She got off the bus at the first stop after the Dryden Motel sign. Battling jangled nerves the young brunette fought the urge to look around to see if she'd been followed. Acting as normal as she could, she walked right to the MacDonalds Restaurant and went in. There was nothing wrong with a 15-year-old doing that, after all.

Knowing that did little to make Robin feel better. Sitting where she could see the street outside through the big windows helped. It helped that she did not see the aqua SUV her mother drove. Only after finishing the burger, fries and shake without seeing it or anything else suspicious, the teenager feel secure enough to leave the fast food shop and walk back up the concrete sidewalk to the motel.

The room, she was glad to discover, was around back. Her heart pounded heavily under her left breast as she looked at the palm of her hand, the number 22 written there in blue ink. She would have to remember to wash that off before her mom came home, just like she wrote the note to school in something close to her mother's handwriting and erased the school's phone message asking about Robin's tardiness. There was only one other thing to give her away, and there would be no hiding that. Robin knocked at the door.

There was no turning back now, unless the guy behind the door was butt-ugly. If he was a total jerk she would want to get away, too, she knew. Unfortunately if that were the case he probably wouldn't let her go. In that case, she had already decided, the young brunette would simply go along with him, and hope for the best. It's not like she was here to enjoy herself.

The 15-year-old just kept reminding herself she was here only to spite her mother. The argument had been a month ago now, but the hurt remained, and Robin refused to be ashamed. She and Danny hadn't even done anything. Sure she knew she wasn't supposed to bring a boy in the house when her mother wasn't there. And yes, she knew she was wrong to let him talk her into taking her shorts off. All they were doing was kissing for krise-sake.

How was she to know her mom was coming home early from work? Anyways, the names the woman called her, the swearing, yelling and screaming and the slap across the face was so much worse than anything Robin might have. At that moment the teenage girl vowed that she would never call the woman "mother" again. She also knew she would get back at her so bad that it would break her spirit when she found out.

The opening door startled the young brunette out of her reverie. The man's good looks were a relief. He might be collage age, she guessed, assuming he was even in school at all. When he called her by name the last doubts washed away like ebbing surf. Robin was all smiles when she stepped into the room.

She watched him close and lock the door behind her. They faced each other for an awkward moment, his smile at least telling her she was safe and welcome.

"Are you nervous?" he asked in a steady voice as he stepped closer to her.

Robin nodded. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Well, I have," the man assured her, "I brought something to help you with that." His hand motioned toward the desk, where two bottles of wine and two glasses sat, waiting.

Robin rolled her eyes. She was really in trouble now. How much did he think she would need, anyway? He uncorked one bottle and poured, introducing himself as Jim. He toasted to carnal pleasure, holding her free hand as they sipped the wine. The feel of his hand in hers was exciting, making her chest tingle and her face blush.

"Don't worry about anything. I'm a professional," Jim said, stroking the girl's bare arm. Robin wondered what kind of "professional" he could be. It wasn't like she was paying him. An older guy's brag, she supposed, to impress her -- as if she needed impressing. She had asked for this meeting herself.

The young teen wasn't sure exactly how it all came about. She only told her best friends of how she hated her mother and wanted to get back at her for what she did and said to her that day, and ever since. Then this girl she hardly knew, an eighth-grader, took her aside. She said she was a friend of a friend's sister or something, and heard how mad she was at her mom. Then she asked exactly how she wanted to "get even."

Robin didn't have to think about it. The argument was about being alone with a guy and acting like a slut. If having sex with a guy was what the woman didn't want her daughter to do, then Robin wanted to have sex with a guy. This older girl said she knew someone who could help her with that. Did Robin want to talk with him?

It took only a couple of days. The eighth-grader wanted to ask the guy first. If he was okay with it then she would give Robin his phone number. It took the 15-year-old several days to work up the courage. After the very next spate of harsh words between Robin and her mother, the young brunette dialed the number.

Jim agreed, told her to call the next morning for directions. Now here she was, standing next to a strange man, letting him touch her as she drank his wine.

"What do you say we start with a kiss," Jim said after putting their empty cups aside and holding her by the waist. Robin nodded hesitantly, determined yet afraid, then waited for his face to bend to hers.

Her head went fuzzy when their lips met. Her knees threatened to give out, and her stomach felt like helium was being pumped into it. Instinctively she pushed away from the man.

"Change your mind?" he asked.

"No, I -- I just need to sit down." Robin sat on the bed wondering why she balked. The kiss felt good. Too good, she decided. She needed to catch her breath, or next time she would faint dead away. And there would be a next time, she told herself. "Can I have another wine?"

"Of course, babe. What ever it takes." His hand was on her cheek now, showing gentleness, then he poured more wine. "Why don't we try something else."

"'Kay. It was a really good kiss. It almost knocked me down. I never been kissed on the lips by a guy before."

"Never? You need to catch up, girl."

"Yeah, but my mom," Robin wanted to retract the last word and substitute 'bitch, ' but it was already out. "She won't even let me talk with boys."

"So, what do you want to end up doing today?" Jim asked, sipping from his plastic cup. "I mean, how far do you want to go? Do you just want to do it, or do you want to try all the other stuff too, like oral or whatever?"

Robin shrugged her bare shoulders. "I don't know, all of it I guess."

"Do you want to screw then get me off, or do you want me to use a condom and come inside you?"

After a moment of thought the 15-year-old said, "Inside me, and no condom thingie." That's how it had to be, totally wrong and dangerous. Yes, a man's cum right in her cunny would completely freak her mother out.

"It may hurt, you know."

The girl made a face over that unwelcome prospect. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. It didn't matter. She looked up at Jim, now sitting in a chair nearby, with a look more defiant than brave.

"I don't care. Do it anyways, okay? Even if I cry or anything. Promise?"

Jim smiled a humorless grin, and promised. "Let's get you warmed up. Ever imagine you are doing a striptease?"

The brunette nodded, smiling at the memory of those times when she wore low riders to school. Mr. Jackson never filed to look at her belly when she did. How often had Robin entertained herself with thoughts of him staring at her as she wrote on the board, sucking her stomach in to let the pants slip lower and lower, or sitting at her desk in a skirt with her knees apart? She wished she had worn a skirt or dress today.

Instead, Robin had dressed for the weather. It was warm and sunny. She wore shorts, and a knit, short waisted tank top. To impress her lover she went without panties or bra. 'The woman she lived with was too busy to notice. Blue sneakers completed her outfit, and dressed like that any strip show she performed would be short indeed. The idea interested her none-the-less.

Robin stood up at the bedside, adjusted her shorts waist lower on her hips and began telling Jim about her school teacher. As she spoke she sauntered around over the carpet, acting her fantasy out for him. The man's gaze was steady on her, his smile appreciative, and the brunette's body warmed to the suggestion. She found her arousal growing despite being watched.

The trace of her fingers along the edges of her top as she coaxed the material upward made her nipples harden, clearly visible through the garment. Her skin tingled where they touched her shoulders when she pushed the straps from them. With only her A-cup breasts holding the top up made the young teen feel exposed, and naughty.

Robin inched her shorts down, rolled the elastic to reveal her groins and hips. Turning, she showed Jim the effect it made on her rear. A swipe of her hand along the top of her shorts now told the 15-year-old that he could see her ass-crack. It made her nervous to expose herself this way, but if she couldn't even show her fanny to this stranger, she would never get far enough to do what needed to be done to spite her mother.

Ignoring the goose-flesh breaking out over her skin, the brunette teenager pushed the elastic of her shorts a bit farther down in front. She turned, feeling faint as she faced Jim again. When she dared look at him again his eyes were aimed at the fringe of pussy hair escaping from the fabric. The effect of knowing a man stared at her down there was a tingling in her loins, and moisture gathering between her labia. She could feel it, and moved her legs to make the folded flesh glide together.

This trick she also learned in Mr. Jackson's class. Thinking of him looking at her never failed to make her vaginal juices flow. Moving her thighs agitated her sensitive clitoris enough to get Robin very excited. She did this now, again pacing the motel room, Jim's eyes on her. She began a slow dance, less to imitate a strip tease than to arouse herself.

And it was working. Suddenly Robin wanted to be naked for the man. Unsteady hands rose to her top. Unsure of how best to begin taking the garment off, the young teen cupped her hands around her breasts, squeezing them as she sometimes did while in the darkness of her bedroom. The familiar glowing welled within her, and she closed her eyes. Swaying her hips in wide arcs accentuated the stimulation of her tingling labia and throbbing clit.

"Do you masturbate?" The man's voice reminded the girl she was not alone.

She nodded without opening her eyes. It was just what her body wanted right then, and the brunette lowered one hand to the front of her shorts to demonstrate. The touch of fingers over her mons electrified the teen, even through the material. Robin knew how much better it would feel if her fingers pulled at the lust dampened flesh of her pussy directly, and reached right into her shorts.

She had only stroked her cooze for a few wonderful seconds when Jim told her to take the shorts right off. She complied, and removed her top off as well. Her hands returned to where they had been, squeezing her breasts and pulling at her slick gash, showing him how it was done not four feet from his face.

"You are hot," he said, "And ready. I can smell that you are ready." The brunette teenager nodded, digging two fingertips into her depression of her vulva in anticipation of bigger things to come. Jim stood. Reaching for the tit she was not massaging at the moment, he fondled it gently. The girl gasped when he pinched her nipple, but did not draw away. "Are you hungry?"

Robin nodded. The man stepped back and she watched him undress. Her head swelled like a balloon. Her naked body quivered as his muscular, tanned body emerged from his clothing. His erection was evident long before she saw it in the flesh. Its size frightened the 15-year-old, but did not dissuade her. Jim sat again.

"Kneel down, honey. Have you ever sucked a cock before?" He stroked his as she shook her head full of brown hair. The patch below her belly was sparse and light, but of the same color. "Come closer. Smell it. Do you think you might like to try?"

The teen nodded with a self-conscious grin, looking the man in the eyes. He wagged the hardon under her nose, giving her permission to try. Robin brought her hand up, curling her fingers around the organ's girth, and kissed it tentatively. The hot, hard thing didn't bite, so the youngster guided the bulbous head over one cheek, across her chin to the other and then back to her lips. Her tongue snaked from between them, tasting the skin, following its crest all the way around to the slit in the end.

Moisture had seeped from it. The droplet had a peculiar odor, pungent but indescribable. It tasted salty, a flavor Robin liked, so she pursed her lips and sucked at the slit in Jim's cock. Only another drop of flavor teased her tongue. The teen opened her lips enough to slide them over the throbbing gland of warm flesh and began sucking it as she might a lolly pop. Jim's fingers combed through her thick hair appreciatively.

"Take it deeper," he said after a few minutes of intense pleasure. The young brunette took more of his penis between her lips. Her mouth opened wide and her head pressed down over his straining erection. "That's it, honey. Now move up and down. Yeah, like that. Mmm, your mouth feels great on my cock. Do you like sucking cock, baby? Your mother would be furious if she knew. She would call you such a slut."

Soon the young man was fucking at the girl's eager mouth as if he wanted to fill it with his jizz. Indeed he did, at that moment, but both he and the teenager wanted more. And there was so much more to do. He eased the bobbing head from his dick, bent to place a kiss on the no longer shy lips and told Robin to sit on the bed.

"Lie back," he said, kneeling at her feet now. He spread her knees with his hands and stroked the glistening gash between her thighs with his fingers. When the girl's legs widened by themselves, Jim lowered his head between them. The inexperienced teenage girl twitched violently when his tongue first ran up the length of her labial furrow. Both giggled at her reaction before the man resumed lapping at her pussy.

Jim worked his fingers in tandem with his mouth, poking and nudging as he licked and nibbled at the 15-year-old's pussy. Prying her labia apart with thumbs, he flicked his tongue along her private crease. It found her vulva and dipped in for a taste of her vaginal secretion. From there it traveled forward over her pee hole, between the petals of her dainty inner lips and up under the bud of her clitoris. Here he curled the tip of his tongue so it nudged the swelling nub several times before closing his lips over it and sucking it gently.