Copyright© 2012 by jessicausiwanna
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sweet Amanda is as eager as any new high-schooler to explore her independence and get a taste of the things that have been out of her reach. She's a good kid, but has a mischievous streak and can get a little reckless in pursuits. Because of this curiosity seems to be getting her kitty into a lot of trouble. This is part one of her story.
The summer of my fourteenth year of life was filled with events that would turn my world upside down. None, however, were more influential than what happened on that first hot, lazy night at the end of May.
School was just getting out, and I was excited about the prospects of free time, going to the lake, and parties. At the moment, though, all I wanted was to be a lump on the couch for a couple days and enjoy some time doing nothing. It wasn't so much that I was over-exhausted. Maybe I just wanted to exercise my own growing independence by letting go of my responsibilities. I laughed to myself over the thought of that.
A little ironic, don't you think Amanda? I tried to disregard my own faulty rationale though, and got busy being lazy.
After all, I was a good student. I earned mostly A's and a few B's, and on the college prep track too. And I've been super busy with drama club since February, so I deserve this, I told myself.
I went to a Jr/Sr High combined school, the only one in our small town. Because of this, making the transition to being a freshman in high school looked as though it would be fairly seamless for me. I was more excited than concerned about it, and was even feeling pretty confident about my chances in making the Junior Varsity Volleyball team.
I had played in a rec. league for the last couple years and had started running over the last few months with my friend, Erika, to prepare myself for try outs. It was mostly just for fun, but I really got into it too. Girls who knew me were often surprised by my competitiveness out on the court.
In general, I think most people saw me as a sweet, fairly shy, petite girl who was involved in a lot of things, but not really a dynamic personality. I liked to think that my feisty side came out in my volleyball games, and judging from some of the looks I got, I was right. Drama and volleyball were good outlets for me in that way. When I was involved in them it seemed like I could show more of who I really was, and it felt good to do so.
It wasn't like I didn't get attention in other ways, though. Guys my age sometimes hit on me in their awkward ways, and I didn't shy away from it. I flirted at dances and social gathering, and had kissed a few guys over the last couple years. Even some older guys checked me out from time to time, including some of my brother's friends, even though I doubted any from that group would openly admit it in social settings. I loved both the attention that I got from boys and my growing experience with them, but I definitely wasn't very confident in that arena yet.
Maybe that'll change this summer. I pondered it for a moment. I was excited about my maturing self: my knowledge, my skills, my thought, my desires, my body. Looking down at myself as I lay there on the couch, I scanned over my body. My legs were bare and smooth, decidedly needing more of a tan, but I was pleased that they were looking more athletic and womanly than the girlish, lankly form that they had been for so long. I thought about what my little ass would look like in those tight volleyball shorts, and how much fun it might be to show it off a little in them.
Looking still, my eyes moved up to the front of my tank top. I frowned a little, staring at my breasts, hoping that by my own shear will they would start to grow. Any time you two are ready... I knew they fit me well though, and truly, I was happy with where they had progressed. Still, I was jealous of Erika's C-cups and how the eyes of any guy that was around her were magnetically drawn to her chest whenever she wore a tight shirt.
I was happy with who I was though, and I had plenty of good features. My eyes were probably my best. They were kind of a hazel greenish color and big and bright. I felt like I could capture people with them, which probably sounds ridiculous, but just the same. I've always had a very expressive face and use looks to be both silly and to effectively communicate without words.
My lips were also a big part of that. Not super full, but smooth and bright and made me have a really nice smile. They were just a little bit pouty too, which I had found that guys like. I was hoping they would see their share of action that summer in one way or another too, but I had no plans for such activity on that particular night.
My intent was to ignore all aspects of life, blissfully letting my Sunday night eke away, and dedicate my existence to watching movies.
"Amanda," my mom called from the kitchen just as I had flopped on the couch after dinner, "take your laundry in there and fold it, will you?"
Grrr... It seemed that no matter what plans I ever made, whether she knew them or not, she always had something else in mind for me. It drove me crazy. She wasn't bent on opposing me, but it sure felt like it at the time. She was just industrious. It probably had something to do with the difficulty of having to raise me and my two older brothers. By now she was almost fanatical in her efficiency.
"I'll do it in the morning!" I yelled back, not hiding my annoyance. I usually would have made sure to do it right away, wanting my things to be in order and unwrinkled. Perhaps I was more like my mom than I cared to admit, but I was not about to be deterred from my slothful pursuits for the evening.
I put on cherry Chapstick while I flipped through channels. We had a couple of newer movies that had come in the mail, but I wanted to explore my options. I hadn't seen "Wedding Crashers," which was one of them, so I figured I would end up watching it at some point that night.
After searching for nearly fifteen minutes I saw that a new one called "A Good Year" was on pay-per-view, starting in just a few minutes. I ordered it, which I knew my parents would give me crap for, but Russell Crowe, who I found to be rather delectable even though he was older, was in it and that made it worth the trouble. Since I had a few minutes, I went up to my room to get some polish to do my toes.
My older brother, Danny, was just heading out the door as I came back down the stairs. Probably going to go molest his whorish girlfriend. My other brother, Scott, had moved to Southern California the summer before to go to school. Danny was just graduating from high school and didn't have the same ambition Scott did. We were all curious to see what he would end up doing.
I shot him a feigned look of disgust as he was closing the door, but he just grinned knowingly as I did. I adored him and he knew it. I just wish he would wake up and get motivated to be more than the slacker he was right now. I looked up to him a lot, but knew he was capable of so much more.
His girlfriend, Erin Rhodes, seemed to fit with his directionality: simple and easy. I knew it was rude, but also true. I had heard them having sex in his room on more than one occasion. I had snooped and found one of their used condoms in his room one day during winter break. Overcome by curiosity, I examined it, and even tasted what was inside. The taboo nature of doing it only fueled my desire to do so, and I licked it several times and found enough to swallow a few drops. My first taste of cum, my own brother's. It had me jittery all that evening, and led to a series of fantasies as a result.
He would be out late. Probably partying. I wished he would take me out some time, but for tonight I was content with my plans. I flopped back on the couch just as the movie was about to start, Russell Crowe preparing to seduce me. I turned my phone off and kicked off my socks to do my nails.
My dad walked in after a couple minutes, and sat in the chair next to me.
"What's this?" he asked, try to understand what was going on as he inspected the screen.
""A Good Life, '" I informed I him. "Um, it's about, this investor, Russell Crowe, who ... well ... he's in England, but there's something about his uncle in France..." I trailed of as I heard him start to chuckle at me.
He obviously recognized that I couldn't tell him much more than who was in it.
"So what?" I shot back as an indirect counter to his mocking laughter, knowing that he had caught on to my true motivation for watching this particular movie. He responded with a big smile with softness in his eyes.
He was my hero, always there for me: coaching, advocating, defending. He doted on me till I would get embarrassed but I loved him for it. He was the balance I needed from my mom. I think he kept us both sane sometimes.
We sat in silence while we watched. I did my toes and looked over and caught him watching me a couple times. I smiled at his attention, but he pretended he hadn't been looking. I had my foot up on the edge of the couch while I painted, and I wondered if his gaze was on my feet or elsewhere. A few minutes later, he announced that he was going to take a shower and headed out of the room.
I sat there, bored as I watched. My mind drifted to friends, and the possibility of going to the lake since it was warming up. And then to Danny.
I wonder what he's doing right now. Playing drinking games? Maybe filling up another condom? Or maybe Erin's mouth?
That was an interesting thought. Her, suffocating on his boner in his car. I blinked and smirked to myself as I pondered it.
I wonder if she likes the taste of his cum. Did it always taste like it was when I tasted it? I remembered the bland, salty, stickiness of it. How it lingered in my mouth. I wonder what his dick is like...
My imagination continued to stray in this way, and was luring my focus away from the movie when when my dad walked back in. I had moved so I could splay out on the couch in the heat of the evening. I lay with my knees bent, and legs spread with one on the seat and one up on the back cushion. I looked up to see him standing near my feet, staring down at my center, observing my vulnerable position. My short cotton shorts were stretched taut against my mound and I had no doubt that there was enough gap in the legs to see up from where he was standing. I'm sure my undies would conceal me, at least in part, but I felt my cheeks flush nonetheless.
"Comfortable?" He seemed amused by my compromised position, not to mention my reaction to seeing him there.
"Yes, thank you," I said, trying to seem unphased. I struggled to keep myself from moving so as to not reveal my discomfort.
"Well, make some room for your old man so I don't have to crane my neck to watch," he said, and brushed my leg on off the back of the couch with ease. I was grateful to be less exposed as he moved to sit at my feet. As he sat down I glanced at his crotch and noticed the bulge under his thin flannel pajama pants. Did it just move???
I smiled to myself. My dirty little mind, always hard at work.
"And how is our friend Russell Crowe doing, my dear?" He loved to tease me any chance he got.
"He's learning how to be the good guy. Unfortunately, he's fixated on this up-tight French chick here, and is completely unaware of me," I sighed for effect.
He chuckled, "Don't you think he's a little old for you?"
"Dad. Seriously, I'm pretty sure he's not gonna come knocking on the door any time soon..."
Chuckling again, he said, "Well, I dunno. You're turning too many heads for my liking these days. I'm preparing myself to run one of those weasels outta the house with my shotgun one of these days."
"Oh, yeah, right," I said with a giggle. "And I'd be chasing behind yelling out, 'But daddy, I love him!!'" I added in my best melodramatic voice.
He laughed, grabbing and shaking my feet playfully. I kicked back at him to return the affection. He stayed holding my little feet in his big hands, caressing them gently as we fell silent and returned to watching the movie. I tried to focus on the story on the screen, but found myself paying a lot of attention to what he was doing as well.
We stayed that way until the end of the movie. I looked up at him and shrugged my indifference to how it turned out. "Wanna watch another one?" I offered.
"Sure," he said.
I hopped up and skipped over to the TV, bending at the waist to retrieve the movie and put it into the player. I knew full well that my little butt was facing him and on full display. I knew he would be staring at it and fought the urge to look over my shoulder to check. I wasn't self-controlled enough to keep myself from giving it a little wiggle before turning back around to return to him.
He was smiling as I sauntered back to the couch. "What's this?" he asked.
"I'm your daughter ... hello?"
He rolled his eyes. "And what movie would this be, daughter of mine... ?"
"'Wedding Crashers.' It's supposed to be pretty funny."
"What's it rated?" He had the nerve.
"Oh, it's a porno, dad." Two can play at this game, I thought to myself, "Ya, I really get into these." I said it with big eyes and an innocent look.
"Humph," he grunted. "I dunno if I deserved that much of a response. Lucky your mom didn't hear that."
"Ha-ha," I fake laughed melodically at his pout, and grabbed the remote to set it to play. I looked back over my shoulder at him on the couch. "Rub my shoulders??"
He laughed. "Oh, sure ... you must have had a real tough day." he mocked
I kept my mouth shut, just staring at him with what I hoped was a serious expression. I batted my eyes several times at him.
He chuckled again and said, "Come on over here."
I skipped the step over to him, twisted around and squatted all in one motion. I came to rest seated between his knees with my legs crossed on the floor in front of him. His hands felt so big and heavy as they lay down on my shoulders, covering each of them. His thumbs were strong but gentle as he kneaded my muscles between my shoulder blades. It instantly felt good.
He was a hard working man, skilled with his hands, and it showed. He exuded masculinity to me, and I drank it in, accidentally letting a little moan escape my lips as he worked on me. He snickered and squeezed me between his knees. "That good, huh?"
"Yes." I responded, unabashed.
We watched and he worked. He focused on my shoulders, but moved down my back, and then up over my neck, even stroking his fingers though my hair a little. I was putty in his hands; my form melding to the way he handled me. The comedy on the screen floated by me as I watched. This had become an intimate experience, much more so than I expected. I was numbed by his hands moving over my body. My heart rate quickened and thumped heavy in my chest. God, Amanda. Take it easy. It's just a massage.
At this point in the movie Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn were working their schemes to become crowd favorites at the weddings. I was able to break out of my zone enough to laugh along with my dad at their antics. And then they moved into the scenes where they were getting the girls. They were quick shots of first bridesmaids, and then guests were falling onto beds in various states of undress. Then full undress.
"Oh. It is a porno," my dad laughed.
I looked up at him as he watched intently. "Um, Dad? Try not to drool on me, ok?"
His eyes didn't leave the screen. "What? Your old man can't even enjoy a little female anatomy anymore?"
I giggled. "You're lucky my mom didn't hear that."
He looked down at me, pleased with my witty replay of his words. I smiled, stuck out my tongue at him and looked back at the screen.
"Humph. Why do they have to only show girls with big boobs?" I regretted opening myself up right after I said it.
"Gosh, ya. That's a real shame."
"Oh, whatever. You and the rest of the male species. So transfixed on big boobs!"
"Oh come on, sweetie. You don't have to compare yourself to that," he said sympathetically, but then taunted, "Besides, yours are coming on. I can look at them too, if it will make you feel better." And with that he quickly started to slide one of the straps of my tank top forward and off my shoulder. He craned his neck forward to look down my top.
"Hey!!!" I instinctively clutched at myself to impede his view. I was both shocked and amused, and I knew it was exactly the response he hoped for. "Humph." I feigned being upset, then cocked one eyebrow up looking at him daringly and mischievous. Being that I was only wearing two tank tops and not a bra, I wondered if he had actually gotten a glimpse.
I upped the ante, cupping my breasts individually, moving my hands up and down with them for effect. "Well, they are getting bigger, you know..."
He dared to look down again. "Yep, I've noticed as much."
"Ya?" I shot back immediately. I grinned beamingly at him, dropping my hands so that he was looking right at them.
He chuckled and looked away. "Like I said, I know how much attention you get. You don't have any problem with that."
I wanted to press his discomfort further, knowing that I had turned the tables, but all I could muster was, "Glad you like them," smiling to myself as I faced the movie. And I realized I was horny all over again. Wanting to push the envelope for the sheer rush of it. Knowing it was so naughty, and wanting to provoke it further.
I had to clear my head.
I went to the bathroom, not really needing to go, but just to get out of the room. It didn't help matters, and rather made me more aware of how my body had responded to everything I had been feeling. Even if I tried to deny to myself how I felt, the little wet spot in the middle of my underwear told a different story as I stared down at it while I sat on the toilet. There's the evidence, Amanda.