FEEL like I was molesting her. When we left the diner, I tried to convince Ginny that maybe we should still go to a movie or something, but she wouldn't have it. "Let's go back to your place," she said. "This time it'll work out better, I'm sure." What could I say? So, we ended back up in my room, with half the night still left. This time, we undressed ourselves. You know what? It's almost as sexy watching a little girl get undressed for YOU, as it is to undress her. Just knowing she is taking her clothes off so she can cuddle up naked with you is almost as exciting as taking her clothes off yourself. The second time, there was no fooling around or fumbling. After cuddling together and smooching for a bare-minimum time necessary to get my hard-on back up to snuff, I wet it with my saliva, and slid home inside the little girl with a rush. This time, Ginny only let out a slight, "Ouch," as My prick bottomed out in her. Also this time, I didn't cum inside her immediately on feeling the child's tight little hole surrounding my prick in a warm, wet, wonderful embrace. For ten wonderful minutes we lay there, while I slowly slid my engorged prick in and out, before I finally lost control and sent my seed spurting high into the little girl's welcoming young womb. Ginny still didn't get off, but for the last six of the ten minutes, I knew she was starting to enjoy feeling me sliding in and out, almost as much as I liked feeling her tight little cunny squeezing and milking on my horny cock. This time, while Ginny still didn't feel me squirting inside her, (I don't think a woman can.) she DID know I was getting off, and held me close while I spurted and jerked inside her. Afterwards, we just lay there together, with my wilting prick held inside her tight little hole, while we cuddled and stroked each other. It was with some surprise, (to me, anyway) that about a half-hour later, my prick started to swell again, without ever pulling out. "Ooohh, I feel that," said Ginny, with a grin. She started working against me; working life back into my prick with her tight little hole. I hadn't even known you COULD fuck a second time without pulling out. That didn't stop me from doing it though. 56 This time, it seemed like my prick would NEVER fire. In and out; in and out. On and on I fucked, until my prick was almost getting sore. I was about to give up and pull out, when I noticed Ginny's eyes getting wide, and her movements suddenly got frantic. Well, if she wanted to get me off one more time, I decided to try. Only Ginny wasn't concerned about me. With a screech that I was worried would be heard by her parents next door, Ginny suddenly grabbed me in a bear-hug and started bucking wildly and uncontrollably underneath me. Once my prick came out for a second, in her wild gyrations, but she got it in after an, "Ow!" from both of us when she missed the first time. Such a commotion and milking and squeezing on my prick I had never felt. Ginny was already tighter than either her big sister or Betty-Lou, but this was unbelievable. It almost felt like she was going to cut the damned thing off. Finally, Ginny's wild commotion came to an end. I don't know if I came in her during that wild ride or not. In any case, my prick was wilting, and I felt comfortably sated with sex . . . . Seven hours later, Lonnie was poking me in the ribs. Ginny and I had fallen asleep, still sexually joined, after that last great fuck where she got her rocks off, for the first time, with a man inside her tight little snatch. Lonnie just grinned at the sight of her little brother pulling his limp wet prick out of the little girl next door. "You'd better be getting back," she commented. "It's after 5:00 in the morning. Besides, Mom and Dad will be coming home pretty soon, and I'm not too sure what they'd say about finding you two like this." Holy shit, Batman! Such a mad scramble to get dressed and out, you never did see! Ginny told me I didn't have to get dressed; it wasn't all THAT far to her house, that she couldn't make it next door, without me. I didn't buy it. I had taken Ginny out on a date, and I would see her home properly . . . . Even if it WAS too late, I could face the music like she would. I ran Tammy's instructions through my head . . . no, (Thank Goodness.) she HADN'T insisted that I bring Ginny home early, like she had when I took out Suzy. Maybe it was an oversight, and maybe she just expected me to know that the rules that applied to her older sister applied to the younger girl too. Whatever. At least I hadn't broken any specific rules. Next time, I would set an alarm clock before having sex. I hadn't known that having sex would put you to sleep like that afterwards. Ginny just carried her shoes, and I didn't bother to put on mine, "to save time." We both ran barefoot through the dew- covered grass back to her place, and then stood shyly looking at one another. "Well, uh, thanks," she said; drawing circles on the porch with her wet toe. "I had a great time." "So did I," I said . . . the understatement of the year. 57 Ginny held out her cheek to me for a chaste peck, but I would have nothing of it. I turned her head around with my finger, and then kissed her properly on the mouth. For a moment, Ginny just pecked with her lips, then suddenly we were in a wild embrace kissing hungrily as we stroked each other. I guess Ginny had known what she was doing; only offering me her cheek. It was all we could do to break apart, and not end up on the porch rutting like two dogs in heat, in front of the neighbors and everybody. Somehow, shuddering, we pulled apart. "We've GOT to do this again sometime," I said. "Uhuh," replied Ginny, "we do." This time, when she just pecked me on the cheek, I merely accepted it. There was a from the door, and Ginny was gone. It was awful lonely going back to my house. It was also cutting things a bit fine. I had barely gotten back home, and was looking across the yard when a light went out in the Morgans' house; leaving it black. Not five seconds later, a white streak of light became visible as a car turned the corner down the street, and then came closer to pull into the driveway next door. Tammy was home. I was still sweating THIS narrow escape, while settling back to sleep in my bed, when the noise of the front door opening announced my parents' return. Talk about narrow escapes! 58 Chapter 7 Interlude #3. Lonnie never did say anything more about my sleeping in like that, but the next day she DID tease me in front of our parents, by saying, "Well, I know YOU had a good time last night;" simultaneously reminding me of how she had caught the two of us, and of her "guarantee" at the same time. "That's THREE I owe you," I replied. "I know," Said Lonnie and giggled. Mom and Dad didn't say anything. I guess they were used to their children playing funny games. Besides, they had their own cryptic messages that they passed back and forth over OUR heads. It was only when I got back to my room after breakfast, that I found Ginny's panties in a soggy lump in the middle of the bed. Talk about obvious! I mean, white panties in the middle of a dark blue bedspread? If Mom or Dad had seen, there would have been no doubt in their minds what their son had been doing the night before, with the little girl next door. Ginny must have deliberately left them for me as a souvenir. I folded them up, and added them to my growing collection. I had never intended to start a collection of girls' panties, but it seemed that the girls wanted me to. Now I had one from each girl I had ever fucked. I didn't dare leave them all soggy with sweat. They would have gotten mildewed. So, I had to get up in the middle of the night and wash them by hand, when nobody was awake. It was a shame washing out the sexy smells, but better than losing them to mildew. Thankfully all three pairs dried fairly rapidly on my chair, so I was able to hide them in the morning. Saturday was too busy to do anything with anybody. I had three lawns to cut, to help me earn back some of the money I had been spending on dates. I had just gotten back from the last one, all smelly and dusty, when Mom told me a girl had called. It had been Betty-Lou, and she had waited as long as she could, but finally had gone out with someone else. She had been TRYING to get ahold of me all day long, it seems. Damn! Then, that night, my father dropped the bombshell. "I hear you've been fucking the little girl next door," he said at dinner time. I almost choked to death on a potato. "Your mother and I figured that it was probably way too late to stop you," he continued, "as you'd just find some way to sneak around and do it anyway, if we tried." My father looked at me sternly. "Now I want you BOTH to know, that we are NOT happy about this," he said, "but we also appreciate just how horny kids your ages get. I know I wouldn't have been able to pass up a cute little 'piece' like Suzy myself, if I'd had a chance at your age. So, we decided we're NOT going to try to stop you; just as long as you're careful," he concluded. I was almost angry that my father would even THINK I would hurt the little girl I loved so much, until I realized he meant we should be careful nobody else found out I was playing around with her. Some people get all uptight, when a 12-year-old (well . . . OK, almost 13) is found to be having sex with someone older. And what about a 10-going-on-11 year old girl? 59 The worst part of the whole deal, was that Dad didn't mention which girl he knew I had been screwing! And I didn't dare ask him, as that would tell him I had been fucking both of them Oh shit. I wondered if he knew, but again didn't dare ask. The next day, Suzy asked me if she could stay overnight. Talk about being in a quandary! Especially, after my father's remarks. I wanted to spend the night with the little girl so bad I could taste it; yet if Father got mad at me . . . . On the other hand, he hadn't said I HAD to stop screwing the little girl. I thought it over a little bit; still not knowing what to do; then I grabbed Suzy and we both went down and told my big sister what she wanted. Lonnie listened for a while; then grinned and told me she would take care of everything. Suzy went home, and I sat in my room; waiting and jittering. Either that night was going to be the best night ever, or the worst. If, (as I feared) my parents got mad at me for even suggesting such a thing, then it would be hell. On the other hand, if I hadn't mistaken what my father had implied, having a little girl spend the whole night with me, while my parents not only knew I was fucking the kid, but were LETTING me do it; if not exactly with their approval, then at least with their permission . . . wow! About an hour later, Mother poked her head into my room. "Your father says it's OK," she said; bringing a sigh of relief from me. "Only we both want you to know that if you hurt EITHER of those two little girls, or even make one of them jealous by trying to be the 'super-stud' and taking on both of them like this, we'll have your ears . . . understand?" "Uh, yes," I said; but I didn't really. BOTH of them? Did my mother mean to imply . . . ? Once again, my big sister had "set me up". I couldn't believe it. Somehow Lonnie had changed Suzy's request to spend the night with me, into getting me to have BOTH of the little girls next door sleep with me while Chrissie was spending the night with one of HER friends (only NOT male). Not only that, but it seemed that the little girls' parents not only knew they would be spending the night at our house, but that they would be spending it with ME, naked, and in the same bed together, instead of spending it with my sisters, like most normal visits had been previously. If you thought I was nervous before; then I was almost a quivering wreck by suppertime. I hadn't even thought about just how we were going to arrange things, so it was somewhat of a shock when I found both Ginny and her big sister sitting at the dinner table, just the way they usually would, if they had been coming over to visit my sister, or as they had when they were even younger, and either Lonnie or I had been "babysitting" them. Just like those earlier times, we sat and joked about school; we talked about movies; and yes, the girls talked about boys . . . or at least ONE boy anyway, me. My ears were burning, when Ginny and Suzy started talking to Lonnie about, "You should hear the way he grunts, when he's close." right in font of my parents, yet! Oh shit! I felt my face get so red, I thought it was going to burn up. 60 Finally, the three girls either got tired of teasing me; or maybe they decided to take pity on me. Whatever. In either case, after dinner, instead of finding myself cuddled up to two sexy little girls, I found myself alone in the living-room watching TV, while all three girls gathered in Lonnie's bedroom, and chatted together as if I wasn't there! I was just getting settled into a good grump; watching a show that I didn't like, but too pissed-off to change the channel, when I felt a body plump itself down on the couch next to me, and Ginny snuggled up next to me, like she was coming back from being away, rather than just arriving. At first, I was inclined to reject her, but my good sense and good humor decided otherwise. Good thing too. I reached out and pulled Ginny closer. Somehow, when my arm went around her, I ended up with my hand up underneath her short little blouse; cupping a firm little tittie. Ooh, did that feel good. Ginny just snuggled closer. Damn, it's nice to watch TV with a cute, sexy little girl snuggled up next to you; one who doesn't mind your advances. Ginny just snuggled closer each time my roving hand slid someplace that normally a boy shouldn't feel a little girl; like up under her bra, or down in her sexy little panties; feeling her firm young butt. I was barely aware of what was going on TV, or the fact that Ginny's hands were roaming over my body and underneath MY shirt, almost as freely as my hands were roaming over her. "My turn," said a sexy female voice, as Lonnie moved in to take the little girl's place. Ginny didn't object at being preempted by my big sister; just giving me a loving kiss on the lips, before heading back to join HER big sister, while Lonnie took over. I was almost in shock. Somehow I was NOT surprised to find Ginny trading off with her big sister . . . but with MY sister too? Oh shit. Lonnie didn't really give me much chance to think about it; snuggling up just as close to me as the little girl next door had. For a moment I was really worried. It was bad enough that I was "making out" with the two underaged little girls next door. If my parents found out I was fooling around with my own big sister too . . . I shuddered. Only for nothing. Except for a faint chatter coming from Lonnie's bedroom, and the rattle of the TV, the house was quiet. Mother and Father had retired to their bedroom; leaving the house to us kids. I guess they knew what was going to happen between me and the little girls next door, and didn't want to interfere. (Actually, I learned later that they were so turned-on by the idea of their own son actually having TWO little girls to fuck, that they needed some privacy of their own, while they fucked their brains out; imagining the orgy going on in my bedroom . . . only it wasn't an orgy.) For about half an hour, I made out with my big sister. After her sexy implications of how she would keep her promise if I "didn't have a good time" on Friday nights, I had been having quite a few daydreams about finding out just how good Lonnie really was to have as a date herself. Quite good, in fact. 61 Lonnie was a MUCH better kisser than either of the two little girls next door . . . almost as good as Betty-Lou, in fact. And she was DEFINITELY sexier. Her boobs were more developed, and she had a wriggle that almost made me cum, without even having my prick touched. Her ass was rounded in a way that promised heaven to whoever managed to trap this gorgeous creature into having his babies. (Damn! A boy just isn't SUPPOSED to think of his own sister this way!) I was rescued by Suzy, before I got carried away and pulled down my own big sister's panties and fucked her right there in the living-room, where our parents might have walked through at any moment. Somehow I knew that Lonnie wasn't in any better shape than I was at resisting the temptation to fuck her own sibling. Luckily we were interrupted by Suzy wanting "her turn". Or WAS it luck? Perhaps not. Later I figured that Lonnie just wanted to "try me out" but wasn't ready to fuck her own brother yet; so she had Ginny and Suzy help her, without leaving me hanging when she did so. "It's MY turn," said Suzy. "After all, he's MY boyfriend." I wondered at this, but didn't deny it. After all, it was the truth. It was fun dating other girls like Betty-Lou and even her little sister Ginny, but Suzy was definitely the one who suited me best; for all her being so much younger than me. Actually, I found I LIKED the idea of Suzy claiming me as her boyfriend. Maybe Mother was right; and I was missing a bet. For sure, how many OTHER girls were as easygoing as her, when it came to her boyfriend playing around with other girls? (Like her little sister, and my BIG sister . . . not to mention Betty-Lou and the others.) Suzy showed me I was wrong about her kissing. She had improved so much in the last week, she was practically as good as my big sister was, and I knew that with a little more practice, she would be even better. What more could a horny boy ask? Well, I suppose, for some real sex, of course. But that was "cumming". After about another 20 or 30 minutes, my sister returned with Ginny in tow, and announced, "I don't know about YOU three, but I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late." With that, she headed back to her own bedroom, and very pointedly shut the door. Damn. I had almost hoped my big sister was going to join us in my bedroom. (Years later, Lonnie told me it took every ounce of willpower she had to keep from making it a "menage-a-quatro" with the three of us. If I only had the brilliance to ASK her to stay, then she would have. Oh, for lost chances.) In the meantime, Ginny snuggled in on the other side of me from her big sister, and soon all thoughts of my big sister were driven out of my mind by two pairs of sexy hands roaming over my body, while two delectably female bodies were freely available to MY roaming hands. It's a wonder I didn't waste my sperm all over the couch, instead of up inside the bellies of the two little girls who didn't seem to mind the idea of me squirting either or both of their tight little slits full of baby-making cum. 62 "We'd better get this 'thing' into the bedroom, before he wastes it all over the carpet," giggled Suzy; putting my thoughts into words. We were about to leave a trail of discarded clothing, on the way to my bedroom, but at least Ginny had a lick of sense: Telling us to pick the stuff up, and put it in the laundry- hamper, or everyone would know what we were doing, and where. (As if either my parents or hers didn't know exactly what their kids were doing together that night.) Five minutes later I found myself in bed with two very sexy, very horny, and VERY naked little girls. I blew my cum all over Ginny's sexy little leg. SHIT! I had WANTED to blow it up inside at least ONE of the two little girls' tight little slits. Now I had really "blown it." I would probably never have a chance like this again. Both girls giggled; embarrassing me still further. "It's OK," said Suzy; snuggling her sexy little naked body up to me, so my cum dribbling prick was nestled into the crease that led to her sex. "We can wait. I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from." She was right. It took over half an hour, but having two sexy naked little girls snuggled up spoon-fashion on either side of me finally got my prick erect enough that Ginny was able to reach between my legs, and stick it up inside her big sister, without any one of the three of us having to move more than an inch or so in any direction. Oh GOD, did that feel good! The tight squeeze of Suzy's little slit milking on my prick was almost enough to make me come again, before I had hardly even started fucking her. What a DUMB way to "show off" for the two little girls I was starting to love almost more than life itself. Especially, when Ginny was watching me so closely, to see that I did a "good job" on her big sister, before filling HER womb with my sticky sperm. By gritting my teeth, I DID manage to hold on until Suzy's tight little hole started clamping and squeezing on my prick, but not a second longer. Feeling the little girl lying beside me, while her tight little cunny rippled up and down my swollen prick, and her little sister watched me breeding her, was too much. Wave after wave of hot greasy sperm rippled through my prick, before being spat into the welcoming belly of the 12-year-old. God that felt so good to let that rusty load of pregnancy-juice go . . . right where it belonged too; into the welcoming young belly of a little girl who seemed to be as happy about feeling me ejaculate my seed inside her, as I was to feel it going. The only one who was disappointed was Ginny. Watching me breeding her big sister had gotten the little girl all "hot and bothered"; and she was expecting to get her turn. Only I couldn't. After wasting one big load all over her sexy little leg, then spewing what seemed like a gallon of sperm in her big sister's tight little slit, I was done for the night. I did my best though; feeling her up, then licking her cute little twat until she got at least a little relief. Towards the end, Suzy came over and helped me by sucking on her little sister's titties, while I reamed out her sucking little snatch with my tongue. It wasn't much; but it was something. 63 Afterwards, we all collapsed in exhaustion; snuggling up to sleep together in my bed. THAT was probably the most erotic thing of all, that happened that night. Only my poor prick had given out on me. Too much sensual overload, from having THREE girls tease me all night, then getting my rocks off twice, in less than half an hour. Several years later, Suzy's mother pulled out an old record at one of her parties and played it; now that she wasn't worried about "corrupting" one of her little girls. Some gal named "Rusty Warren" told all kinds of dirty jokes on it . . . . The one I remember most, was where one guy had two girls with him. She told the crowd that it, "Costs you twice as much, and you're lucky to have half the fun." That's the way it was here. I had more sex, the times I had either girl alone, than when both of them together spent the night with me. Not that I was disappointed; far from it. It's SO sexy, erotic, and downright FRIENDLY to go to bed with two little girls who aren't jealous of each other; being willing to "share" you with the other as much as needed. I wanted to spend the rest of my life like that. Towards morning, I woke up with a piss-hard, and when I came back to bed, both little girls worked me up until I could fuck Ginny properly. A half hour after that, I managed to fuck her big sister again. Then, I collapsed in exhaustion; and slept for another two hours. This was the first time I really managed to notice the differences between fucking the two girls. Suzy was wet, loving, and soft and slippery; enjoying a nice leisurely screw, until the slow stimulation got to much, and I squirted her warm friendly hole full of thick white baby-juice. Ginny, on the other hand, was tight, energetic, and nasty; mouthing obscene comments in my ear, while she milked my swollen prick with her tight little cunny until I was jabbing furiously in her; pumping great gobs of hot seed in her gyrating belly. I can't really say one was BETTER than the other; only different. Very sexily different. I didn't know how I was ever going to give up either of them. Still, I wasn't about to marry either one right yet, either. Besides, I still had two more girls that Lonnie was going to set me up with. They deserved their chances too. (What a change from three weeks earlier, where I was wondering if I was ever even going to get a DATE, let alone get laid. Now, I was "giving different girls a chance at me.") I almost felt like some stuck-up snob. On the other hand, I wasn't just going to jump in and marry the first girl who let me in her panties either! (Well, maybe I would . . . Suzy was one HELL of a fine catch, as I was finally coming to realize . . . 12-years- old or no. So far the other girls were damned good; but Suzy was still better than any of them . . . except possibly for her little sister. But 10-years-old? Naw, I couldn't do that to a little girl like Ginny. She deserved somebody more her own age.) 64 The next morning both my parents poked their heads in; telling us, "You kids get ready for breakfast." There was absolutely no doubt about what the three of us had been doing though, as both little girls were dribbling thick white drops of my thick white cum from each of their tight little slits. I had just finished fucking each of them for the third time that night; (Or was it now morning?) this time doing a fairly good job of getting each of the little girls off, before filling her womb with thick white jets of hot sticky cum. For a bit, it almost looked as though I might be fucking my big sister too, as she had come by earlier to "help out" by talking dirty, while I was fucking the two younger girls. At first it was embarrassing to fuck either girl, with my big sister watching; but then her nasty comments about little girls who liked to fuck, and nasty boys who like to squirt sperm in 10-year-old little girls got to be too exciting, so I did it. I fucked both little kids, while Lonnie watched; ejaculating my sperm in each of them under my big sister's interested gaze. All three of us were about to haul my big sister into bed with us, and I was about to show her just what little brothers are good for, when she dodged around our reaching hands, and headed down the hall to the bathroom to "take a pee," she said. Damned lucky she did; though I didn't feel that way at the time. Our parents called us to breakfast about 3 minutes later, and if they'd been one minute earlier, it would have looked to them like I was fucking all THREE girls. Dad might somehow put up with me fucking the little 12-year-old girl next door; even possibly understand me porking her 10-year-old little sister. No way would he ever understand me slipping my prick into my own sister though . . . or at least, so I thought then. After that incredible night, things slipped back to normal after breakfast. The two girls went back home; and I went back to mostly "pulling my pud" when I got horny. Still, Suzy did manage to suck me off twice during the week, and one of the two times we actually managed a quick fuck in my bedroom on Thursday, while everybody else was outside. 65 Chapter 8 Date #4. That Friday, Lonnie just gave me an address. It was three blocks away. I knocked on the door, and waited; then knocked again. I was about to knock a third time, when the door opened, and I almost knocked on the forehead of a little girl who couldn't have been much older than eight. She was dressed in an almost skin- tight outfit that screamed SEX! A tight little tube-top, and short little micro-mini looked completely out of place on an 8- year-old. The hard flat eyes measuring me didn't do much to make me feel easier. "Oh shit!" I thought. "Lonnie set me up with THIS?" I mean, Suzy was way too young, and if she was young, then what about her little sister? This, however, was getting ridiculous! What kind of pedophile-monster did my big sister think I was, anyway? Still, I HAD promised Lonnie I would try. Only if I tried, was I eligible to collect on her "guarantee." I almost chickened out anyway. Horny I might be; I was NOT a child-molester. In any case, I was going to give my big sister an earful when I got home. "Well?" prompted the girl, in an almost sneering tone. If this was my date, then it didn't augur well for my having a good time. "Uh," I said, hesitantly, "I . . . we had a date tonight?" The little girl looked at me like I was some kind of slime that you found under the refrigerator. Then her face cleared. "Oh. Sorry," she said. Then, with a void that seemed far too old and loud for such a little girl, shouted, "CAROL! It's your DATE!" then slammed the door in my face. What a . . . kid. I didn't DARE put my full thoughts into words. Carol, huh? I wondered . . . . I was right. It WAS Carol Whittingham. Yes, the same Carol who I had asked three times for a date at school, and who had teased me about going out with Suzy on my first date. The same Carol Whittingham who had stuck a dig in at me on my second date, until Betty-Lou had straightened her out. For the second time that night, I almost called off the date before it ever started, once I saw who it was going to be with. Only I HAD promised Lonnie I would try. Besides, Carol HAD pointed out that she had been unable to see me on those past Fridays because she had been working. On the other hand, why hadn't she offered me another night, like Saturday, or something? I decided to wait and see. If the night was a bust, then it was a bust. Then I would take my big sister up on her guarantee, and see how nice SHE could make my night. Still, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet. Carol started out by apologizing for her little sister. "Sorry Mark," she said, "but Michelle was expecting someone OLDER, for her date. The little slut says that older men treat her better. Can you believe it? Well, neither can anybody else in the family, but we know better than to try and stop her. Don't tell anybody this, but I think the little shit is actually fucking some of the men she goes out with. Her manners leave a lot to be desired, too." 66 I couldn't say a word. In the first place, I had already fucked a little girl not much older than her little sister, (Michelle, it turned out was 9, and dressed to look even younger, but like a slut.) so I couldn't put either her little sister, OR the man fucking her down. It was also too much like the scenario that I thought Lonnie had set me up for. "It's OK," I mumbled. "I won't tell." "Well, it's NOT OK," replied Carol; surprising me. "You're too nice a guy to have to put up with her shit. Too nice to put up with MY shit too, for that matter." "Huh?" Once again, I showed my brilliance . . . NOT. "I treated you like a jerk," she explained. "All those times you asked me out, and I begged off. SURE I work on Fridays . . . it's a convenient way to shake off the weirdoes and nerds." Carol raised her hand, when I started to object. "Yes, nerds," she said. "That's what all the girls called you. I didn't really think you looked all that bad. In fact, you're quite handsome. So why did I turn you down?" I shrugged. I figured Carol would let me know, if she wanted me to. "It's because I'm a worse jerk than you were supposed to be," she explained. "I was afraid that the other girls would make fun of me for going out with a guy who's a bookworm, and who wears glasses. THEN when you came in with those other girls, and THEY all seemed to have a good time with you, like I could have been doing, I'm afraid I got jealous. So I got catty. Luckily, Betty-Lou set me straight, and told me how to fix things. So I talked to your sister, and she set me up for this date. I won't blame you, if you decide you don't want to go out with me, now that you know it's me. Your sister told me to tell me that if you decide to leave, once you know the truth, then she'll still keep her end of the deal . . . whatever that means. At least, I got a chance to apologize." I stared at her stunned. Carol thought I was handsome? My big sister would stand by HER side of the "guarantee" if I decided to call the date off early? Carol really LIKED me, especially enough to apologize to me like that? A girl as nice as her, HAVING to apologize? For almost 15 seconds I stood there like a dummy; saying nothing. "I see," said Carol finally. "I'll go back home, and you can go out with one of the nice girls you already know . . . ." "Sorry for taking up your time." With this, she turned back to the door, and started to open it. I felt like the heel that Carol must have felt like for stepping on ME. "Wait!" I said; stopping her just in time. "I'm sorry; I just didn't know that a nice girl like you would care enough about someone like me to say that. I like you. I think you're one of the prettiest girls in the class. That's one of the reasons I kept trying to get you to go out with me. You're pretty, and sexy, and intelligent, and you seem to like the same sort of things I do, and you get along well with people. That's why I kept having hopes that you might go out with me. You never turned me down flatly, like some of the girls did. You always let me down easy; and never called me a nerd. Can we start over?" 67 Carol actually blushed. I had heard about this sort of thing, but it was the first time I had actually seen it happen to anybody. Her neck turned pink, then the redness ran up into her cheeks, and she kind of ducked her head and generally looked embarrassed. "I suppose," she said, "but I'm not sexy." I looked at her with astonishment. Even in the demure plain white blouse and knee-length skirt, it was obvious that Carol had curves where Suzy or even Betty-Lou didn't have curves. She wasn't the wet-dream come alive that Marsha Swiggins was, but she definitely WAS sexy. I told her so; asking her if she ever looked in the mirror. Carol blushed even brighter, if possible. This time, the red went up her cheeks and all the way into her hairline. "I'm NOT sexy," she said. "Not really. Michelle is sexy. Betty-Lou is sexy. Even your girlfriend Suzy, is sexy. I'm not. I can't be; or at least, I don't dare be sexy. If I was as sexy as my little sister is, I'd probably be pregnant before two months were up. I'm sorry, but I don't dare." I pointed out to her, that being sexy did NOT have to mean that you had sex, like it was so obvious that her little sister did. Being sexy was in how you looked; and more importantly, acted. Being sexy did NOT mean that you had to have sex. Carol agreed, but, "I STILL can't be sexy. I don't DARE to be. If I did, especially around a nice guy like you, then it would just be teasing you. I couldn't do that to you. It wouldn't be fair. Do you still want to go out with me?" I pointed out to Carol that a guy didn't have to have sex with a girl, to have fun. MANY times I had sat alone on previous weekend nights, just dreaming about having the chance to be out with a girl on a date; talking to her and enjoying her company, without expecting to get in her pants. We could still have a good time together, even if we never did do anything sexually. And that's what happened. Carol and I went to the movies together. It wasn't hard to find a new movie that we both hadn't seen, that appealed to both of us; unlike some girls. Carol insisted on paying her own way into the movie; over my objections. She said it wasn't fair to me to have to pay, when I wasn't "getting anything" out of it. When I pointed out that I was having a good time, she replied that she was too. She DID let me buy her a snack at the restaurant afterwards, though. All through the movie I was more aware of the living breathing girl sitting next to me, sometimes with her hand in mine, while the hijinks on the screen kept us both in stitches. Carol even seemed to get all the "inside" jokes that I thought only horny boys knew. I found myself with an arm around her shoulders, as we shook together in laughter. A comedy had been a VERY good choice for a movie. Only once during the movie did I find that my hand had somehow ended up on Carol's bare leg, but she just firmly reached down and moved it to a more innocent spot, without being obnoxious or even pointed about it. I wasn't even annoyed. In fact, it was quite pleasant to go out on a date without worrying about whether I could "perform" up to the girl's expectations. 68 Somehow in our chatter during the movie and afterwards in the restaurant, I came to the conclusion that Carol DID know just how well I had been doing with Suzy and Betty-Lou. Not only that, but I think she knew about Ginny too. It was in the restaurant (yes, the same one) that I also found out how Carol had gotten off that night . . . she had gotten Betty-Lou Harris to stand in for her! It seems the two girls did this all the time, when Carol wanted to go out on Fridays. Then, other nights, she would return the favor for Betty-Lou. At the restaurant, Carol left to go to the restroom for a few minutes. When she returned, she slipped something soft, white, and slightly damp in my pocket. "I decided that NEXT time, I WAS going to be sexy . . . for you," she said. These are a promise . . . if you can promise to wait that long. I am STILL not the type of girl who fucks on the first date." I didn't have to pull them out to know that the soft white cloth was Carol's plain white cotton panties. I almost wanted to sing all the way back to her house, and I was whistling all the way home; in spite of the fact that while Carol DID kiss me at the door, and even properly on the lips, the kiss was almost as chaste as holding hands, compared with those I had shared with Betty-Lou or Suzy . . . or even Ginny, for that matter. Still, I was NOT unhappy. Maybe I hadn't gotten laid, but four weeks earlier I would almost have killed to have a date even half this good. For the third time, I ended up at home, with a girl's panties stuffed into my pant's pocket. I was getting to be quite a collector of sexy girls' panties (and it was completely unintentional . . . at least, on my part it was). Now I had FOUR panties in my secret stash. "Now, I owe you FOUR," I told Lonnie. My big sister just smiled, as if she knew something I didn't . . . . Well, she did. I just hoped I could afford whatever she wanted, because it would be hard refusing my big sister anything, after this. You'll find this hard to believe, but the following week i got laid precisely once each day; starting with a quick fuck from Ginny on Saturday afternoon, and followed by an equally quick liaison with Betty-Lou on Sunday. The rest of the week, Ginny and Suzy traded-off each night, with a quick fuck after supper, before one or the other of us had to be off to some previous engagement, or do homework or something like that. Not one was a real date, and only on Wednesday did I even manage a quick 69 with Ginny to get HER off. Not that any of the girls didn't get off when I did, it's only that one day that we had even a LITTLE time for something extra. It all seemed so "arranged" somehow; as if all three girls were making sure I didn't suffer from "lack of sex" until my next date. Well, perhaps it was. I only jacked-off twice during the week. 69 Chapter 9 Date #5. On the last Friday of the five that Lonnie had promised to "set me up" on a date, I ended up in front of a driveway where I felt completely out of place. I mean, houses like THIS one, you didn't see except in movies. Certainly boys like me didn't date girls who lived in four-story houses, with long drive-through driveways, with gates at each end, and almost 10 acres of manicured and landscaped lawn around the house. I felt like some kind of impostor. Heck, I didn't even KNOW any girls whose family was rich enough to live in a place like this on. Heck, it probably cost two or three million easily. Through the trees I could even see a private dock and boathouse. I almost chickened out and went home. Only my promise to Lonnie to at least TRY with WHOEVER she set me up with, stopped me . . . . Besides, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet. When I ran the doorbell, and a BUTLER answered, I KNEW I had the wrong house. I mean, NOBODY affords butlers these days. Certainly not anybody I knew, or who would be willing to go out with a peon in an old Chevy, like my father had loaned me. "Uh," I started to stammer an apology to the butler, and sneak out. "You must be Master Mark, that Miss Marsha was talking about," said the butler in an almost unbelievable British accent. (I learned later that it WAS a fake; put on just like part of his uniform. Danforth, [Dan, in private] was paid to ACT like a butler, so he did.) "Please follow me. Miss Marsha will be down shortly." "Down?" "Miss Marsha" I didn't know anyone named "Marsha" except . . . no, it couldn't be. The "down" part, became obvious as the butler led me past an enormous grand staircase, like you only see in movies. Oh shit! What had Lonnie gotten me into THIS time? First making out with under-aged little girls, and then the sexiest slut in three major cities. (No; I was NOT running Betty-Lou Harris down. She WAS the sexiest slut in two states, and proud of it.) Now, it looked like my big sister had set me up with (of all people) the "Ice Queen." The sexiest girl in the sophomore class, who had the reputation of teasing everybody, but putting out for no-one. A died-in-the wool, cock- teasing bitch. Marsha wore sexy outfits to school, that while perfectly legal, showed more of the curvy body underneath, than should be allowed on any planet occupied by horny boys like me. I knew I wasn't the only boy in my class, or two classes ahead of and behind her, that had jacked-off more than once thinking about what Marsha Swiggins had up under those short little dresses of hers, or how her sweet red lips would feel wrapped around my swollen cock. Well, at least ONE mystery was solved. I now knew how Marsha always looked like she had just came from a beauty- parlor . . . she probably had. From the look of this mansion, it could easily hold 20 or 30 servants, and a hairdresser would fit in quite nicely. For sure, even if she didn't have a personal one, daily trips to the salon would be pocket-change to her family. No wonder she could afford to look down on peons like me. 70 I wondered just how Lonnie was going to explain THIS, when Marsha gave me the cold-shoulder, when she learned I was just the Mark who was in the class behind her; not even a sophomore yet, and certainly not in HER league. Well, I only hoped she would be nice about it . . . . Though with Marsha Swiggins' reputation of being the "Ice Queen" I doubted it. Then I thought it over. Marsha REALLY only had the reputation of being a "nice girl" who liked to dress sexy (thus getting the reputation of a tease). Just because she didn't "put out" didn't mean I couldn't have a nice time. Heck, look what had happened the other week, with Carol. I decided to give Marsha a chance . . . even if she WAS rich. (And a damned good thing I did, too.) I EXPECTED Marsha to come "sweeping" down the staircase, in some long fancy gown, and give me the cold-eye, when she saw I wasn't dressed to kill, like she would be. Heck, the suit the butler was wearing, I knew cost more than my entire wardrobe, and HE was just a servant! Well, my date came down that long staircase all right, but not "sweeping" in a long robe. You won't believe this, but Marsha came SLIDING down the banister; wearing a micro-mini that blew up when she did, so I could actually not only see her panties underneath the short skirt, but could see right up to her bare bellybutton above it! "Wheeeeee!" She said; barely jumping off in time to avoid running into the post at the bottom, and stumbling a bit so she ended up right in my arms. I found myself with an armful of cute, wriggling, barely- dressed, and VERY sexy girl! And instead of pulling away, and giving me the "cold eye" like I had expected, Marsha actually SNUGGLED into my embrace, as if we were old friends, and just pulled her dress down enough to be barely "decent," while asking, "Hi Mark. Isn't it FUN to slide down a banister? Daddy had them build THIS one, just for me, when I was a little girl. He knew I liked it then, and I still do." Danforth commented gravely, "It's not very refined, to slide down the banister, Miss Marsha. Your mother would have a fit, if she knew you were doing it in front of guests." "Oh piddle!" said Marsha. "Mark here is my friend, and my date, who's taking me out tonight. I don't have to be refined with HIM, now do I?" Here, the girl gave me such a sweet smile that I couldn't have denied ANYTHING she said. "No," I choked, "you don't." Even the SMELL of the girl was fit to dive you wild. She smelled so fresh, so clean, and yes, so SEXY. Not to mention her looks, with smooth mouthwatering mounds on her chest; big enough to look sexy, but without being so big as to look overbearing. Her rounded hips, and long bare legs below the micro-mini . . . . "DOWN boy," I told myself, "or you'll be getting your face slapped, like so many other boys did." I could see how, with her sexy look and actions, how so many boys in the past might have been tempted to make passes at this gorgeous creature. Especially, as with all her wealth, she didn't seem to have a pretentious bone in her body. 71 No wonder the boys called her the "Ice Queen." With all that sexiness, then it was no wonder some of the guys made passes at her. Ones she probably didn't want. So, she got the reputation for teasing, but not putting out. At least, nobody that I had ever heard of, had ever bragged about getting in Marsha Swiggins' cute little panties. So, it was assumed she liked to leave boys with blue balls. Which just goes to show what assuming things does for you. (Yes, I'm sure you've heard the "ASS-U-ME" joke.) Before I realized it, we were chattering gaily together like old friends, and somehow I found myself opening my father's car door for her like a princess. Marsha climbed in, like the jalopy was a royal carriage. With HER inside, it almost was. So, we headed for the drive-in, just like my first date. Only I didn't expect to have the same luck with Marsha, that I had with Suzy. I mean, I figured Marsha had to have gotten her reputation of "Ice Queen," somewhere. It helps to make plans. One reason I liked to use my father's car for taking a girl to the drive-in, was that it's one of those FEW convertibles left on the road. When I had taken Suzy, the night had been colder, and besides, I hadn't wanted to embarrass either her or me, by calling attention to the fact that I (a high-schooler) was taking out a kid. (OK! Suzy is NOT a kid!) Tonight was warm and humid, so I fought the top down, before I picked Marsha up. It is NOT impressive to manually take down or put up a convertible-top, when you're on a date. I wondered why the line was so short at the entrance, which boasted, "FIVE nights a week, rain or shine!" Uhuh. You guessed it. I hadn't checked the weather-forecast, like so many people obviously had (those who stayed away that night). We had hardly been there more than 20 minutes, and the trailers and cartoon had just finished, when a big drop hit me on the nose. Damn. Well, that's the reason for convertibles, right? You guessed it again. The damned thing stuck. By the time Marsha and I had struggled together to get the top up, we were both a mess. She had slipped in the mud; getting gray goo up her knee, and I had fallen down trying to help her, so I was a MESS, with gray slop coating the front of both pants and shirt. THEN, the wind started to pick up. With both of us hanging on, we managed to fight the now unstuck top down to where it would fasten. But by then, neither of us were in a mood to watch the rest of the show. Thank goodness we had at least seen the cartoon. Now you MIGHT think that being soaked to the skin, losing a heel from her shoe, and having mud-streaks down her leg, (not to mention being chilled by the wind blowing through our wet clothing) would make Marsha so pissed-off at me, that she would never speak to me again. Only you would be wrong. For all her reputation as the "Ice Queen", Marsha was VERY friendly. In fact, seeing me fighting to get the top down, then working WITH me to get it down while fighting the wind to keep it from being ripped (and incidentally, me from my father's wrath if I HAD gotten it ripped . . . canvas tops are EXPENSIVE) had somehow worked us into a camaraderie that would probably have been difficult to accomplish just by watching some stupid movie. 72 I took her back to her house; apologizing all the way. Only Marsha wouldn't let me. You see, she HAD watched the news, and even the weather report, and hadn't thought anything about it until we got drenched. First thing I knew, Marsha was apologizing to ME. When we both stopped to listen to each other, this led to a good laugh on both our parts. Then, Marsha started apologizing to me AGAIN. It took me a while to figure out what for. It seems that she and Betty-Lou were VERY good friends. If a guy was nice to Betty-Lou, then, and ONLY then, would Marsha go out with him. This meant that Betty-Lou got lots more dates than she otherwise would, and Marsha got guys who were nice enough to treat a rather plain girl nicely. Only nice guys need apply. THAT is why she had previously turned me down, and acted so frosty to me . . . she had figured I was just another guy trying to get in her pants. Being rich, intelligent, AND beautiful had its drawbacks, it seems. Too many guys were out either for her money or her body. So she and Betty-Lou had worked out a system between them. Betty-Lou didn't mind being fucked, just to get fucked. She LIKED to have nice guys take her out, but she liked just plain nasty sex too. So, all the guys who tried to date Marsha got subtly (or sometimes NOT so subtly) steered to Betty Lou. If they treated the class slut nicely, then Marsha would give them a chance to treat HER nicely. A few (very few) didn't make the second cut. Thus, the reputation of the "Ice Queen" who went out on dates, but never put out. Marsha DID put out, it seems, but only to those who wouldn't tell. In other words, NICE guys. And it seems that I was in the lucky position of having gotten the best recommendation from THREE girls, that Marsha had ever gotten. Uhuh, Betty, Carol, AND my big sister Lonnie. So, Marsha had been planning on going with me to the drive in, (yes, the traditional "make-out" place) to seduce ME. Only neither of us had paid any attention to the weather-report. Shit. Well, THIS louse-up I couldn't take out on my big sister. After all, I had promised to give my date a GOOD time, not a wet squishy broken-heeled mess of a washout. Even though Marsha didn't seem to be mad at me, it sure wasn't HER fault either, that I didn't "have a good time." Only I was being too hasty. When we got back to her "mansion" (as I was tempted to call it) Marsha invited me IN, instead of waving good-bye, and sending me home. To say I was astonished would be putting it mildly; flabbergasted would be the more correct word. The butler was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Marsha's parents. It seems that servants don't work all night, and Marsha's parents had taken the opportunity of their daughter being on a date, to have a little "private-time" out themselves. Marsha and I were all alone in that big house. 73 Marsha led me in though a side door. It seems she didn't want to annoy the maid, by making a mess of the main entrance . . . good maids, it seems, are as hard to find as good butlers. Once inside, she immediately started to strip out of her clothes, as casually as if she got undressed in front of ALL of her dates like that. If I was astounded at her letting me come inside, what can I say about THIS? "Well, hurry up," she prompted me; pointing to the waiting washing-machine where she was tossing her clothes. "If we hurry, the clothes will be dry by the time you have to go home." Marsha stood there, naked as a jaybird, with both hands on her hips, as if I was retarded to not see the obvious. Well, retarded I'm not; easily embarrassed, I am. Still, if you thought I would "chicken out" of getting undressed in front of the sexiest girl in high-school, when she had already shown HER nerve by doing it first, then you don't understand how "macho" image works. No way could I let a girl show me up. Besides, she was being too damned friendly about it, as if being naked in front of boys like me happened every day with her. How could I act any less confident? Still . . . . "You're sure about this?" I asked, as I peeled off a soggy sock, before starting on my trousers. Marsha looked at me with astonishment for a minute, then suddenly giggled. "Oh," she said with amusement, "I guess it DOES look like I was inviting you to . . . ." Here she burst into a REAL set of giggles. I paused; looking through the neck of my shirt I had half- off, and looked at her in dismay. Had I been assuming too much? "I'm sorry," she said; giggling, "I should have THOUGHT how it looked to you. I was just trying to get our clothes dried out. I wasn't trying to seduce you." Shit. Still, she DID sound honest. "Though," she said; suddenly taking the sting out of it, "we might get around to that later." HOPE! I was NOT going to force things by asking HOW much later. Maybe I should have pushed things, considering what happened. Ten minutes later, Marsha and I were sitting in the kitchen; listening to the washer making gurgling noises from the laundry- room, while we both sipped steaming cups of hot chocolate. We were both wrapped in ENORMOUS towels, but nothing else. I must say, the towel looked a LOT better on Marsha than it did on me. She had it wrapped around her like a sarong, and she wore it like a queen. I couldn't help but let my eyes follow her everywhere she went. And to my delight, Marsha didn't seem to mind. She had only gotten the towels to wear, because she thought we might be "more comfortable" drinking chocolate in them, while the clothes washed. To my joy, she hadn't retired to another room to get dressed; simply wrapping her nude body with the towel right in front of me; as if she didn't mind my seeing her nude or not-nude. 74 With the hard-on I was soon sporting, it's for certain I felt more comfortable with something to hide it. Only I think Marsha knew what I was hiding under the towel; as her smiles over the steaming cup in her hand couldn't have been all for my wit. I was too busy looking at her, and talking about various things like the books I read (obviously she HAD been talking to Betty- Lou) why I still drove my father's car, instead of one of my own, and even about the dates my big sister had set me up on. (No, I did NOT tell her I had been having sex with them; and she didn't pry either. I guess she knew if I was going to keep my liaisons with HER to myself, she couldn't expect me to blab about others. Only she seemed to know an awful lot anyway.) Just about the time we finished the chocolate, the washer also finished with a thump. Marsha grabbed our clothes out of the washing machine, and threw them in the dryer, THEN she grabbed the towel from me and her, and threw them both in the now-empty washing machine, and started it up again. I watched in astonishment as, naked as the day she was born, Marsha Swiggins, the "Ice-Queen", the most beautiful girl in the sophomore class, walked towards the main part of the house. "Well?" she prompted me; looking over her shoulder, "aren't you coming?" For the next 20 minutes, Marsha led me on a tour of the house. From the basement, with the furnace and hot-tub, to the cupola above the attic, with the weather-station just outside the window. Somehow, (and somehow I was not surprised) we ended up in HER bedroom, where she walked into her own private bath, and started taking a shower! To my astonishment (again) she held open the shower-door, and invited me in with a gesture. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /