Holding the Fort - Cover

Holding the Fort

Copyright© 2005 by HedbangerSA

Part 1

Erotica Sex Story: Part 1 - Russell is stuck at home for Halloween and is having a bad day until fate gives him the surprise of his dreams. But is it a treat, or a trick?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Halloween  

My social life was at a new low, skipping right past desperate and plunging firmly into pathetic. I was a senior in high school and was supposed to be having the time of my life-everyone else seemed to be. Halloween is one of the big party nights of the year; guys at school had been talking about it for weeks. Even my kid sister Becky got invited to a sleepover with a bunch of her dumb friends. She was fourteen and she dated more than I did.

I'm the editor of the school newspaper and I had to stay late that afternoon to be sure we got the next issue out on time. The lead story was about a bunch of my classmates who were going on this great trip to Europe over Christmas break. Girls and guys, and there were only going to be a couple of teachers along as chaperones. One of the guys told me that he was going to fuck his way across the Continent. I didn't put that part in the article.

It was mainly the rich, popular kids who were going. Girls like Shelly Peterson and Molly Benjamin. God, they were hot. Molly had these really big tits and she almost never wore a bra. But the hottest one of all was Justine. Justine Wilson was, like, the pinnacle of hot. She was a cheerleader and she always had at least three guys hanging around her, all athletes. She was beautiful, with lips like Angelina Jolie and the most gorgeous blue eyes that made your brain stop working and your mouth get really dry so you stammered when you tried to talk to her.

It wasn't always that way. I went to middle school with Justine, and in the sixth grade we were almost friends, kind of. We were in geography class together and she sat behind me and asked me questions sometimes. Once she even walked with me to our next class. She was the most popular girl in the school even then. She had boobs before any of the other girls and she wore her jeans really tight so you could see her little round butt jiggle when she walked.

The first time I got a woody at school was because of Justine. She leaned forward and whispered something to me in geography class and she had perfume on. Her hair was blonde and thick and it smelled terrific as it brushed my arm.

Then Mr. Glenn called on me and asked me to come up and show the class where Puerto Rico was on the freaking map. I stood up and took a couple of steps before I realized that my pants were all tented out. Mr. Glenn saw it and asked me if I wanted to go to the bathroom to 'take care of things.' Justine didn't talk to me much after that.

Anyway, when I got home that Halloween my folks were rushing around, wearing goofy costumes my dad rented at some store. He was Prince Charming and I think my mom was supposed to be Snow White... or maybe it was the Sleeping Beauty. My dad said they got a last minute invitation to a party some guy at work was having, and that they'd be out late.

"What about me?"

"There's plenty of food in the freezer, Russell, and you can have all the soda you want," my mom said.

Russell is my name, by the way.

"Oh, and you'll have to hold the fort here, Russ. You know how to run everything and the candy is by the door. Don't eat it all yourself!" my dad said.

My dad was, like, this lunatic about Halloween. He decorated the front of our house for a solid week. We had a fake cemetery out front with a couple of zombies who looked like they were climbing out of their graves. He put up these plywood forms on the house that made it look like the Addams Family lived here. There were strobe lights and sound effects and flying bats... the whole nine yards. I couldn't believe he was going out on Halloween night, but he was up for a promotion and his boss was going to be at the party.

"Dad! What if I had somewhere to go?"

"Do you?"

"Well, no... but..."

"Good, it's settled then. Don't let the kids take more than two pieces of candy or you'll run out. Oh, and don't leave the sound effects on after ten or the Grunwalds will complain again."

"We'd better go, we don't want to be late," my mom said. "You be good, Russell."

And then they were gone. Of course I was going to be good. When wasn't I? Good old Russell Benton, the kid who always got good grades and practically ran the youth group at church and made sure the school paper got published and never disappointed anyone. And who had never dated a girl more than twice or touched one of them anyplace fun. Oh, I was going to have a big old time. Home alone swilling down root beer and Mountain Dew, and maybe I'd even let a few kids take three pieces of candy just to be wild and crazy.

I microwaved a frozen pizza and watched TV until it was almost dark. Then I turned on all the scary lights and the fog machine and the sound effects. I went out front to be sure it was loud enough, and I had to admit that the place looked cool.

My dad left his Halloween costume on my bed. It was the Scream outfit he wore every year, and it wasn't one of those cheap ones either. This one looked real, and I'd always wanted to wear it. Maybe the evening wouldn't be so bad, scaring the crap out of a bunch of snotty kids.

For a couple of hours I handed out candy to scores of little Spidermen and Spongebobs and ballerinas. I policed the candy like dad said because I was afraid the kids would egg our house if I ran out. By about nine-thirty it started to slow down and I could get a little studying done between arrivals.

The later groups were mainly older kids in their regular clothes, probably focused equally on candy and random vandalism. I brought some of the more fragile decorations into the house and turned off the sound effects and lights, getting ready to quit for the night. I saw a group coming up our walk, a half-dozen or so big trick-or-treaters, and decided that they would be the last. I still had a quarter of a bowl of candy, so plenty would be left over for me to eat while I waited for my parents to return.

As the group got closer, I recognized them. Just my damned luck, it was the "in" crowd from school. Trent Randall and three of his jock buddies along with Molly Benjamin, Shelly Peterson and girl I didn't know very well, Katrina something-or-other. I prayed that they didn't know I lived here and wouldn't guess that it was me in the costume.

"Trick or treat?" Trent deadpanned as I opened the door. He looked at the bowl in my hands and grimaced. "That all you got? We're pretty hungry."

He looked at the rest of the group and rolled his eyes. The other guys snickered. I held the bowl out and kept my mouth shut. Trent took half a step toward me and staggered a little, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. Christ, he was drunk!

"Hey, I said we're hungry!" he said, blustering for his audience. "We like to eat pussy. You got any pussy in there?" He made a show of looking over my shoulder and then laughed at his own joke. I didn't know what to do so I just stood there like a dork with my stupid bowl of candy.

The other guys were laughing too, but it was a forced, tense laughter. Macho assholes getting ready to prove how tough they were, daring me to react. A long five seconds passed with me wondering if I could shut the door and lock it quickly enough.

"Don't be a dick, Trent," Molly said finally. "Just take the fucking candy and let's go. I want to find some more beer."

Trent frowned, then broke into a grin. Molly had broken the tension and it was tough to ignore her. Her big tits were practically spilling out of a tight shirt that also left her whole stomach showing.

"I guess this will do," Trent said, pulling the bowl from my hands. He dumped it into the pillowcase he was carrying, then tossed it into the bushes. The guys started laughing again but I didn't care because they were leaving, following Molly and Shelly toward the street. Katrina waited until the others were out of earshot, then smiled at me and shrugged.

"Sorry. Nice decorations," she said, waving an arm at my yard. I nodded, and she ran to catch up with her friends. She was nice, but that didn't stop her from hanging out with a butthead like Trent.

At least they didn't recognize me, so I wouldn't have to live down another embarrassing story at school. I pulled the candy bowl out of the bushes and studied the remaining decorations, trying to remember which ones my dad brought in at night. The evening was quiet, with almost no moon, and it was a little chilly for October in Florida. The stars were really intense, so I stood and studied them for a while. My Halloween had been a disaster, but at least it wasn't boring. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

I heard a noise to my left, someone on my driveway and I jumped thinking it was Trent and his gang back for more. But it was just one person, smaller, a woman. She walked forward hesitantly, into the light from our front window. It was Justine Wilson.

"Hi. I didn't mean to scare you. Mr. Benton, right?"

I stared at her, not knowing what to say. She thought I was my dad, which meant she knew this was my house. How could she? Justine didn't know I was alive. She looked shorter than usual, less confident. Her long hair hung almost to her waist, cascading over a short-sleeved cashmere sweater. Five inches of tummy showed over her trademark tight, below-the-hip jeans. She waited for an answer, looking nervous.

"Anyway, I was wondering," she began. "Did you see my friends come by here earlier? Four guys and three girls?"

I nodded, then looked down at my bowl. "Nothing left, they got all of it."

Justine frowned. "They've been doing that. Scared a lady over on Belmont. I..." She paused, squinting at me. "Wait, are you Russell?"

Busted. Home on Halloween in a goofy costume. She'd tell the others and they'd have a big laugh over it. I pulled my mask off.

Justine smiled, but not a mean smile, and she took a step closer.

"Am I glad to see you. I was pretty sure this was your house."

"Trent and the others were here about five minutes ago, they went that way," I said, pointing and realizing I still had skeleton gloves on. I pulled them off and stuffed them and my mask into the candy bowl.

"Oh, I was trying to catch up to them..." she said, sounding discouraged. The light was a little better now, and she looked pale. Kind of washed out.

"Are you... okay, Justine?" It felt weird saying her name.

"Not really. We were drinking and it hit me kind of funny. That lady on Belmont let me use her bathroom. I'd have stayed there but she was nervous about it because of Trent being a creep. Anyway, they left me. Some friends, huh?"

I nodded, afraid to say anything because my mouth was so dry. Justine, talking to me! I was glad I had the robe on, because my dick was like an iron girder. I was pretty sure what I'd be doing as soon as she left.

"Listen, Russell." She glanced toward my house. "Would it be okay if I stayed here for a while?"

"Here?" My voice squeaked a little.

"Just until I feel better. Then I could call my mom and she'd come get me," Justine said, pleading.

"What about... the others?"

"Screw them. They're probably going to get arrested or something."

"Well then, sure!"

She smiled, and then followed me inside. I stopped in the foyer, feeling awkward. Justine looked around.

"This is nice."

I nodded, knowing she was just being polite. She lived in a huge house over by the country club.

"Could I use your bathroom?" she asked, looking a little unsteady.

"Sure, right over here. There are towels and stuff..." I said, pointing at the half bath off our family room.

After she went in I stood outside, listening to the sounds she made moving around the bathroom. I was alone in a house with Justine Wilson! She wasn't feeling well and didn't look her best but, hey, Justine at her worst was still, like, off the scale of amazing. It didn't sound like she was really sick, at least I didn't hear any hurling or anything.

I walked into the family room, worried she'd come out and catch me listening. The place was messy so I ran around straightening up, and carried my dinner dishes to the kitchen. I dug around in the cabinet where Mom kept the medicine, grabbing some Alka-Seltzer and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. I filled a glass with ice water and carried everything back to the family room to wait for her.

I sat on the couch trying to look casual, then decided to take off my Scream robe. My hard-on was almost gone and I didn't want to look like some kind of freak. After another minute, I heard the bathroom door open.

Justine still looked shaky, but her hair was combed and she'd washed her face. It was still a little damp and she had some color back in her cheeks.

"Here, sit down," I said, jumping up. I was afraid she'd change her mind and leave right away. She sat, then saw the stuff I brought and picked up the Alka-Seltzer.

"How sweet of you, Russell. This looks pretty good." She opened the box. "Are your parents here?"

"No! They went to some costume party. And my sister's at a sleepover," I blurted, talking too fast. Way to go, I thought. Why don't you just tell her she's alone with a loser who's dying to go somewhere and jack off thinking about her?

I sat on the other side of the couch and watched her rip open the foil package. The motion made her boobs jiggle under her sweater. As she waited for the tablets to fizz I noticed that she had a ruby pin in her navel, with three little silver chains dangling down across the really creamy-looking skin on her lower abdomen. My boner came back with a vengeance and I started to wish I'd left the robe on.

Justine tipped her head back to drink the Alka-Seltzer. Her hair pooled on the back of the couch, and her slim neck pulsed as she swallowed. As she finished she glanced over and caught me staring. She smiled.

"Thanks. I really needed that." She looked around the room, then saw my books spread out on the coffee table. "You were studying?"

"No! I mean, well, a little..." I said, wishing I'd put the books away. She already thought I was a nerd. Justine picked up my calculus book.

"I should have been studying tonight," she said. "We have a test on Friday. You?"

I nodded, shocked. Somehow it seemed weird to think of her studying, or caring about it anyway.

"This is really tough, all that product and quotient rule stuff," she said, flipping the pages.

I swallowed hard. "It's not that bad."

"For you, you're really smart."

"You're smart too, Justine. You always got good grades, back..." I stopped myself, about to say in middle school. I felt my face redden.

"Back when I paid attention?" she asked, then grinned. "It's okay, I know what you meant." She handed me the calculus book.

"Okay, smart guy. Explain the quotient rule to me."

"You're serious?"

She nodded. I wiped my palms on my jeans and took the book.

"Okay, but you have to pay attention," I said.

For the next hour I taught her. I finished quotient rules in fifteen minutes but she kept asking questions so we studied the last couple of chapters, too. As we worked, Justine slid closer to me until our shoulders were touching and her hair was brushing my arm. When she leaned forward the V-neck of her sweater gaped open, revealing the firm swell of her right breast.

My dick was so hard it felt like the skin was going to split, and every so often some pre-cum oozed into my briefs. I kept praying it wouldn't seep through my jeans. I covered myself with the book most of the time, and Justine didn't seem to notice.

When I finished I closed the book but kept it in my lap. I needed to stall before she called her mom. For that I'd have to get up and show her where the phone was.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked.

"Much better. And now I feel good about the calculus test. I wish old man Robinson could teach as well as you."

She looked terrific. The paleness gone, her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. All of a sudden she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

"Thanks. For everything," she said, whispering.

My breath caught and my heart was pounding like it was trying to crawl up my throat.

"Um, you know, I could give you a ride home, Justine," I stammered. "So you don't have to call your mom."

"That would be nice," she replied, then took the calculus book and returned it to the coffee table. Our shoulders were still touching, and now her denim-clad thigh was pressed hard against mine. It had to be an accident, but still...

"It's still pretty early. I don't have to leave yet, unless..."

"No! I'm fine." I said, trying to will my heart back where it belonged. Shit! Stalling wasn't going to cut it, my cock was throbbing and my cheek was on fire where she kissed me.

"Remember when we were kids, Russell? In sixth grade, Mr. Glenn's class?"

I nodded, feeling sweat run down my temples.

"How come you stopped talking to me?" she asked. "I kind of liked you."

"But I didn't... It was because..." I stopped, looking at her. "You did?"

She nodded. I hadn't noticed before how her lips had little crinkles in them, the lower one all plump and rounded, above a perfect chin. Justine leaned a little closer and I felt like I was going to come.

"That time in class, when you had to stand up and, well... was that because of me?"

I swallowed again. "Yeah."

"I always kind of wondered. Cool."

Her eyes were six inches from mine, and I could feel her breath in little puffs against my cheek. Then it happened. Her hand crept over and cradled my erect cock, squeezing softly.

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing completely. All my senses were focused on her slender fingers, caressing, stroking. Then she leaned in and kissed me again, this time on the lips. Her eyes stayed open, staring into mine.

"You can touch me too, Russell. If you want to."

My cock was twitching, about ready to blow my load into my shorts. My hand came out of my lap, by itself like in that movie, Dr. Strangelove, and moved slowly to Justine's right breast. My palm pressed against her and I felt the firm, soft skin moving under her bra and sweater as I squeezed. After a moment I could feel her nipple too, and the other one was poking out through her sweater.

"Ohhhh, Jeez..." I leaned forward a little as I came, trying to stay upright while my muscles convulsed and my brain froze for a moment. God, how embarrassing...

"Did you come?" she asked, waiting until my eyes focused again. "It's okay. The next one will last longer."

"Next one?" I asked, cheeks burning. I had ruined everything.

"Are your parents going to be home soon?"

"No, probably not until late."

"Cool. I bet we can get you up again in no time," Justine whispered, then pulled her sweater over her head. She was wearing a lacy pink bra with demi-cups that pressed her tits together. Every square inch of her skin was flawless, firm and smooth and lightly tanned. I looked at her, thinking that all this had to be some kind of trick-or-treat thing. That Trent and the others would break in soon, and everyone would laugh at me.

But the look in her eyes was gentle and sincere, and she was breathing a little faster now. She reached back and unhooked her bra, then let it slide from her shoulders. Her breasts didn't need any support. They were full and upturned, with large pink areolas just a shade darker than the surrounding skin. I'd seen tits on the Internet but never anything this beautiful-they were perfect.

Justine looked at me and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"I've never touched a real boob before. Well, not a naked one," I said. I'd never touched one with clothes on it either, up until a minute earlier.

"Well, these are real. And they're naked. So touch away, they won't break."

So I did, cupping the right one again and letting my fingertips slide over her erect nipple. God, it was heaven. Her tit felt even better than it looked. How could something so firm feel so soft and heavy in my hand? I grabbed the other one and started to massage both.

"Does that hurt?" I'd heard that girls could be sensitive there.

"Mmmm. No. Feels good. You could even squeeze a little harder."

Justine leaned her head back on the couch, then reached for my dick. She'd been right about getting me up again, I was rock hard. She rubbed the shaft with her fingers and stroked the head with the thumb. My briefs were drenched with come from the first time so the fabric slid over me with almost no friction.

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