Chapter 7

As Summer wound on into new year in the Southern Hemisphere, the kids found more and more time to hang out down by the river. Justin had bought Angela a new swimsuit. They had gone shopping together and he'd insisted on checking out some of the ritzier boutiques. There she'd found the designer string thing that barely covered the illegal parts.

It was a swimsuit for the beach or riverbank, not for the water. It wouldn't last ten seconds in a river current or the surf. Justin enjoyed watching Angela parade around in it. She, in turn, liked Justin watching her also. She liked his smouldering sexy stare, it aroused her and made her feel possessed. She decided she liked the feeling.

For Angela, although only just 16, had never experienced such an intensity of emotion that she had with Justin. It was as if their egos had become completely merged. Normally her loss of emotional independence would create a claustrophobia. In this case, she had a feeling that somehow the heavenly bodies had all lined up for her benefit. It was not only meant to be, but inevitable.

Justin and Angela had found 'their' spot. One Friday night they had gone there to make love and had 'christened' the place. It was near a popular swimming spot where lots of kids from their school hung out. It was also well away from where they were likely to run into Chrissie Benmore.

Chrissie didn't like the big public places in any case. She also didn't care much for water. It suited Justin fine.

She also didn't like clothes that drew attention to her big boobs. She much preferred baggy shapeless tops that disguised her assets. Many a boy had been 'burned off' after talking to her chest.

Her only exception was Justin, it had always been Justin since she was a little girl. She liked his attention, although he could be a little 'inappropriate' at times. She enjoyed accompanying him, usually to the movies, and walking down the street holding hands. He took her to fancy restaurants using his own credit card. It made her feel special.

They talked on the phone every day. He'd normally call her because he could afford the bill. She'd ask his advice, on school, on life. They never discussed Angela, though she knew he was still seeing her. They'd tiptoe around the subject before drifting onto something safer. Chrissie knew they were 'meant to be.' He only needed time to work Angela out of his system. Time, she reluctantly gave him because it was only a drop in the bucket compared to the rest of their lives.

She continued to deceive her Mother. Sharon remained adamantly opposed to any relationship between her daughter and Justin. It went beyond mere disapproval of her choice in boyfriends. Her Mother made it clear Chrissie was to have nothing at all to do with Justin. 'Nothing' meant, to see, hear or speak his name. Her mother had even gone to the extent of seducing him practically under her nose. To prove, apparently, just what a slut he really was.

Her Mother's implacability, however, had only sharpened her desire for him. Although not naturally rebellious, nevertheless she relished the intrigue and the danger of her 'secret' affair.

She knew him like no-one else, not even Angela, nor her Mother. Of this she was certain. He was no slut, merely obliging. Women could get him to do anything they wanted. Over time, she reasoned, she would cure him of this trait. Then they would have a life of wealth and privilege, tennis clubs and afternoon soiree's. The cloth, though, always threaded with love.

Angela and Justin lay on their tummys sunbathing. He'd spread lotion on her, his fingers wandering to her disapproving look. It didn't, however, bother her too much. She played 'slip a nip.' Whispering, 'hey' she'd flip out her tit quickly while Justin grinned. He'd play, 'slip a tip' in return, poking the head of his dick out from under the elastic of his trunks. They pushed and poked each other giggling like naughty children. To Angela, the day was going to be perfect.

For tonight Angela was going to be allowed to stay with Justin all night. Her parents had reached the stage where they thought they could trust this charming young man. He hadn't broken their rules during the dating of their daughter, had always been polite to them and almost become one of the family. They were realistic about Angela having sex with Justin. They weren't going to stop her so they might as well trust them and ensure they were safe. They considered themselves 'modern' parents.

Angela had long prepared what she'd planned to take in her overnight bag. She was excited over this 'new ground.' They were to share his bed together all night, have breakfast in bed, shower together. But above all they could make love as often and as long as they wanted without any pressure of time. All with her parents blessing. She couldn't be happier.

As the sun waned they packed up and made their way back to the car. On the way to Justin's, Angela rested her hand contentedly on his thigh. Leaning towards him she placed her cheek on his shoulder until it grew uncomfortable. He smiled and tickled her between the legs.

Dinner had been prepared and was waiting for them in the warmer. They sat at the large dining table, thigh to thigh and kissing between mouthfulls. The tension rapidly built up between them and by mutual agreement, grabbed their hot chocolates and ran up the stairs.

Their first bout of love-making was fast and furious. Anticipation had grown throughout the day for this moment and Justin was unusually desperate. They were naked and rolling around the bed within seconds of crashing, giggling through the door. Angela was well-ready to receive him almost immediately and he was a lot faster and rougher than usual. To her surprise, Angela loved it and came quickly and powerfully. She looked him squarely in the face when she came, as Justin liked, and called his name. She was rewarded by his spasming cock, his grunting and growling during his release.

"Oh come baby," she wailed, "fill me!"

She'd discovered that Justin liked her to cry things like that to him as he came.

It was too perfect, she thought later as they cuddled and stroked. The only dark smudge in her life at the moment was Chrissie Benmore. She knew she'd have to deal with that 'problem' some time. But not yet, not tonight, she didn't want to spoil things.

Angela had that ability to ignore things she didn't want to have to deal with. Sometimes it worked and the issue faded. At other times the problem grew and threatened to overwhelm her. She was confident, however, that she always won out in the end.

She suspected for some time that Justin was seeing Chrissie on the side. There were too many clues for her to ignore. The Saturday nights that were 'his' time. He was always vague about what he did or where he went. Not so vague, however, was the gossip. His car had been seen here and there. Someone had seen him at the cinema with a girl that looked like Chrissie. They were holding hands, and so it went on.

It angered her when she heard such stories but she held her head up and told the informer she knew all about it. They were, she told them, just good friends who'd known each other since childhood. She let it slip that she thought Chrissie was gay anyway. Since no-one was aware of any of Chrissie's past boyfriends, the story caught on quickly. For the moment, her friends were satisfied with the explanation.

But Angela knew it was a lie. Her and Chrissie had been close friends once. Angela had moved away when she was ten, and Chrissie nine, as her family fortune increased and they could afford a nicer neighbourhood. She knew Chrissie had held a torch for Justin as a gawky kid.

She couldn't understand what Justin could see in Chrissie. Sure she had nice tits, but her arse was too large. Chrissie was 'nice', didn't date, was awkward around boys and made a fool of herself. She was shy and introverted. Angela couldn't accept that she was capable of pleasing Justin as well as she. Chrissie wasn't open, outgoing and anywhere as near sexy as her. As for her dress sense! It all didn't make sense!

In the early morning, Angela woke up beside Justin. He was sleeping peacefully and she listened to his measured breathing for a while. She was so in love with him it hurt. Yet although knowing every inch of his body, she'd yet to fathom his soul. There were little areas of his life which he'd cut her off from. At some level this increased her desire for him, but at another, it rankled.

She cuddled him possessively, kissed his nipple and played with his silky balls. Sighing, she rested her head in the crook of his arm and returned to sleep.

Chrissie stayed home that night. Her Mother was in a foul mood all day and was drinking heavily. Too heavily for her daughter's liking. She snapped at everything Chrissie said or did, slumped in her big arm chair and lit cigarette after cigarette until the whole lounge stank.

Chrissie hid in her room, read or wrote in her diary. She wanted to ring Justin but knew he'd be with Angela. She was miserable and jotted down her feelings page after page.

Tomorrow evening Justin was going to take her to a new movie at the Rialto. Her Saturdays with him had become the central thing in her life. She didn't know what she would do without that. Her mother had become distant and moody, her friends had drifted on to boyfriends and no longer had the time to spend with her. Fridays for her were always an ordeal.

Sometimes she'd place a pillow between her legs and finger herself with Justin's face in her mind's eye. Tonight, however, she was too depressed to bother. Chrissie became aware of a soft knocking at her door. She put away her diary and called to her mother to come in.

Sharon was tearful and wanted to talk. She apologised for being foul with her earlier and said that things had just got on top of her lately. She hadn't had a decent commission in weeks and money was getting tight.

"I guess I'm lonely too," she told Chrissie, "you know it won't be long before you'll move away and then what?"

"You look great mum, when you go to the trouble," Chrissie told her, "there's lots of nice men out there..."

"Oh no there's not!" she snapped, "and what would you know?"

Chrissie slumped in silence. Her mother put her arm around her and again apologised.

"They're either too old and desperate. Or too young and desperate!" she explained, "the nice ones are snapped up well before I hit the scene. Who's going to look at the milk when they can skim the cream?"

"Mum!" Chrissie protested.

"Oh it's true, Chrissie. I'm no longer a player in the market and I don't want to join a ballroom dancing club," she grinned ruefully. "Look I even steal your dream guy from under your nose. I'm sorry about that, love, but you needed to know what an arsehole he really is."

Chrissie boiled with the urge to defend Justin, but thought better of it. 'Methinks she protest too much' she heard ringing through her mind.

"Your father was the same," Sharon went on, "they're not family men, you see. That's what you need, someone who'll stay around and not... not fuck anything... that's..." her Mother subsided.

Chrissie had adored her father. He'd left the house when she was just 13. At the back of her mind she knew it was all because of her. Her mother had not been able to deal with the close relationship her and her father'd had. That, she felt, was the real reason for the separation but she couldn't tell her mother.

There were some things that were never discussed in the household. This was the longest conversation she'd had with her mother about her dad since before he left.

"... That boy's no good, no good at all..." her mother rambled on, "Jus' like Frank he is. Charm, beauty, sexuality and such wonderful, wonderful hands..." she sighed, "could be his son... spitting image..."

"He's not!" Chrissie couldn't contain herself, "his father is, is..."

"Yes, I know! Some bloody hippie," she told her, "No, Frank wouldn't be so careless as to leave his progeny lying about. Far too careful... Still, got the same hands as Frank..." she mumbled.

Chrissie felt pangs of jealousy flick through her body. She didn't need reminding of that morning when she'd found her mother in bed with 'her' Justin.

"Nice dick too..." her mother went on, "... making that Angela happy I bet..."

"Mum!" this was becoming too much for Chrissie.

"So how are you and, whatever-his-name-is getting on?" her mother asked her.

"Who?"

"Whoever you've been sneaking off with on Saturday nights?"

"Um..." Chrissie hedged, thinking.

"You've been sleeping with him, haven't you? You know, you should always wash your own underwear if you want to keep secrets."

"Mum, I..."