Chapter 18

Krys was only a little snarky when I saw her. "So, how many notches did you cut in your bedpost?"

"I didn't keep count. Had fun riding horses, though." I showed her the picture. "That's Renée and Terri. We did a bunch of trail riding."

"Any ... you know?"

I shook my head. "All three of us like boys."

She nodded. "Mom asked me if I wanted to go. I think I'm a one-man girl."

"Nothing wrong with that," I said. "I did miss Eric."

She gave me a level look. "There's hope for you yet, little sister."

There were a lot of ways I could have taken that, so I decided to be an adult and not ignore the implications. Instead I smiled vaguely and changed the subject. Sure, I'd get married, and right now Eric was a prime candidate, but I'd always want to swing. It got in your blood.

Terri, Renée and I had talked about it one day while riding. "We're all sluts," Terri said, "at least in the traditional sense. But I don't feel it's wrong."

"That's because I think there are different kinds of sluts," Renée said. "We do it, not because of low self-esteem, which is what most people think is going on, but because we enjoy it. I love sex, and that's all there is to it. I don't go from guy to guy in an attempt to make me feel better, but because when I get "up", one guy isn't enough."

"Just don't tell guys that," I laughed. "I agree with you, though. I'm the same way."

"Me three," Terri added.

"What I don't like," I said, "is the implication that a girl can't enjoy sex. Or if you do, and you admit it, that there's something wrong with you."

"Instead we have to keep up the Double-Standard. I think it's because sex leads to babies, and a "true" woman only does it out of duty, and to make the next generation."

"Effective birth control has changed everything," Terri said. "It's just that society is way behind on the whole subject."

Still, society being what it was, I showed pictures of us horseback riding, Mom and me riding the roller coaster at Circus Circus, and so on. Some of the girls at school didn't think you could have a good time on any sort of vacation with your parents, but I couldn't tell them what I'd really been up to.

"I take it there was more," Robin said. "I've heard about something that happens twice a year in Vegas."

"Imagine our parties, but with a couple of hundred people." I showed her a picture of one of the people who worked there carrying a large plastic trash bag. "That's filled with used condoms."

"Oh." She pursed her lips, her eyes wide. "Wow."

"Yeah. I think they took two out a day, or maybe three."

"Oh. My." She fluttered her hand, getting a little air about her face. "Sounds fun."

"It was."

Mrs. Busy-body from CPS got the G-Rated version of the trip. Even she couldn't object too much to the picture of the three of us girls on horseback. She seemed to believe that groups of girls reinforce morality. We did, but it was the morality suitable for that time and place.

"You didn't get much of a tan," she said, examining my arm.

"With my skin? I burn, I don't tan. Terri is an ash-blonde from Minnesota, and she's much the same way. We did our riding in the morning before the sun really got going."

She nodded. "And your parents were there?"

"All of the time. Well, except when we went horseback riding. Mom does, Dad doesn't."

She lost interest. Certainly there was nothing scandalous going on there.

The important thing, though, was hooking up with Eric again. I saw him before school, and practically glued myself to him. "I missed you," I told him. "It would have been a better trip with you along."

"What was it like?"

"I'll tell you later."

He nodded slightly. That told him all sorts of things, but not in a way that people could overhear. Swinging, I'd learned, teaches you many things about yourself, not the least being the ability to parse the truth very finely. Above all, though, you learn to watch what you say.

As I was leaving school for the day Eric offered me a ride home. I was in his car in a flash. And when we got to his place we want up to his room right away.

"Amber?" his mother asked as she opened his bedroom door. "Were you planning on ... oh. S'cuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt."

I was kneeling in front of her son, taking his hard dick between my boobs, and licking the tip when it got far enough up. The nice thing about having a swinger mother is she isn't embarrassed by discovering her son and his girlfriend having sex.

"I'll call your Mom and say you're staying for dinner." She pointedly closed the door while Eric and I laughed about it. Then we went back to what we were doing.

Right away I felt a welcome change. Oh, doing it with someone you really like is special because you're doing something together, but we were back to "normal" and didn't use a condom. Now some guys don't believe me, but a girl can tell the difference between a dick sheathed in latex, and one that is "natural". It feels slightly rougher, and there's more friction. That doesn't explain all of it. Let's just say you can feel the difference, and leave it at that.

We did all of the usual things of a couple getting reacquainted. The exciting part wasn't the climax, though that was good as I really needed it with him, but that we were together. I think I practically came just from that. I loved holding him, though, at his moment, and the way he tenderly kissed me afterwards. I felt back at home.

Dinner was a little awkward at first. His younger sister was present. Karen had just turned 14, and she was at that stage where she has decided opinions about everything, including her older brother's girlfriend. She was too young to take part in our parties, and Eric's Mom wasn't sure she would. That meant things were a little cool between her and this girl across the table from her who she knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt, had been having sex with her brother only a few minutes before.

Fortunately I hit on something almost all girls can get interested in. "This one casino had this display of the shoes worn by Hollywood stars," I said. "There were these other two girls I'd met, and we entered a drawing, and won seats at a fashion shoot."

Karen's eyes lit up. Gambling didn't interest her, and I'm not sure she approved of me as Eric's girlfriend. But a fashion shoot? And a shoe collection? That was a whole different thing.

"It was 'Vogue' magazine," I added, laying it on just a bit thick. I'd seen copies in her room. "We had to stay quiet and back a bit, but I think we spent three hours there watching the girls model and show off." I shook my head. "It's a lot harder than it looks on TV."

That brought her round. I figured she was a big fan of Tyra Banks and "America's Next Top Model", and I was right. She spent the rest of dinner quizzing me closely about what the models had worn, their hair, their make-up, and anything else I could tell her. Eric's Mom had a few questions, too, and what could have been a disastrous supper turned into a rousing success, at least as far as the girls were concerned.

After all of this Eric had to drive me home. I hadn't done any of the assigned reading I'd been given, and we did have appearances to keep up. I couldn't swear I saw a CPS car watching us, but I'm sure they were there; it's better to assume you're being watched.

The big homework problem I had was that old fall-back English teachers have when they don't have anything planned: what did you do on your Spring Break. Fortunately everyone knew we'd gone to Vegas. I could wax eloquent about that, and not tell everyone that I'd spent most of the time naked, having wild and uninhibited sex several times each day. That essay, and I'd write it, would be saved for the kids I partied with. Instead I repeated what I'd said at Eric's. Of course then I had to write the damned thing, which was more work.