Junior - Cover

Junior

Copyright© 2007 by Fable

Chapter 1: Summer of 1991

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Summer of 1991 - Junior is the continuation of Burr, Dominoes, College and Sophomore. Shirley is out of his life and he's floundering, trying to pick up the pieces. If you haven't read the previous books, do so. If you have you'll be rooting for Sammy to pick up the 'pieces.' Junior covers Sammy's third year at Pontiac College, but first he spends the summer of 1991 in Atlanta where he meets and becomes 'very' involved with new friends.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Slow  

Although I had been there twice before, I paid more attention to Holly's neighborhood this time because it was going to be my home for the entire summer. The houses were of different style and, while up-scale and well kept, they were built very close together.

The taxi driver carried my one piece of luggage and golf clubs to the breezeway door. I thanked him with a tip and waited until he was out of sight before picking up the flower pot to retrieve the key to the door. It wasn't there. "Shit!"

"Mr. Oldham?"

I turned to see a lady on the other side of the short fence that separated the two lots.

"Holly wanted me to give you this." The glare from the bright sunlight on her bleached blond hair made me almost miss the key she was holding up for me.

"Oh, good," I said as I walked toward her.

"I'm Sandy Santeria." The quiver of her parted lips reminded me of a frightened rabbit as she dropped the key in my hand.

"Thank you, Mrs. Santeria."

"Please, just call me Sandy," she said, as she turned toward her front door.

I stood there, watching her walk away, hoping the short fence would hide my hard-on. Sandy Santeria was in her early forties and all woman. She wore her bleached hair long, her neckline low and her shorts cut very high.

"Call me Sammy," I yelled and watched her smile, timidly as she disappeared into her house. For someone who had to know she was sexy, Mrs. Santeria seemed very uncertain of herself.

It was a quarter past eleven on Saturday morning, the eighth of June, when I let myself into Holly's house. After storing my clubs in the breezeway and my bag in one of the spare bedrooms, I found the controls for the air conditioner, opened the drapes at the rear of the house and went to the kitchen where I was sure a note would be waiting.

Sammy,

Welcome to my home. You couldn't imagine how sorry I am that I can't be here to 'make sure' you have a pleasant stay.

As you know, Beulah comes on Monday and Friday mornings. She will clean on Monday and do laundry on Friday. She doesn't cook so you will be on your own for meals. You'll find a good supply of staples in the kitchen, but you'll need to stock the fridge, breadbox and fruit bowl.

The pool boy comes on Thursday afternoon and the gardener's day is Friday, unless it rains, so you may see him on Saturday. I don't know their names as the company hardly ever sends the same person. The security company lets all the help in, makes sure the house is secure and the back gate is locked.

My neighbor to the East is Mrs. Sandra Santeria and to the West it is a crotchety old gentleman named Smyth. Except for Smyth, everyone knows you're going to be my guest for the summer.

Have fun, Sammy.

Love,

Holly

P.S. The house is still on the market. Dianna also knows you're going to be here.

I peeked in the refrigerator and discovered that other than a good supply of soft drinks, it was empty. The air conditioner was still working hard to rid the house of stuffiness so I decided to go shopping.

Except for a few extra miles on the odometer and different upholstery, driving Holly's car felt exactly like mine. On the other hand, shopping was completely different from what I was used to in Pontiac. The supermarket was huge and crowded. I found the essentials, fruit, bread, milk, juice, snacks and meat, but forgot to pick up fresh vegetables.

Back at the house, I called home to let Suzanne know I had arrived safely and, after a makeshift lunch of half a cantaloupe, filled with cottage cheese, I lay back on a lounger next to the pool.

There were others to notify that I had arrived in town, Neill, Patti and Cassie. There would be emails to answer from Marcie and possibly Shirley, but for now all I wanted to do was to relax and reflect on the week past.

'No strings, ' meant something entirely different to me than it meant to Tammy. After her shocking me by asking if she could sleep with me on Friday night and agreeing to 'no strings' I fully expected to get up the next morning and deliver her and her luggage to the train station. Not Tammy, she decided to stay another day. This surprised Charlie as much as it did me.

I tried to talk to her while we were having breakfast. "Tammy, I'm going to work this afternoon and I need to study for exams tomorrow. Charlie does too. Isn't your family expecting you to arrive tomorrow?" I asked, hoping she would understand how tight my schedule was.

Tammy's answer was to sit on my lap and whisper in my ear.

"I'll call home and tell them something came up. There's another train tomorrow."

What 'came up' was my cock. Tammy felt it and wiggled her ass to make sure it stayed that way. I smiled apologetically at Charlie, picked her up and carried her back to my bedroom, hating myself for giving in.

"No strings, okay? I asked as I stripped her T-shirt off and reached for her panties.

It was the triumphant smile that crossed her face when she said, "No strings, no regrets," that made me order her to get on her hands and knees. Tammy loved my demands and hurried to comply with them.

Maybe it was the way Shirley had turned on me before she left or maybe not wanting to be alone. It might have been the praise I received from Tammy every time I fucked her. She was just what I needed to temporally take my mind off of Shirley's departure.

Tammy knew my exams were important and was never a distraction. She was obedient, followed orders and was appreciative; what more could one want? She stayed until the following Thursday morning.

As we said goodbye at the train station, I wished her well and she told me for the sixteenth time how much she had enjoyed our few nights together. "You're incredible, Sammy. I've never experienced anything like that before."

I must have fallen asleep on the lounger because the next thing I knew I was awakened by a cloud casting a shadow as it passed overhead. I jumped into the pool to clear my head and was greeted by a gruff voice as I climbed out.

"Who are you?"

I looked around and saw a pair of eyes peering over the fence. "I'm Sammy Oldham, Sir. I'm borrowing the house for the summer. You must be Mr. Smyth."

There was no answer and the eyes disappeared. I shook my head and went inside, wondering if he had to stand on something to look over the fence.

After living in a small apartment with three others for the past nine months, it was a welcome change to be on my own in a luxurious house. I took advantage of the solitude to relax and waited until the next afternoon to answer email and let Neill and Patti know I would be at work in the morning.

A few minutes after I talked to Neill, the phone rang. Cassie greeted me sounding excited. She wanted to tell me about her summer soccer season. She was playing with the big girls and the schedule sounded grueling; they played three or four games each week and practiced on off days. I promised to come to at least one game each week and she said she would send me a copy of the schedule. "Put it on your refrigerator so you don't forget," she said.

There were two upbeat emails from Marcie, one from Brenda, but nothing from Shirley. She hadn't exactly promised to keep in touch. I reminded myself to face the facts; we really were over.

The next morning I forgot how early construction people get started in the morning and arrived a few minutes late. "Just for that you have to stay late," Patti kidded me. It was good to see her in high spirits. She briefed me on the progress; the steel was in place and concrete was being poured.

Neill showed me around the site and we went over the construction schedule. "We'll be closing in the sides soon and then the fun begins," he said.

The best part about starting early is that you get off early too. I went back to Holly's house and sent an email to the home office, advising Mr. Oldham, Tom, Donna and Wanda what I had witnessed that day. Within minutes Wanda sent a reply, asking that I get a handle on expenses. She complained that the Atlanta office was dragging its feet.

My job, as it evolved, was that of a glorified errand boy. Nine out of ten emails I received were requests for follow-up on something that should have taken place a week before. The tenth message was usually from Mr. Oldham, praising me for a job well done. I reported for work early, stayed late, acted as a go-between and tried to please everyone.

The only drawback to my summer was living alone. I hated cooking for myself. On nights when I attended Cassie's soccer matches there was an open invitation to dine with the Fenton family. Otherwise, I usually stopped at a small family restaurant for my evening meal. Then I would go the house, check my email, run, jump in the pool, and go to bed early.

Attending Cassie's soccer game was my only amusement for the first week. She introduced me to her teammates, which was a real treat. They were very athletic, some were kind of plain, but most were real babes. For a thirteen-year-old, Cassie was very perceptive. She pointed out which ones had boyfriends, which ones liked other girls and which ones liked both boys and girls.

"Ginger asked me if you are my boyfriend," Cassie whispered one night after a match. Neill and Doris were in the front, Claudia never came with us so Cassie and I had the backseat to ourselves.

"Which one is Ginger?" I asked in a normal voice, seeing no reason to whisper.

"Aren't you going to ask what I said?" she asked, not trying to hide her angst from her parents or me.

"What did you say?"

"I told her you're twenty, way too old for me. Ginger has short dark hair."

"They all have short dark hair." This was far from true. Many of the girls were blond and wore their hair in a ponytail while on the soccer field.

"Ginger has really short hair. It's cut like a boy. She usually plays center midfield."

"Really short and plays center midfield. Now I know which one she is. Why would she think I'm your boyfriend?"

My question got Doris's attention. She turned in her seat and I felt her eyes on me as I waited for her daughter's answer. Cassie's eyes darted to her mother before hesitantly answering my question.

"I think she likes you," she said, making her mother smile and turn toward the front of the car.

"Oh," I said, wanting to drop the subject. If I wasn't mistaken, Ginger was one of the girls who Cassie had described as liking both boys and girls.

Seeing Doris's reaction to the mere suggestion that I could be her daughter's boyfriend made me decide to squelch that idea. I spoke loud enough for her parents to hear me explain to Cassie that I had just ended a relationship and had no plans to even date anyone new. "Besides, I'm no longer a teenager. Ginger's only seventeen, isn't she?"

Neill spoke up; hinting that he had seen sparks between Patti and me. I attempted to dispel that assertion, claiming Patti and I needed to concentrate on our jobs, that it was too soon to become involved and that I was only here for the summer. While weak, my reasons for not hooking up with Patti were met with approval from Doris. She chided her husband for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

"Will you run with me on Saturday?" Cassie asked.

"Sure, what time?" I agreed, relieved that we were changing the subject. I was no longer Neill's errand boy, I was Mr. Oldham's errand boy this summer, but we worked together and I didn't want Cassie's parents to think I had designs on their daughter. They had enough to worry about with their older daughter. Claudia was eighteen and trying desperately to prove that she was an adult, while only succeeding in irritating her parents.

"Ten?"

I should have known there was more to it. Cassie could have found a running partner among her teammates. In fact, she did. "I just happened to mention we would be running this morning," Cassie confessed when we saw almost all her teammates, the ones that liked boys and the ones that liked both sexes, stretching in preparation to join us.

"Don't you have practice later today?" I asked.

"Not until three o'clock," Cassie answered.

The girls ran three or four abreast with Cassie and me bringing up the rear. After twenty yards she peeled off and I was joined by one of the pony-tailed blonds. I soon saw a pattern; the blond asked three questions, mainly about college, and fell back to be replaced by another ponytail, who asked three questions. I had to listen closely because all the girls had Georgia accents, which I found charming, but some of the words they used were difficult to understand.

The track was one mile long and it took three laps for all members of the team to ask the three question limit. When it became Ginger's turn her first question was about college life and then she plowed into new territory. "Do you think my hair is too short for blowjobs?"

She was so serious that I didn't dare laugh. "I think your hair is just right. I like short hair," I said, wondering if that was the answer she wanted to hear. It was.

"Some guys want to pull your hair. I don't like to have my hair pulled and that's the reason I cut it short; not because it makes me look like a boy."

"You don't look like a boy. I thought it was because you play soccer and long hair can slow a soccer player down."

"I just wanted you to know why I wear it short."

"Come on, Gin, that's four questions," we heard from another ponytail, who was trying to crowd Ginger out of the way. Ginger fell back and I answered two more college questions before the third question took me by surprise.

"Was she giving you that crap about why she has her hair cut short?"

"I didn't think it was crap. It sounded reasonable to me."

Ponytail scoffed, "She doesn't do blowjobs. Ask my brother. He'll tell you she doesn't put out, either."

After all the girls had had their turn we ran another lap, just to lend credence to the morning workout. Cassie joined me.

"Are you angry at me?"

"No, why should I be?"

"I had to arrange it. They ganged up on me. I'm still the kid here. You understand, don't you?"

I laughed and put my hand on her shoulder for a second. "I understand. Would you like me to say something to them to show that we're just buddies?"

"NO! Don't say anything."

"Okay."

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