Message-ID: <46619asstr$1076659803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: news.giganews.com.POSTED!not-for-mail NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 12 Feb 2004 20:01:58 -0600 From: Nick Scipio X-Original-Message-ID: <8ubo20drp3dhk6seopsd6nnurt512j476s@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-DMCA-Notifications: http://www.giganews.com/info/dmca.html X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly X-Postfilter: 1.1 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 12 Feb 2004 21:01:58 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} [RV] "Summer Camp - Book 2" by Nick Scipio - Ch 31 (mf, mff, mF, MF, teen, oral) Lines: 2027 Date: Fri, 13 Feb 2004 03:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, hoisingr Author: Nick Scipio Title: Summer Camp - Book 2: Gina Part: Chapter 31 Universe: Summer Camp Summary: Coming-of-age story about a teenager whose family spends their summer vacations at a nudist camp. Keywords: mf, mff, mF, MF, teen, oral Revision: 1.5 Web Site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/www/ FTP Site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/SummerCamp2 Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/ ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio (nick_scipio@yahoo.com). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** Summer Camp - Book 2: Gina by Nick Scipio CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE The next day, I woke up and simply stared at the ceiling. Kendall was gone. Gina was gone. And while I definitely looked forward to spending some time with Susan, I was a little depressed. I thought saying goodbye to Kendall would've been easier than it was with Gina, but I was wrong. Way wrong. In the week that we'd spent together, Kendall and I had grown unbelievably close. With her gone, it was like a piece of me was missing. In a way, I dreaded going home. I'd have to face Amy and tell her that we couldn't be together. I'd miss Susan as well. But I was also looking forward to going home. I'd get to see Gina, and she'd hopefully get to spend some time with me at our house. But in addition, I was looking forward to the routine of school and home life. I know it sounds strange, but I think I might've had enough fun for one summer. I think I could have lain there and ruminated all day, but a noise from below disturbed my thoughts. Mom and Dad were getting up. One of them went to the bathroom and I heard the other moving quietly about the cabin. I wondered what they were doing up so early, but then I remembered that Dad had to leave for another series of trips. I decided to roll out of my bunk and do my workout anyway, in spite of my semi-somber mood. When I climbed down the ladder, Mom smiled at me. Once Dad finished in the bathroom, I used it myself and then grabbed my workout shorts. As I walked outside, my parents both headed back into the bathroom to shower together. ----- Later that day, Susan, Erin, and I ate lunch together. Mom wouldn't be back from Columbia until mid-afternoon, so she'd asked Susan to make sure Erin and I had lunch. She knew we could take care of ourselves, but I think it made her feel better to know that Susan was watching out for us. In the afternoon, Susan came down to the lake to lay out with us for a while. When she got up to head back to her house, she gestured for me to join her. Once we were at her house, she handed me an overstuffed manila envelope. "Stacy wanted to keep them," she said, "but..." I opened the envelope and extracted a stack of Polaroids. They were the ones Stacy and I had taken, the year before. "She didn't think she should have them around," Susan continued. "Especially now that Jason... well... you know." I nodded and then looked through some of the pictures. "And she wanted to give them to you herself, but... well... I guess things were a little hectic toward the end of the move." "Yeah." In the pictures, Stacy was thinner, almost waiflike. And her pubic hair had been shaved at the time. Where she was almost painfully skinny, I was pudgy and soft. For a moment, I wondered what she'd ever seen in me. Then I looked at a picture of me and I knew. I was leaning against the doorframe, smiling warmly, and even _I_ felt like I'd like to know the guy in the picture. "You've changed a lot since then," Susan said quietly. "No kidding." "And not just on the outside, either." "Thanks." "Do you know what you want to do with them?" "Not really," I said. We talked about it briefly, then ultimately decided that I probably shouldn't keep them. When I asked if I should just throw them away, she suggested I burn them instead. Before we put them to the match, however, we _did_ use them for a bit of inspiration. Susan wasn't as limber as Stacy, but her enthusiasm and experience _more_ than made up for the difference. ----- I'd been trying to think of a good going away present for Susan, and when I came up with one, I asked for Mom's help. The next time she went to town for groceries, I rode with her. I told her that I wanted to get Susan something living, something that would last, and Mom made a few suggestions. Once we got to the hardware store, Mike McMasters showed us to the garden section, considered our request, and helped us make a selection. He was actually quite knowledgeable about flowers and plants in general, and he suggested bougainvillea, mandevilla, or jasmine. Mom quietly told me that Susan liked the scent of jasmine, so I bought two of them, along with some decorative weatherproof containers. Susan's eyes grew misty when I invited her outside to show her my gift. I couldn't really gift wrap them, so I had simply affixed red bows to each of the pots. She hugged me and then looked at Mom. "It was all his idea," Mom said, pointing at me. "I just drove." Then Susan gave me a big thank-you kiss and looped her arm through mine. With that, Mom headed back to our car, to drive back to our cabin. Wearing a look I easily recognized, Susan practically dragged me inside to thank me again. And again. And again. ----- During the week Dad was gone, Mom and Susan spent a lot of time with the Raefords, getting to know them. I spent some time hanging out with them, but not as much as I had when Kendall was still in camp. I hung out with Erin. I could tell that she missed Drew as much as I missed Kendall (and Gina). I also tried to get a feel for how far Erin and Drew had gone. I guess it was half protectiveness and half curiosity. She probably expected me to grill her about it, and when I didn't, she relaxed quite a bit and opened up. She wasn't exactly talkative about what they did together (mostly heavy petting), but she wasn't secretive either. Basically, I respected her privacy and she respected mine. Dad returned the next Saturday. Mom got all dressed up to meet him at the airport in Columbia, and they spent the afternoon in the city. The following day, the Raefords and a number of other families left. The day after that, things began to settle into a normal late-summer routine. Susan and I spent time together, but we weren't overt about it. My whole family knew, of course, but we still tried to be discreet. She and I basically enjoyed ourselves together, talking, lying by the lake, having sex, making love, or just plain fucking. My family spent our last week at camp just relaxing. With so many other families leaving, the camp soon seemed like a ghost town, with a few permanent residents, the occasional weekend visitors from the surrounding towns, and retired couples. Finally, my family had to start getting ready to go home. Susan was sad to see us leave, but she planned to visit Atlanta. When I asked her what she was going to do the rest of the time, she smiled mischievously. "I've got a few friends who come for off-season visits," she said. "Other swinging couples?" I asked. "Maybe one or two." "Oh. Cool." "Besides," she said with a sly grin, "this is the electronic age. I've got a few toys. But they're not like you. You're... a lot more energetic." I blushed suitably. Teasing, she offered to show me how some of them worked. "That's okay," I said. "I don't mind the idea, but I guess I prefer the old fashioned way." "Oh, so do I," she said, "but toys are sometimes fun." Then she sighed with mocking wistfulness. "When my smart, funny, sexy lover isn't here, the toys'll have to do." My blush only deepened. "So, what are you gonna do the rest of the time?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "I've got the boys coming home soon," she replied, "so I've got to get the house ready. And I'm going to visit Stacy." "Oh. Yeah." "And I suspect I'll do some traveling this fall and winter. I want to go to Houston to see Doug at school, and then I want to go to California to see some friends from the Navy. I'm planning to visit Atlanta, of course, and I'm going to go see Kirk graduate. While I'm in Annapolis, I want to go to Arlington." "Oh? What's in Arlington?" "Not what, who," she said. "Okay. So _who's_ in Arlington?" "Jack." "Jack? Who's he?" And then I Got It. "Oh... Oh! Sorry." "That's okay," she said, caressing my face gently. "I want to visit his grave. It... it's been a while since I've been there. And... and I want to talk to him... to tell him about you and Stacy." After that, I put my arm around her and she simply held me tight. She didn't cry, but her mind was clearly somewhere else, some_when_ else. My last evening with Susan was actually pretty quiet. My parents and Susan had talked about it, and they agreed that I could spend the night at Susan's house. Instead of wild, passionate sex, we made love slowly, tenderly. Afterward, I held her and she _did_ cry. When her tears dried, she clung to me in silence. Then, softly, she cleared her throat. "When Jack went on cruise... the last time," she said, her voice slowly gaining strength. "We spent our last night at a friend's house on the Pacific. We could hear the surf all night, and it was so peaceful. The next morning, we got up early and walked along the beach." She paused to wipe her cheeks. "That's one of my favorite memories of him," she whispered. Then she propped herself up on one elbow. "You remind me of him," she said, gazing at me intently. "A lot. But you're also very different. He had more drive and ambition than you do right now." She placated me with a gesture. "I see it in you, but it's not ready to come out yet. You haven't figured out what you want to do with your life, and right now, that's okay." I nodded. "But you've got a... a complexity Jack never had. He wasn't simple, quite the contrary, but we lived in a black and white time. His choices were all fairly straightforward. Duty. Honor. Loyalty. Family. When Jack made a decision, it was based on 'the right thing to do.' You've got the same sense of what's right, but your choices aren't quite as clear-cut as his were. You have to think about what's right and then _decide_ to do it. So while you're very much like Jack--and sometimes it's eerie how similar you are--you're also very different." Then she looked at me seriously for a long moment, neither of us speaking. At last, she laid her head on my chest and rubbed my stomach. Eventually, her hand drifted lower. When she traced a finger over my penis, I rolled her onto her back and then straddled her hips. "Sometimes," she said, reaching for my manhood once again, "you're just _like_ he was." She stroked me until I was hard, fondling my balls as she did. Then she had me scoot up so she could suck me. As I supported myself with my hands on the wall above her bed, she took her time and sucked me slowly. Occasionally, she put her hands on my ass and pulled my hips toward her face, swallowing my length. Before I came, I moved between her legs again. She was wet and ready for me, and pulled me close when I entered her. We rocked together in a comfortable rhythm, both of us building toward our climax. Afterward, we lay panting, simply enjoying our embrace. Finally, I curled up behind her, my arms around her, and we drifted off to sleep. The next morning, our last together for the summer, we got up early and padded onto the back porch. In the early morning light, we sat together in silence, enjoying the heady fragrance of the pine forest and the sweet, soft scent of the jasmine. ----- The trip home to Atlanta was as boring as ever. We arrived--tired and cramped--at a house that had been dormant for almost three months. The air inside was stale, hot, and stuffy. I called Amy the day after we got home, but I put off meeting with her, explaining that I had a ton of work to do around the house. It was a thin excuse, and I don't think she really accepted it, but she didn't press the issue. As we worked around the house, I discovered I had a problem; none of my clothes fit me anymore. All of my shirts were either too tight or simply too small altogether. Even my shorts and jeans seemed tight. I was positive that Mom had secretly washed my entire wardrobe in hot water. When she discovered me in my room, standing in a pair of briefs that were too small--and way too revealing--she couldn't suppress her laughter. "You've grown," she said, still chuckling. "How?" I moaned. "I've been eating right. I've been working out. How could I have gotten bigger?" "Honey," Mom said, "you're still growing. And you've gained muscle. Your chest is bigger. Your shoulders are bigger. I think your stomach's the only thing that's actually smaller." Before I could open my mouth, I had a frightening thought. Almost in a panic, I ran into the bathroom and pulled out the scale. When I stepped onto it, my jaw dropped. I weighed 179 pounds! When I eventually calmed down, I turned gloomy. But instead of letting me obsess over it, Mom tugged me in front of the bathroom mirror (still in my very, very tight underwear) and stood next to me. "Paul, your weight's not important," she said. "How you look and feel are the only things that matter." "But, Mom," I practically whined, "what about all my clothes?" "We can buy you new clothes, honey." "What about wrestling? How am I gonna lose twelve pounds?" "There _are_ other weight classes," she said. "Yeah, 185 and Heavyweight!" "So? You can wrestle at 185." "No, I can't," I explained, as patiently as I could. "Bruce Bollinger is our 185-pounder, and he's a lot better than me. Besides..." "Besides?" "Besides...," I continued, then faltered again. "Oh, yeah. He graduated last year." "Then I'm sure Coach Simmons is looking for a new 185-pounder," she said, ending the discussion. After that, we spent an agonizing three days replacing my wardrobe. Three days with Mom and Erin, shopping for clothes, were almost more than I could handle. With their help, though, I got a lot of cool new outfits for school. Because Mom was buying so much for me, Erin got a lot of new clothing as well. Dad groaned when he learned how much we'd spent, then promptly said he was going to look in the newspaper for a second job. He was teasing, of course, but it still made me realize how much our parents spent on Erin and me. ----- In addition to everything else we had going on, Mom and Dad insisted that Chris move into our guest bedroom. He'd already been working in Atlanta for a few days and was living in a hotel. He liked his new job, especially the challenge of building a team and developing shows. And after we finished shopping for clothes, I knew I couldn't put off meeting with Amy any longer. I wanted to keep avoiding it, but when I dodged a second phone call, Mom gave me a disapproving look. So I called Amy back and asked her if we could meet. She seemed oblivious to any problems, and was eager to see me. I borrowed Mom's car and drove over to Amy's house. It felt like I was driving to my own funeral. When I rang the doorbell, she opened the door and practically leapt into my arms, showering me with kisses. Then I drove us to the Baskin Robbins near her house. The conversation did _not_ go well. Over ice cream, I tried to explain my thoughts, but I sounded like an idiot, even to myself. I told her I cared for her, very much, but I didn't think we could be a couple anymore. I had already decided not to mention Gina, since I didn't want to use her as an excuse. If I did, I knew Amy would think I might get back together with her if I broke up with Gina. And whether I was with Gina or not was beside the point. Once again, Amy tearfully apologized for our fight. She promised to do anything I wanted. She promised to change anything about herself that I didn't like. I told her there was nothing wrong with her, we just couldn't be together. She didn't understand. At first, she seemed lost. But as she slowly realized I wouldn't be tempted, begged, wheedled, convinced, or cajoled into a relationship with her, she turned nasty. Since we were in a public place, I thought she wouldn't make a scene. I was wrong. Her ice cream cone hit my chest and splattered across my shirt, covering me in sticky, melting ice cream. Then, at the top of her lungs, she screamed at me that I was a worthless asshole and she never wanted to see me again. Needless to say, the other patrons of the ice cream shop were completely nonplussed, simply staring at her in shock as she stormed out the door. As I hastily followed her, I tried to clean myself up. But I was more worried about her than anything else. When I got outside, she was already stalking toward the pay phone at the gas station next door. I offered to take her home. She told me to leave her alone. I pleaded with her to let me take her home. She told me to drop dead. I tried reasoning with her. She told me to fuck off. I may be slow on the uptake, but I know when I'm not wanted. While she made her call, I walked back to the station wagon. No matter how angry she was, I wasn't going to abandon her. While she glowered at me, I waited fifteen minutes, until a car pulled into the gas station. I recognized Tony Malone and Becky Leonardi. Amy got in, slammed the door, and they took off in a screech of tires. Becky flipped me the bird as they did. With a sigh, I started Mom's car and drove home. ----- Later that night, I called Scott Anderson. "So, man," he said, "good to hear from you. You survived your summer?" "Yeah. My aunt's place is nice." "That's cool," he said. I could almost hear the anticipation in his voice. "So," he asked, "you broke up with Amy?" "You heard?" "Yeah. Shannon called a while ago. Becky called her." "Super," I said in resignation. "Yeah. Becky's already stirring up trouble," he said. "And the hits just _keep_ on comin'." "Becky's a bitch," he said. "She's got Tony so whipped, he doesn't know which way is up." "You wanna hear my side of it?" "Don't need to." "Huh?" I asked, confused. "You didn't hit her?" "No." "She's not pregnant?" he asked. "God, no." I could almost hear him shrug over the phone. "Then I don't need to hear what happened." "Oh." "I know you. I know you wouldn't screw her over just for fun. If she's not the girl for you, then she's not the girl for you. If she can't handle it, that's her problem." "Thanks, Scott," I said. "No problem, man. Shannon said Amy was a little psycho anyway. I mean, after that... um... you know... problem last year." "Don't remind me," I said sullenly. "Yeah, sorry. But Shannon said Amy was gonna be trouble back then." "Why didn't you _tell_ me?" "'Cause you two seemed happy. I thought Shannon was nuts, but she was right." "Yeah." "Shan hasn't said 'I told you so,' but she knows I'm gonna pay attention next time she tells me something like that." "Well," I said, "next time, tell _me_ too." "It's cool, man. So, do we need to find you another girl? What about Eileen Cooper. She's got a hot bod. Nice tits, too. I think Shannon was in her English cla--" "No way, man," I said a little too quickly. Then I explained about Gina and her family moving to Atlanta. "You mean Gina's for _real?_" he asked, somewhat astounded. "What? You think I made her up?" To my surprise, he chuckled. "Shan called that one too." "Huh?" "I thought you were making up the whole 'beautiful girlfriend in another state,' but Shannon said you weren't." "You really should listen to Shannon more," I said, trying not to sound too caustic. "You got _that_ right, buddy," he replied. "Anyway, when's she get here? Gina, I mean." "I have no clue. Things are kinda crazy around here. And they're probably even worse with her family. You know, since they're packing and moving from Charleston." "No kidding." "So I don't know. Before school, though." "Cool," he said. "'Cause there's this party s'posed to be the Friday before school starts. At Don Meeker's grandparents' barn. You up for it?" "Yeah." "Cool." Then he paused for a few moments. "So, what've you been up to?" I told him a little about my summer, but not much. Just the mundane stuff. I also told him about buying new clothes, and probably having to move up a weight class. "Hey," he said, "that's actually good news." "Huh?" Then he told me about talking to Coach Simmons over the summer. Evidently, some new guy and his family had moved down from Ohio. The new guy was a 167-pound wrestler. "Do you know anything about him?" I asked. "Coach said he was fifth in the state when he was a sophomore. That was last year. Coach was also telling me about wrestling in Ohio. Man, those people are some serious wrestling nuts. This guy started when he was six." "No shit?" "No shit, man. He's been wrestling for ten years. So that's why I was talking to Coach. He wanted to know if I knew how to get in touch with you. I think he was gonna try and get you to bulk up and take over Bruce's weight class." "Well," I said, "he doesn't have to worry. I weigh 179." "179?! Man, you must be a tub," he said, the grin evident in his voice. "What'd you do all summer at your Aunt's, eat bonbons?" "No, man," I said. "I was working out." "_Sure_ you were. Now you're gonna tell me you look like that German guy. What's his name? Schwarzenegger! Yeah, Arnold Schwarzenegger." "Seriously. I was working out." "Right. Whatever. You were what, 155 when you started wrestling last year?" "Yeah," I said. "And now you're 179? You're a tub, man. I had to eat night and day to stay above 140, and you come back from vacation all heavyweight on me." He continued to tease me for a while, and I was defensive at first. Then I realized he was just trying to get a rise out of me, so I stopped worrying about it. He'd see the truth for himself soon enough. I invited him over to hang out, and he accepted. When he arrived, his eyes nearly bugged out. "Shit, man," he said. "You _are_ Schwarzenegger! Coach is gonna have kittens when he sees you." "Well," I said with a grin, "I'm not Shannon, so... I _told_ you so." When we stepped inside, Mom said hello to Scott and volunteered to fix us Cokes. After that, we hung out in the living room. He told me all about the goings on of the summer. Our friend Kelly Duchesne now had a serious girlfriend, Livy Phelps. I knew _of_ her, but I hadn't ever talked to her. She was a cute blonde who was a year younger than us. Scott and Shannon had been out with them a couple of times, and Livy sounded like a nice girl. "So, I know about Tony," I said, mentally writing him off, "but what about Scotty?" "Oh, man, you haven't heard? Oh yeah, that's right, you've been gone since right after school got out." "What happened?" "His family moved to Phoenix, Arizona, man. Two months ago, I think. His dad's company transferred him." We reminisced about Scotty for a while, but then Scott had to go. He had to stop by Shannon's house on the way home. He wanted to tell her about Gina, and about how much I had changed. "Shannon's gonna freak when she sees you," he said at the door. Then he held out his hand. "Hey, man, it's good to have you home." "Thanks," I replied, gripping his hand. "It's good to _be_ home." "With Tony and Becky being so stuck up, Shan and I have been kinda avoiding them. Kelly and Livy are fun, but Livy's mom won't let 'em go out more than once a week. So I'm glad you're back. And now we can finally meet the make-believe girl, Gina." "Something like that," I said with a grin. "Cool. Well, I'll call you tomorrow." "'K. I'll talk to you then." "Damn," he said, shaking his head as he walked out to his old Buick. "179!" ----- Elizabeth came to visit a few days later. She and Chris spent the entire weekend with a realtor, looking at houses. They didn't find a single one that fit all their criteria: four to five bedrooms, three or more full bathrooms, a pool or hot tub (preferably both), located in our school district, which cost less than a small fortune. We lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, so a lot of nearby houses fit most of those criteria, but some of them were really expensive. They did find one house, but it was only for rent. They talked it over Sunday night and decided to rent the house for one year, then continue their new home search at a more leisurely pace. The rental house had four bedrooms, three baths, and a hot tub (but no pool). When they told us where it was, I realized it was in Scott Anderson's subdivision. Then Chris and Elizabeth called home to tell the girls about it. Afterward, they let me talk to Gina. She sounded tired, but was happy to talk to me. She said they'd been packing almost day and night. The third time she yawned, I told her I loved her and said goodnight. Before Elizabeth went back to Charleston, she, Chris, and my parents sat down and planned their schedules. Dad had a set of trips to fly, so he'd be in and out of town on an irregular basis. Chris, of course, was working hard at his new job with the news station. That left Mom and Elizabeth to do most of the actual coordinating. The Coulters already had a buyer for their house, so they needed to be out of it by the end of August. Unfortunately, their new rental house wouldn't be available until the day after Labor Day. They planned to spend a few days living in a hotel, thinking that all four of them would be an imposition on my family. Mom and Dad didn't even argue about it, they simply insisted that the Coulter family stay with us. With that, the discussion was effectively closed, but I could tell that Chris and Elizabeth were relieved. After that, Elizabeth flew back to Charleston. Because Chris was living with us, we got regular updates on their progress with the move and sale of their house. I talked to Gina almost nightly. We could only talk for five or ten minutes, but we made the most of the time we had. Gina's and my parents had talked it over and decided that since the Coulters were only staying with us for four days, it would be all right for Gina and me to sleep in my bedroom. Chris and Elizabeth would stay in the guest bedroom, of course, and Leah would sleep in Erin's room. So Gina and I had even more reason to be eager for her to arrive. ----- The Coulters closed on the sale of their house the final week of August. Chris flew to Charleston for the day, signed the papers, then returned to Atlanta. They also bought a used Chevy Monte Carlo for Kara and moved her into an apartment near campus. Finally, the professional movers arrived and packed all the family's belongings in a large moving truck. It was due to arrive at their new house the day after Labor Day, September 4. Elizabeth, Gina, and Leah drove in from Charleston at the end of August. They arrived late in the evening after a long and exhausting trip. Gina hugged me tiredly and then practically stumbled into the house. Dad was gone on a trip, so Chris and I unloaded the heavily laden station wagon. When we had everything inside, we all sat around and talked for a while instead of going to bed. But after about fifteen minutes, Erin and Leah retired for the night. One minute, they didn't seem tired, and the next, they were both yawning and telling us goodnight. Gina and I lasted a little longer, but not much. She hugged her dad and then her mom. I kissed Mom's cheek and then took Gina's hand. Before I led her toward my room, Mom and Elizabeth made sure we understood that these were special circumstances, and we normally wouldn't be allowed to spend the night together. When we nodded our understanding, they told us goodnight. I had cleared out my top dresser drawer and a section of my closet for Gina, but she didn't bother unpacking. Instead, her eyes came alight as soon as my bedroom door was shut. Then she flowed into my arms. I wrapped my arms around her as she hugged me tight, her head on my chest. Then we undressed and climbed into bed. It felt a little weird, but it also felt grown-up, like we were a married couple or something. Both of us slept in the nude, so we simply crawled under the sheets. She lay with her head on my chest and idly ran her fingers over my stomach. Then she reached down and fondled me until I was erect. For a while, she stroked my hard-on, but she kept nodding off. Finally, she fell asleep for good, so I gently rolled her to her side. Then I snuggled behind her and closed my eyes, nestling my dwindling erection against her ass. As I'd already discovered, sleeping with someone took some getting used to. I woke up a couple of times during the night, bound up in the sheets or with my arm asleep. Each time, I either untangled myself or gently moved my arm out from under Gina, then went back to sleep. In the morning, after I'd finally gotten a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was a little annoyed at being awakened. My irritation quickly faded, however, when I figured out that Gina was playing with my morning hard-on. When she realized I was awake, she flashed me a brilliant smile and then disappeared under the sheet. As she licked around the head of my cock, I threw the covers back. I came fairly quickly, but Gina didn't immediately swallow. Instead, she glanced at me, smiled tightly, then opened her mouth to show me the small white lake of semen. With another tight grin, she stroked my erection a couple of times and then dribbled the come onto my shaft. Then she cleaned my still-hard dick, licking her sperm-covered fingers as well. Finally, she began sucking me again, taking her time and enjoying herself. It took me a while to come the second time, but she didn't seem to mind. "Do I need to put on a shirt or something," Gina asked, sitting up and stretching, "before I go to the bathroom?" As a rule, we usually weren't nude around the house, since there was a danger (albeit slight) of visitors who didn't understand about our lifestyle. In addition, Mom didn't want to have towels covering all her furniture, so we usually wore casual clothes most of the time. But there wasn't any real taboo against walking around nude. I guess it was the difference between living in the textile world and living at a nudist camp. "Since it's just us here," I said, "you're probably okay without it." "That's what I figured, but I thought I'd ask." I nodded. "At home, back in Charleston, I mean, we usually put on _something_, but not always." "Same here," I said. Then she chuckled and told me about the time--when she was thirteen and Kara was sixteen--they had walked in from the pool and surprised their mom as she was signing for a delivery. Needless to say, the deliveryman had been _very_ startled to see two nude teenage girls. Their mom had simply finished signing for the package and then politely shut the front door. Still chuckling, Gina got up, kissed my forehead, then headed to the bathroom. Later that morning, Mom drove Elizabeth and Gina to my high school to register Gina for classes. I decided to tag along. During the short drive, we talked about the school itself and various teachers. When Gina heard what classes I was taking, she talked me into changing some of them to match a few of hers. Mom thought it was a great idea, since being in more advanced classes would challenge me. I didn't think I needed any challenging, but then I remembered Susan's remark about finding my drive and ambition. Without an argument, I agreed. It was kind of weird walking into the school without any students there. The faculty and staff had been there for a week, getting ready for school, but the buildings still seemed empty. I took the lead and we soon reached the guidance counselors' offices. While Elizabeth filled out the enrollment paperwork and provided copies of Gina's permanent record, Gina and I looked over the class schedule. Mom had once again talked me into taking Honors English, so Gina simply signed up for my class. Then she convinced me to take the more difficult Honors American History class with her. That meant I had to move my Algebra II class, but she needed to take the same class, so we signed up together. The rest of our classes were separate. She signed up for Latin III, while I moved my Spanish I class, which had been displaced by Algebra. I had to get my creative arts requirement out of the way, so I'd be in Art class while she was in the required one- semester Civics class (or the required Health class, the following semester). And finally, she signed up for Chemistry, which I had taken the previous year. While she was studying hydrocarbons, exothermic reactions, and other fun stuff, I'd be across the hall in Physics class. My friends and I always carefully engineered things so we'd have the same lunch. For the upcoming year, we'd settled on the third of four lunches, C lunch. Gina and I were in different classes for fourth period (Chemistry and Physics), but since we were in the same building, we'd have the same lunch. When we finished picking out--and in my case, rearranging--our classes, the guidance counselor filled out the forms. Then she filed Gina's records, updated mine, and made sure everything was in order. Gina and I would obviously have different homerooms-- since they were assigned alphabetically--but we did manage to get as many classes together as possible. On the way home, I asked Mom and Elizabeth if Gina and I could go to the party at Don Meeker's. Mom grilled me about who was driving (Scott), where was the party (Don's grandparents' barn), what time we'd be home (midnight), if there was going to be beer (probably, I answered honestly, but we'd be careful), and if there'd be drugs (probably, I answered honestly again, but we didn't mess with them at all). I knew she trusted me, but she always asked, so her questions didn't ruffle me. After a quick conversation with Elizabeth, they agreed to let us go. That afternoon, while our moms and sisters were at Erin's school, signing Leah up for eighth grade, Gina and I had the house to ourselves. To my surprise, we actually talked. Oh, we had sex (on the couch, in my room, and in the shower), but we spent most of our time talking about school, friends, wrestling, after-school hangouts, and a myriad of other things. I also called Scott to let him know that we were going to the party. He said he'd pick us up around seven. When our moms and sisters got home, Gina and I were sitting in the kitchen, simply relaxing and drinking Cokes. Leah's registration had actually been easy. Since she and Erin were friends, the guidance counselor had simply duplicated Erin's schedule for Leah. In eighth grade, they didn't have a lot of different course choices--just the basics, English, math, science, history, etc.--but they did have six classes a day, in different classrooms, just like the high school students. Once they got Leah registered, Mom drove them around and gave her a tour of the surrounding area. After dinner, Gina and I took a shower together and then got dressed for the party. While I shaved, she gathered her hair in a ponytail and put on lip gloss and eye shadow. She wore a white sundress that really showed off her body. I wore a pair of Bermuda shorts and a blue rayon shirt that she helped me pick out (she said it made my arms and chest look good). Instead of the expected car horn from the driveway, Scott and Shannon actually rang the doorbell. I let them in and introduced them to Gina. Once again, Scott's eyes nearly bugged out. I had said she was beautiful, but I don't think he really believed me. He even managed to blush when Shannon grinned insufferably and punched him in the shoulder. Then I introduced them to Gina's parents. I explained that Scott was the guy who'd gotten me started in wrestling. After a little small talk, we headed out to Scott's monster Buick. It was as big as I remembered. Together, Gina and I took up only half the back seat. "We're also gonna pick up Kelly and Livy," Scott said as he backed out of the driveway. At Kelly's house, Scott merely honked the horn. Kelly came running out, grinning at us. I introduced him to Gina as Scott put the car in gear. On the way to Livy's house, Kelly and I chatted (we had talked on the phone a couple of times, but not as much as Scott and I had). Kelly went to Livy's door to pick her up and then they practically skipped back to the car. They didn't want to split up--one of them sitting up front while the other sat in the back with us--so they started to climb into the back seat. To make room for them, Gina climbed into my lap. My hand rested comfortably on her upper thigh as we headed toward Don's grandparents' house. Shannon had a hand-drawn map, and we made it there in thirty minutes. The party was really cool. I got to see a lot of my friends from school, people I hadn't seen in months. I introduced Gina to everyone and she seemed to be having a good time. Don had gotten a keg of beer, so Scott, Kelly, and I each coughed up a few bucks to help pay for it and then grabbed cups for ourselves and our girls. Tony and Becky were there as well, although Amy wasn't. I felt a little sorry for her, but as I thought about how she had acted in the ice cream parlor, my sympathy waned considerably. Tony glared at me whenever I looked his way, but Becky was even worse. She seemed to be talking to all the girls, occasionally glancing or pointing at Gina. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I recognized her expression. Trouble. "Nobody listens to her," Shannon said quietly, following my glance. "Don't let her get to you. Gina seems real nice." Gina and Livy had gone to find the bathroom, and Scott and Kelly were getting more beer, so we were alone. "Thanks," I said. "I'm sorry about Amy." "Yeah, me too." "She was psycho, though. She got really into you, really fast." "No kidding." "And she used to be a really nice girl," Shannon said. "But she's been hanging out with Becky most of the summer, and she's... changed." Just then, Scott and Kelly came back. A few minutes later, Gina and Livy returned as well. After that, we mingled and enjoyed ourselves. There was good music blaring from a set of big speakers Don had set up, and the beer was cold. I still didn't like the taste much, but everyone else was drinking, so I was too. Since Livy's curfew was eleven o'clock, we left about a quarter past ten. The girls all had a good buzz going, but Scott, Kelly, and I were sober. We laughed and generally acted like teenagers during the drive home. After we dropped Livy and Kelly off, we had about an hour until our curfew. Scott pulled the car into the little park near his house. He and Shannon made out while Gina and I did the same. Since Scott and Shannon didn't know Gina all that well, I guess they decided to keep things tame. From the backseat, I could tell that Shannon had her shirt up and her bra unclasped, but she didn't actually remove any clothing. Gina and I fooled around as well, but I couldn't do anything more than fondle her through her sundress. She had fun teasing me as well, and squeezing my erection through my shorts. Eventually, our midnight curfew drew near. We composed ourselves and then drove to my house. During the short drive, Shannon and Gina chatted. Shannon thought it was really cool that Gina's family was staying with us. She and Scott teased us about me sneaking into Gina's room late at night, but Gina and I didn't mention our actual sleeping arrangements. When we pulled into my driveway, I thanked Scott for driving. Gina and Shannon shared a friendly goodbye and then I got out of the car. I extended a hand to help Gina out, pulling her toward me with a grin of anticipation. We waved to the other couple as they backed out. Then we headed inside. Once there, Gina poked her head into the guest bedroom to let her parents know we were home safely. I knocked on Mom's bedroom door, opened it a crack, and told her we were home. "Did you have fun, honey?" she asked. "Yeah, thanks. We're kinda tired, though. So we're gonna head to bed." "Okay. Sleep tight. Night." "Night." Back in my room, Gina was sitting on the bed, waiting for me. "Did you have fun?" I asked. She nodded. "Me too," I said. "But we've got some unfinished business." "Oh?" "Mmm hmm," I said, unzipping my shorts and stepping close to her. She grinned when I fished out my stiffening prick. "That looks like _serious_ business," she said with a smile. "It's very serious, miss," I replied. Then I put a hand on the back of her head. Willingly, she wrapped her lips around my erection and began sucking me. "Very serious," I breathed. "Very serious indeed." It was after three when we finally curled up together and fell asleep. Sleeping with someone may take some getting used to, but I decided it was _more_ than worth it. ----- Gina and I spent the weekend relaxing. We enjoyed our time together and especially enjoyed sleeping together. Saturday night, as we lay together after making love, she told me that her mom had explained to Leah why our parents were letting us sleep together. "I don't think Leah cared, though," Gina said. "Why not?" "'Cause she gets to spend the night with Erin." "Huh?" "You mean you don't know about Leah and Erin?" she asked in disbelief. "Know _what_ about them?" Instead of explaining, she just chuckled. "You need to pay more attention to what's going on around you." "I do." "You really don't know about Leah and Erin?" _No,_ I thought, _but I'm beginning to get a clue._ "Paul," she explained, "they've been fooling around since we were at camp." Then she gazed into my eyes. "You really didn't know?" I shook my head. "You're such a goof." Then she stroked my cheek fondly. "But you're _my_ goof." As she pulled me between her legs, my mind was going a million miles an hour. My body was on autopilot as I moved within her, but she didn't seem to notice. I'm ashamed to say that while I was having sex with her, I was thinking about Erin and Leah. I guess I'd been in my own little world at camp, because I honestly had no clue that my sister and Leah were fooling around. But as I thought about it, a lot of little things clicked into place and suddenly made sense. By the time I groaned and spurted into Gina, I had decided that as long as Erin and Leah were enjoying themselves and not hurting anyone else, whatever they did was their own business. I was still a little shocked, though. Okay, maybe I was a _lot_ shocked. But I definitely wasn't worried. If Gina knew about what our sisters were up to, then the chances were good that our mothers did as well. I knew they'd avert any problems before they came up. ----- Later that weekend, I got a call from Jenny. When she had given me her phone number, her last day at camp, I had palmed it and then thrown it away at my first opportunity. Needless to say, I was surprised to hear from her. "How are you?" she asked. "I'm cool. How're you?" We talked for a few minutes about the end of summer, and what she had done after their family returned from camp. I told her a little about my last weeks at camp, but it was mostly routine stuff. "So," she ventured, "I've been thinking about you." "Oh?" I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Uh-huh. I thought maybe we could, you know, get together. I only live in Buckhead. You could come see me. If you want." "Yeah," I said, my mind working frantically, "that'd be great. Gina and I would love to see you." From the other end of the line, silence greeted me. Then, "Gina?" "Yeah. Her dad got a job with some new TV station here in Atlanta. They moved here. I'm sure she'd love to see you, too." "Oh. Um... yeah." "But things are kinda hectic around here," I explained. "Do you want me to call you once school starts?" "Yeah, whatever," she said. "That'd be great." "Cool. I'll call you." "Okay. Bye." "Bye." "Who was that?" Gina asked, walking up as I hung up the phone. "Oh," I said, choosing my words carefully, "just one of those contests. You know the kind where they want you to enter a bunch of times, but it's almost impossible to win." She nodded. "I told 'em I wasn't interested." "Oh," she said. "Okay." ----- The first day of school was frenzied, as it always was. Scott usually picked me up in the mornings, but I asked him to get there a little early so I could give Gina a tour of the school before the first bell. When the homeroom bell rang, she gave me a kiss and headed toward her building. In our English and American History classes, we got seats together. Our Algebra teacher did the seating chart alphabetically, so we were a couple of desks apart. We ate lunch with Scott, Shannon, and Kelly. Livy hadn't been able to match her lunch schedule to Kelly's; she was in A lunch. Of course, we came home with homework. When we walked into the house, we discovered that no one was home. So we changed out of our school clothes and then fooled around on my bed for a while. An hour later, Erin and Leah got home. Just before six o'clock, Mom and Elizabeth returned from the Coulters' house. They were exhausted. The movers had taken almost all day unloading the truck. Chris and Elizabeth had originally planned for their family to move into the new house that night, but since it was basically filled with boxes, the Coulters were clearly going to have to alter their plans. Because Mom and Elizabeth were so worn out, Gina and I fixed dinner. As we ate, we talked about how we could get their house into a livable state. Mom suggested that they spend the remainder of the week with us. On Saturday, we'd all go to their new house and unpack. Dad was due to return on Thursday, so he'd be able to help too. Gina and I, of course, were more than happy with the change in plans. It meant we'd be sleeping together for several more days. Erin and Leah gave each other the same look that Gina and I exchanged. Once I knew what was going on, it was easy to see the signs. For the rest of that week, Mom and Elizabeth spent most of their time at the Coulters' new house. They sorted and arranged boxes, and unpacked a few things, but left most of the heavy lifting for the weekend. At school, Gina slowly got used to the campus and her class schedule, and started making friends. Tony Malone was in my Spanish class, but he wouldn't have anything to do with me. He told me I was a worthless prick. After two days of being rebuffed, I decided he wasn't worth the effort. I'd always been fairly friendly with Tony, but I wasn't as close to him as I was to Scott or Kelly. I hated losing a friend, but it was his choice, not mine. When the weekend arrived, Scott and Shannon came over to help with the unpacking. Shannon was in Gina's Chemistry class, and the two were rapidly becoming friends. Chris and Elizabeth were more than happy to have the help. While the men moved the furniture into place, the women concentrated on one room at a time, beginning with the kitchen. Midday, Elizabeth and Mom went to a nearby deli and came home with a huge platter of sandwiches. Surprisingly, we were mostly finished by the end of the day. When we finally got the dining room set up, Chris called and ordered pizzas. Dad and I went to pick them up and then stopped to get a couple of six-packs of beer on the way back. The refrigerator had been running all day, so there were a couple of six-packs of cold Cokes as well. When Dad and I returned, we were nearly mobbed by the hungry crowd. The next day, Scott and Shannon came over again. While the men hung pictures and did any necessary heavy lifting, the women cleaned, scrubbed, and polished. We had a quick lunch of deli sandwiches and then went back to work. By mid-afternoon, we were mostly done. Elizabeth still had a lot of decorating to do, but the house was no longer a box-choked maze. In appreciation of everyone's hard work, Chris offered to take us all to dinner. The Coulters still had to move the last few things from our house, so they drove over with us. Scott and Shannon planned to go to Scott's house (right down the road) and shower. Afterward, they'd meet us back at the Coulters'. At my house, I helped Gina pack her things. We were each a little gloomy, since we wouldn't be sleeping together anymore, but it was something we'd known was coming. I helped Chris load their station wagon and then they drove to their own house, to shower and get ready for dinner. Chris took us to a really nice steakhouse downtown. Exhausted but happy, we enjoyed our "great, huge, barbarian hunks of dead cow," as Elizabeth put it. After the plates were cleared away, we lingered, relaxing. Later, Gina and I rode back to her house with Scott and Shannon. At her door, it took us a long time to say goodbye. We'd gotten used to living together--and getting ready together in the mornings--so it would be odd not having her around all the time. After several long moments, she kissed me goodbye and I walked back to Scott's car. "She's a really nice girl," Shannon said as I flopped into the back seat. "Not psycho?" I asked. "_Definitely_ not psycho." "And she's hot, too," Scott said, grinning. "A total fox--" He oofed as Shannon elbowed him in the ribs. "She _is_ cute," Shannon agreed. "Thanks," I replied. "I think so too." During the rest of the quick drive to my house, we were mostly silent. "Thanks again, y'all," I said when they dropped me off. "It was fun," Shannon said. "Yeah," Scott agreed. "See you tomorrow morning, bright and early." "Bright and early," I groaned. ----- On the fourth Saturday in September, Gina and I drove to Chattanooga so we could ride with the Paytons to see the first UT home football game. We were on the road by six in the morning. Almost as soon as we reached the Paytons' house, we piled into their RV and headed toward Knoxville. Adam and Melissa were both dressed in orange and white, head to toe. It was almost scary. Drew wasn't as festive as his parents, but he still wore a UT shirt and cap. We arrived in Knoxville and Adam maneuvered the Winnebago into a spot between two other campers. Evidently, several other Chattanooga police officers came up for the games, and they ended up parking with their local fellows in the Knoxville PD. At first, I wondered why the locals would still bring their campers to a football game. Once I saw the crowded parking lots, however, I understood. Football time in Tennessee was synonymous with party time in Tennessee. While Adam and Melissa greeted their friends, Drew and I set up a big charcoal grill. Then he showed me how to stack the briquettes so they'd form the best coals. Finally, he lit the fire and closed the grill. Then Melissa introduced Gina and me to the other cops and their families. I shook a lot of people's hands but didn't remember half their names. They seemed a little surprised to actually meet some of Kendall's friends. Nonetheless, they all had good things to say about her, and were happy to meet us. After the introductions, Gina and I wanted to go find Kendall, but her mom said she would meet us at the camper. About thirty minutes later, Kendall showed up. When she saw us, she ran over and gave me a big hug. I lifted her into the air and swung her around, kissing her soundly as I did. When I set her down, she blushed prettily. To her tremendous embarrassment, several of the guys hooted and clapped. She was a lot more circumspect when she greeted Gina, but just as warm. Since the game started later in the day, Kendall wanted to show us her dorm room. Drew wanted to go with us, but before Kendall could protest, Melissa stepped in. "Your dad said he needed help with the barbeque, Drew," she said. As if on cue, Adam turned from the grill. For a half second, he looked at Melissa. Then, without seeming to pause, he asked Drew to start getting the meat ready. Drew immediately headed for the camper. When Melissa's eyes met mine, she smiled warmly and gestured for us to go. I thanked her with a nod as we headed toward Kendall's dorm. Kendall, who'd seen the whole exchange and probably understood it better than I did, merely shook her head in wonder. We trekked across the campus, which was already filling with football fans, then crossed a pedestrian bridge over a busy street. Kendall's dorm, Clement Hall, wasn't near the rest of the dorms. When we entered, she suddenly stopped, turned to me, and smiled nervously. Then she began thinking intently, her eyes darting side to side as she silently considered options. "Um, Paul?" she asked. "Yeah?" "It's not visitation yet, so we'll have to sneak you in." At my confused look, she explained about visitation hours. The residence hall had two sides, one for men and one for women. Except at certain times, men weren't allowed on the women's side, and vice versa. On Saturday, visitation was from noon until two in the morning. Since it wasn't yet noon, I couldn't enter the women's wing. Then Kendall told me about the outside fire exit and gave me directions. I walked around the building and nervously stood by the nondescript steel door. I loitered for what seemed like an eternity--but was probably only a few minutes--until the door opened. To my relief, Kendall motioned me into the building. Then we jogged up four flights of stairs. At the door to the hallway, Kendall cautiously opened it and peered out. The coast was clear, so we dashed to her room, which was only four doors away. Panting and grinning, we practically huddled in her room, trying to discern if anyone had heard us. Then I looked at my watch and burst out laughing. When the girls looked at me in shock, I simply held up my wrist and pointed at the time. It was a quarter 'til twelve; in fifteen minutes, we would've been able to skip the clandestine stairwell trip. "My roommate's gone home for the weekend," Kendall said, still panting. "The girls in the other side of the suite are pledging sororities, so they're probably gonna be gone all day." Then she gave us a tour, such as it was. The room had a long dresser immediately to the right of the door, with a two-person desk opposite it. To the left was the door to the bathroom, which contained a toilet, sink, and shower. There was a door on the other side of the bathroom. It led to the other room in the suite. The main part of the dorm room--with two beds- -was beyond a partition wall behind the desk. Kendall's roommate, Abby, liked disco music. Her walls were covered with Abba, Bee Gees, and Donna Summer posters. Kendall had a big poster of Albert Einstein--the one where he's sticking out his tongue--above her bed. She had a nice flower-print comforter on the bed itself, complete with several throw pillows. Much to my surprise, she also had a big stuffed bear. When she saw me looking at it, she blushed, grinning sheepishly. "Paul," she said, "meet Paul." "You have a bear named Paul?" I asked. "Cool. What a coincidence." Kendall merely rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "I named him after _you_, silly," she said with amused exasperation. Then she and Gina simply grinned at each other in shared sufferance. "Your mom seemed to be pretty cool about us coming here alone," I said, trying to change the subject. "Oh, my goodness," Kendall said, all of a sudden. "You're not going to believe what she did." "What?" Gina and I asked simultaneously. Kendall told us about how she'd been planning to get on the pill as soon as she came to college. The student health clinic, she explained, offered free birth control. Guys simply had to watch a movie about sexually transmitted diseases, read a pamphlet, and then they could get free rubbers. For women who wanted birth control pills, it was almost as simple. In addition to the movie and pamphlet, they had to have a doctor's exam (to make sure they didn't have a cervical cancer or high blood pressure). After that, the doctor wrote the woman a prescription for birth control pills, which the health clinic provided for free. It wasn't really free, but since most students had no income, the county health department basically picked up the expense. Kendall wanted to take advantage of the service, until she met an almost insurmountable obstacle. In order to set up the appointment and get the free pills, she had to be eighteen. She'd been dejected about it, but saw no way around the problem. That is, until her mother stepped in. While Kendall was still in Chattanooga, her mother had come to her room and talked about "seeing the doctor." It had taken Kendall a few minutes to figure out what her mom was talking about, but once she did, she was dumbfounded. Melissa had basically offered to take Kendall to the doctor and get her birth control pills. "Did your dad know?" Gina asked. Kendall shook her head emphatically. "He'd kill me if he did. But that's not all. The really freaky part about it," she said, "is that my mom told me I should go ahead and get several months' worth of pills. Then after my birthday, in February, I could get my next month's prescription from the student health clinic. But there's no possible way she could've known about that." "What makes you think that?" I asked. "Because," Kendall said, as if the answer were self-evident, "I made sure she never knew about the pamphlet I got from UT, about the birth control pills." At that point, I laughed. When the girls both looked at me curiously, I explained. "You remember I told you I didn't get away with _half_ the things I thought I did?" I asked Kendall. "That my parents usually knew what I was up to?" She nodded. "I told you, your parents are probably the same way." "No way," she said. "You don't know my mom." I looked at her skeptically, until she blushed and looked down. "Okay, okay. Maybe you're right," she said at last. "So you're on the pill now?" Gina asked. "For almost three weeks," Kendall replied, grinning shamelessly. "Cool," Gina said. "Then you know what I wanna do?" she asked, her voice suddenly sultry. Before Kendall or I could answer, Gina dropped to her knees in front of the taller girl and flipped up her skirt. Completely shocked, Kendall merely stood there as Gina kissed her panty- covered crotch. Then Gina pulled aside the pale blue panties and gasped in surprise. "When did you shave?" Gina asked. Without waiting for an answer, she moaned low in her throat and began tonguing Kendall's smooth labia. When Gina fumbled for me with her right hand, I obligingly stepped forward. With one hand, she unzipped my shorts and roughly extracted my hardening manhood. I let her stroke me for a few seconds and then I stepped toward Kendall. I caught the older girl in an embrace and kissed her with growing heat. "Sometimes," Kendall whispered with a grin, "I miss Gina." Then she closed her eyes and moaned softly as Gina undoubtedly sucked her clit. After several minutes, Gina took her hand off my dick and lowered Kendall's panties. I used her distraction to move behind the taller girl. Gina moaned in surprise when I lifted Kendall's skirt and pushed my dick between her soft thighs. Then Gina alternated between licking my shaft and sucking Kendall's pussy. With my arms around Kendall's body, I supported her while cupping her ample breasts. Then I tilted my hips and aimed the head of my dick at Kendall's slippery opening. Gina helped insert my cock and then I eased into Kendall's tight pussy. While Gina continued licking and sucking Kendall's clit, I fucked the taller girl from behind. When I came, I buried myself in her steamy depths and clutched her to me. Then I held myself immobile within her while Gina drove her over the edge. Kendall was completely silent as her orgasm washed over her, her pussy clamping and releasing my cock as she climaxed. Finally, I slowly withdrew my shrinking member. Gina moaned hungrily when a dribble of semen came with it, hurriedly pressing her lips to Kendall's leaking sex. Kendall arched her back and leaned against me as Gina's lips and tongue worked their magic. Gina moaned softly as she cleaned Kendall's and my combined fluids. As Gina gripped Kendall's hips, I ran my hands under her shirt and then pushed up her bra, palming the soft skin of her breasts. As soon as my fingers tweaked her nipples, her breathing became even more ragged. Together, Gina and I drove Kendall toward another orgasm. With a nearly silent cry, she came again. When her orgasm finally subsided, Kendall sagged against me. "I've really missed you two," she sighed. When she turned her head, I kissed her tenderly. "Us too," Gina said. Then Gina stood and looked at me, licking her lips suggestively. Kendall caught the look and stepped to the side. Instead of moving out of the way, she walked behind Gina, reaching around the darker girl to pop the snap on her shorts. Without ceremony, she swept them and Gina's panties downward. As Gina stepped out of them, my cock began to harden again. As Gina bent over the bed, I fucked her from behind. While I did, Kendall ran her fingers over the darker girl's body, teasing her nipples and occasionally caressing her clit. Gina came twice and was working on a third orgasm when I felt my own climax building. Instead of coming inside her, I pulled out, turned her around, and pushed her to her knees in front of me. Kendall was there immediately, fingering Gina's pussy as the darker girl sucked my slippery manhood. As soon as the first gush of my semen hit the back of Gina's throat, she climaxed, moaning in ecstasy. ----- By the time we cleaned up and made it back to the tailgate party, the food was almost ready. The game didn't start until much later that afternoon, so we had time to enjoy ourselves in the company of the cops and their families. Everyone was very friendly and the beer flowed freely. It was raucous, but that seemed to be the general tone of the tailgating crowd. Kendall had gotten us tickets in the students' section, so Gina, Drew, and I would watch the game with her. Since the season opener was against Utah (_not_ a powerhouse team), Adam and Melissa were going to stay at the camper, listen to the game on the radio, and continue to party with their friends. About a half-hour before the game started, Kendall, Gina, Drew, and I said goodbye to Adam and Melissa and then headed toward the stadium. Inside, thousands of fans in orange and white thronged the concourses. We eventually found our seats and sat down, eagerly anticipating the kickoff. Drew was having a good time checking out the cute older girls in the sections near us. When he saw me gazing calmly at him, he grinned sheepishly, but didn't stop looking. The game itself was a blowout. The Volunteers beat Utah, 51-18. We screamed, cheered, and generally had a blast. Whenever the other team had the ball, we would shout as loud as we could. With all those people in the stadium--and there were _a lot_--the noise was almost deafening. Football was fun to watch on TV, but it was an absolutely amazing experience seeing the game in person. When it was over, we threaded our way through the stream of humanity, steadily moving toward the cops' tailgate party. It was already pretty late when we got there, but the party seemed to be going strong. Worn out, we simply relaxed for a while. Since her roommate would be gone, Kendall had asked her if a "couple of friends" could spend the night in the room. She had neglected to mention that one of her friends was a guy, so Abby had agreed. Then Kendall asked her mom if Gina and I could spend the night in the dorm. She told Melissa that Abby's boyfriend had offered to let me spend the night in his room, in the men's wing. Gina, of course, would spend the night in Kendall's room. Kendall had obviously put a lot of thought into concocting a plausible story. Melissa talked it over with Adam, and they agreed. He was reluctant at first, but she assured him that I would be sleeping in the men's wing. I had a sneaking suspicion that Melissa knew _exactly_ what Kendall was trying to get away with. And when Kendall wasn't looking, Melissa confirmed it by glancing at me and mouthing, "You're welcome." With that, we headed back across campus to Kendall's dorm. This time, the trip to her floor was simpler, since it was during visitation hours and we could simply take the elevator. Once we shut the door behind us, Gina practically threw Kendall on the bed and pulled off her panties. Then she went nuts over Kendall's shaved labia. She asked all sorts of questions about if it had hurt, did it itch, was it more sensitive, how much time did it take, etc. Unfortunately, Gina asked most of her questions while she was actually _fingering_ the pussy in question, so Kendall had a hard time answering. For the rest of the night, we licked, sucked, and fucked each other silly. When we finally got to sleep, we were all drained. Gina graciously insisted I sleep with Kendall. The bed was too narrow to sleep two people, but Kendall and I weren't interested in maintaining separation. With a very contented sigh, she pulled my arms around her, snuggled her ass against my semi-hard dick, and fell asleep. The next morning, I got up early and had to go to the bathroom. Not two seconds after I finished, the opposite door opened. Before I could scamper back to the safety of Kendall's room, I came face to face with a very sleepy redhead. She looked at me, her eyes going wide as she realized I was completely nude. Then she stammered an apology and shut the door. Kendall heard the door slam and immediately came to see what was the matter. When I told her about her suitemate, she shooed me back into her room, where I tactfully closed the bathroom door behind me. Then I began to worry. If her suitemate told the Resident Assistant that I was there--in violation of visitation hours-- Kendall could get in a lot of trouble. With barely concealed anxiety, I waited for her, gathering up my clothes and getting ready to make a run for it. When she returned, instead of being distraught, she was grinning. "Is everything okay?" I asked. She nodded. "Toni was just a little shocked, that's all." "She's not gonna get us in trouble, is she?" "No, but she asked about a million questions about _you_," she said, her grin widening. "Where did I meet you? Which fraternity are you in? Do you always walk around naked? Do you have a twin brother?" "Do I have a twin brother?!" "I think she liked you," she said, flowing into my arms. "But you're _mine_." While Gina was still asleep, Kendall and I made love quietly, slowly. When she came, she held me tight and buried her head in the hollow of my neck. A few moments later, I spurted inside her, holding her just as tight in return. Afterward, I enfolded her in my arms and we talked quietly. "Do you remember I told you I get bad cramps before my period?" she asked me, her voice soft, so as not to wake Gina. I nodded. "Before I left camp, I didn't cramp up. I didn't realize it until a couple of days later, but I didn't hurt at all. Sometimes, the cramps are really bad, but I've never had a period where I didn't get them at all." While I knew a little bit about how women's bodies worked, it was still a vast uncharted area for me, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded for her to continue. "I think it has to do with you," she whispered, grinning. "Me? How?" "Making love to me. Instead of having cramps before my period, I was having orgasms." "Oh. Cool." She nodded happily. Then she smiled and looked down shyly. "Even my body knows you're good for me," she said softly. "My body _definitely_ knows you're good for me," I replied, pressing my resurgent erection against her thigh. "So good," she sighed, rolling to her back and reaching for me. After we made love the second time, we lay together, quietly catching our breath and simply grinning at one another. Sooner than we wanted to, we got up, woke Gina, took our showers, and headed out to meet Kendall's parents. We went to a cafeteria-style restaurant in the basement of the University Center, Smokey's, and had a huge breakfast. Later that morning, Adam and Melissa made sure Kendall had everything she needed. Then, with only a moderately tearful goodbye, we boarded the Winnebago and left. ----- Since the beginning of school, I'd stopped by Coach Simmons' office twice, but each time, he'd been out. So when I did finally manage to make it to his office while he was there, he didn't recognize me. When he _did_ finally figure out who I was, his jaw dropped. "Scott Anderson told me you'd put on weight, but hell's bells, son, what'd you eat over the summer?" he asked. "A horse?" "No, sir," I replied with a grin. "But I worked out a lot." "_I'll_ say you did. How much d'you weigh?" "179." "D'you know about the new guy?" he asked. "Yes, sir. Scott told me about him. He also told me about you wanting me to move up to 185," I said. "I don't think I'll have any trouble making weight." His short bark of laughter was a welcome reply. Then he smiled and gestured to a chair. When I sat down, he told me about the new guy. Mike Gee and his family had moved from Dublin, Ohio, which was a suburb of Columbus. According to Coach Simmons, Mike was a superlative wrestler: smart, fast, tough, and strong. Then he looked at me appraisingly. "How much do you bench now, son?" he asked. "About 200, sir. Although I'm just guessing about that. I don't have a bench press bar at home, just dumbbells and a curling bar." "So you added a lot of muscle this summer," he mused, rubbing his jaw absently. Then he fixed me with a steely eye. "Do you really want to wrestle at 185? It's harder than what you're used to. Oh," he said, holding a hand up, "don't get me wrong, 167's no cakewalk. It's faster and there's more rolling around, but the real power, the real test of brains and brawn is at 185 and heavyweight. Are you serious about it?" "Yes, sir," I answered almost immediately. "Good. Mike and Doc have already started strength training, before regular practices begin." Doc Rivera, a senior, was our varsity heavyweight wrestler. His real name was Alonso, but his girlfriend was the only one who called him that. We all called him Doc because, strange as it seems, he was really into philosophy. And despite his size, he was a soft-spoken, gentle guy. He simply stood 6'4", weighed 240 pounds, and looked like a tank. A quiet tank, but a _very_ muscular one. "Are you interested?" Coach asked, breaking my reverie. "Yes, sir. Could Scott Anderson come too?" "I don't see why not. I'll see you in the weight room after school, then," he said. And so began my after-school strength training. Scott was more than happy to go to the workouts with me. We also talked our 155- pound wrestler, Sandy Victor, and several of the other guys into joining us. Gina and Shannon weren't exactly thrilled with the idea, but they knew how much wrestling meant to Scott and me. Besides, we told them, they had us the rest of the time. When I finally met the much-lauded Mike Gee, I was unimpressed. I guess I expected someone built like a Greek god, with the arrogance to match. Instead, he was shorter than me, wiry, and quiet. He had olive skin and dark hair, and his dark eyes were disturbingly piercing. But as I got to know him, he seemed all right. And as he got to know us, he slowly opened up. To my surprise, I discovered that what I thought was snobbishness on his part was actually an acute case of shyness. But all that shyness disappeared when he was on the wrestling mat. Even though practice hadn't officially started, we would occasionally roll out the mats and goof around. That's where I truly grew to appreciate Mike. He was like a mongoose, _quick_. And I mean Q-U-I-C-K. A couple of times, he put me on my back so fast I _still_ have no idea how he did it. And he seemed to have this sixth sense about what I was going to do next. While he wasn't as strong as me, he certainly wasn't a pushover. I could simply out-muscle him, but I usually got pinned in the process. By the time regular wrestling practice started, I'd actually grown to like Mike. He still didn't talk much, but he was an incredibly talented wrestler. He was a good teacher as well. Any time he beat me with a move I hadn't seen before, he almost immediately let go of me and showed me what he'd done, including the best counter-moves. I also think he liked wrestling me. I was quicker than most 185- pounders, but still a lot stronger than him. So he had to be careful not to let me use my strength against him. He also taught me to think about the match, four, five, six, or more moves ahead. I lost every single time we wrestled one another, but I _learned_ something each time, which was worth much more than winning. We also began our regular Saturday practices. All of the varsity wrestlers were there except for our 105-pounder, Donny Lester, who had to work. A bunch of the junior varsity guys joined us as well. I wasn't surprised when Coach turned over half of the practice to Mike, in order to have the quiet wrestler work with the lighter guys. Coach Simmons, however, always worked with the 185-pounders and heavyweights. There were only four of us, but he pushed us hard. In the weight room, I generally worked out with Doc and two other guys, our JV 185-pound and heavyweight wrestlers. Doc could lift a stupendous amount of weight, and he quietly drove me to lift more as well. I discovered that I could actually bench press more than 220 pounds. But that seemed a pittance when I realized that Doc maxed out at 350! I also realized that my summer spent jumping rope and jogging had paid off; I found that running was actually easier than the previous year. I'd never be a sprinter, but I didn't feel like puking whenever I finished a three-mile run. Mike didn't like to run much either (neither did Doc), so the three of us generally hung near the back of the group and talked while we ran. At first, talking was a major pain, and we were always gasping. Then Doc laconically told us that the ancient Greeks actually _sang_ as they marched into battle. And they did it wearing seventy pounds of bronze armor and carrying a hoplite shield. After that, our huffing and puffing conversations didn't seem so dire. In talking to Mike, I learned that his family had moved to our part of town for one and only one reason, Coach Simmons. Mike's father was an advertising executive, and when he'd gotten a job in Atlanta, Mike had been disappointed by the prospect of leaving his high school in Dublin. But as soon as he started looking at the wrestling programs here, he immediately wanted to attend my high school. "Why?" I asked him as we were cooling down from our run. "Coach," he said. "What about him?" "He wrestled at Nebraska." "So? I mean, I already knew that," I said with a shrug. "He was a two-time NCAA Division I national champion. Then, he was assistant coach for the U.S. Olympic team." "You're kidding me." He shook his head. "What weight class did he wrestle?" "Yours," Mike said with a slow grin. "185?" "190," he said, shrugging. "Same thing." "Holy shit." "Mmm hmm," he said. "He's good. Like, _really_ good." In the weeks that followed, I got to see what "really good" meant. Mike helped me with speed and technique, Doc helped me with strength training, and Coach simply demanded more and more from me. He also gave me all sorts of little pointers: before a take-down, watch the other guy's hips, not his shoulders; press the bone of your chin into the other guy when you're riding him (it _hurts_, and it breaks his concentration); tuck your thumb when you cross- face him, so you hit him with the hard bone of your hand, which _also_ hurts (not bad, but it's not a pleasant feeling); and many other things. For our first wrestling match, the first weekend in November, we again hosted an invitational tournament for several schools in the area. This time, there were two more schools than the year before, bringing the total to eight. Gina and Shannon were there, of course, as were our friends Kelly and Livy. In addition, Gina's new best friend, Heather Wellesley, was there. Heather and her family had moved from Scipio, Kansas. We all wondered what kind of goofy name Scipio was, but Heather was a really nice girl. Her older brother, Chuck, played on the football team. He was one of the few guys who made Doc look small. Like Chuck, Heather had light blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. But where Chuck was tall and massive, Heather was curvy, buxom, and very cute. She and Gina had naturally gravitated toward one another, since they were both new girls. In looks, they were opposites, but their personalities were so similar that it sometimes scared me. When the tournament started, I got to see Mike Gee wrestle-- competitively wrestle--for the first time. He was matched against a guy that had beaten me soundly the year before. In a word, Mike was _phenomenal_. I don't think the other guy knew what hit him. As I watched Mike effortlessly work the other guy--who was a very experienced wrestler--I was suddenly happy that I'd gained weight and gone up a weight class. If I'd stayed at 167, I would've been wrestling JV. By an incredible fluke of random scheduling and weight gain, my first match was against Emmett Carstairs (the arrogant prick). He had also moved up a weight class, and he looked as egotistical as ever. He remembered me from the year before, and practically sneered when we shook hands. I couldn't resist staring him down and squeezing his hand as hard as I could. "Save it for when I blow the whistle," the referee cautioned. I quickly released Emmett, but not before I got the satisfaction of seeing him cringe. When the whistle blew, I immediately locked up with him, hooking my right hand over the back of his neck and pulling him close. He did the same to me, and I gripped his right triceps with my left hand. In that position, our heads were very close. "I'm gonna pin you fast this year," he said. I didn't say anything. "Okay, fag boy, I'm gonna shoot a single," he said. "Are you ready for it?" Before he even finished speaking, he moved. His shoulders swiveled right, but I'd been watching his hips. Just as Coach predicted, Emmett went where his hips pointed. And they _didn't_ go right. As if in slow motion, I stepped to my right, opposite the direction he was moving. Then I let go of his arm as he started to drop. Like flowing water, I slid behind him and let him move past. With my left hand on his stomach, I kept him from dropping further. Then my right arm circled him and I pressed my chest against his back. When my hands locked, I pulled my arms tight, iron bands constricting around his midsection. Then I sank my hips, arched my back, and easily lifted him off his feet. I let my momentum carry me backward, twisting as I did. Emmett hit the mat with a resounding thud. I hit _him_ with a resounding whoosh. The entire maneuver had taken less than two seconds. After that, it was practically over. He struggled. He flailed. He tried everything he knew, but I was everywhere he wanted to be, _before_ he got there. As we say in the South, I was on him like white on rice. One minute and seventeen seconds into the first round, I hooked my arm behind his knee and inexorably pulled toward the other arm, which was around his neck. Then I clasped my hands, locking them together, and rocked him into a cradle. As an added precaution, I propped him up with my knee at the small of his back. Then I smoothly rolled his shoulders to the mat. The boom as the referee's hand slapped the mat--indicating I'd won with a pin--was the sweetest sound I'd heard all day. I sprang to my feet, arms shooting into the air. And then Coach's words echoed in my mind, "_Always_ help the other guy to his feet." I extended a hand to Emmett, but he contemptuously glared at me and got to his feet on his own. By the unwritten rules of good sportsmanship, he was forced to shake my hand, but he didn't do it with good grace. Then the ref turned us toward the gym bleachers, holding each of us by the wrist. As he lifted my arm into the air, I looked into the crowd, searching for Gina. She and Heather were with my parents. They were on their feet, clapping and cheering. Still panting, I felt my chest swell as the referee held my hand aloft for a few seconds. After the ref lowered my hand, I got Emmett's attention. "Good match, Emmett," I said, my chest still heaving. "I thought you had me when you caught my leg and tried to reverse." "Man, fuck off," he spat. "Son," the referee warned him, "you'd better _check_ that attitude." "Sure. Right, pops," Emmett said, stalking off. The referee and I shrugged and shook our heads in bewilderment. _That's the last time I try to be nice to Emmett Carstairs,_ I thought. _The arrogant prick._ ----- Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Nick Scipio. 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