Chapter 5

Summer arrived and, at just an inch shy of five foot, I looked forward to some time to myself. My time with Treyvon and Kevin had been good until it wasn’t. What made me sad was how their lack of concern, or maybe focused concern on only what they could pour into me, ended what I thought had been a wonderful thing. I was kind of angry but mostly just felt sad. Every time I thought of what had happened turned my stomach sour and made me hide in my room.

Sour is a good word for it. Thoughts of any kind of future relationship of any sort felt sour in my mind. I should have learned well enough from Gary. Kevin and Treyvon’s double dose of impersonal sex reminded me of how it was to keep one’s heart safe even while opening the thighs to new possibilities.

No, I didn’t blame all guys or think all guys were shit. I knew girls who thought they had wonderful boyfriends and there seemed to be no end to the guys who dropped hints about wanting to take me out. Nice guys, my age, just wanting to talk and go to a movie and hang out. Nice, right?

Depends. I was sort of ruined by all my time with Kevin and Treyvon. Having sex with a guy seemed a normal thing. Treyvon and the many others that day of the barbeque just kind of went way over the line and I called them on it. Point for me, right? But that didn’t mean I understood what the fuck was going on in the teen dating scene. I’d never really dated guys in high school. Heard about dates from other girls, but it seemed kind of silly compared to what Kevin and Treyvon and I would do every week.

So, I tried dating. All through the summer I met up with girls I knew from school, getting to know their older brothers and guys I’d known in a few of my classes. Movies to museums, fast food to any sit-down place a high school guy or young college kid could afford. Talk, joke around, then make out in the car.

Without Kevin or Treyvon in my life I found it interesting to see what other guys, younger guys, were like. It was nice to hold another person, and given my limited experience with guys, it wasn’t unreasonable for the guy to want to feel up and even suck my tits. That felt good, and guys quickly found that it wasn’t difficult on a second date to spend extra time in his car or, if life was really good, to invite me into his home and check out the sound system he’d rigged up in his bedroom.

You know the rest. Guys followed a lot of the same steps in getting what they wanted. A date would kiss my neck, move down to my breasts, whisper how much he liked me, and then pull my hand over to feel his dick. I’d often start a suck on my own, but it wasn’t unusual for that to turn into a full-on fuck.

Sucking a guy was okay, and unlike most girls I really didn’t mind getting to know a guy’s dick at face level. Problem was always selfish guys who’d shove it in deep, and mouth jobs didn’t get me anything other than bad breath.

Fucking was different. A fuck, like naked bodies moving together, even without an orgasm, gave me some sense of connection. I desperately wanted intimacy, a connection with a boy, but I was totally unlike other girls in that I feared it at the same time. That’s why I developed a special relationship with just a few boys and a couple of newly graduated young men. I craved the sex, even fantasized about the physical joining of bodies, but I shied away from anything that might have tied me to them in any way other than in bed. Any of the boys I really liked all made good use of my body but I enjoyed theirs as well. None of those early high school dates were nearly as good as a Kevin or Treyvon, but they were nice to experience nonetheless.

Due to our ages and living with parents, there was more back-seat action than bedroom fun, and over the summer and well into the fall I dated about a half-dozen guys. I can still picture each and remember the voices and vices of each one of them even when I can’t quite remember their names. Weird that I can even remember the type of car each of them drove and the smell of the vinyl as I was being bent over the back seat and the feel of their different beds when we had the house to ourselves. It was the sensory experience that turned me on.

That’s how it was well into July, and though the high school guys were okay, there was something missing. I hated to admit it, but I was missing the kind of loving I had received from Kevin and Treyvon. Debauched and ravenous and filled with the lust and demands only grown men have developed and come to impose on women and girls alike? Maybe, or maybe the high school guys were too easily pleased with twenty minutes of sucking and fucking and cuming, all followed by a trip to some fast food place.

Girls like me were come onto all the time. We girls would talk and giggle and complain about all the grown men doing creepy things on the street or in stores, but it was seen as a fact of life. Yet some guys were seen as worth getting some attention from, like older guys in college or working at low paying jobs but more interested in spending their earnings on having fun with girls than in saving for retirement.

So while trying to figure out how to be a girl in high school, I just happened to get caught up with a reminder of just what young men were like.

I’d been at a friend’s house doing nothing in the heat of a summer afternoon when her brother and a friend of his returned home. The guys were much older, maybe early 20s or so, and we mostly stayed separate and doing our own things. The parents asked me to stay for dinner and afterwards we all wound up in the back yard while the parents watched something in the house. It was nice hanging with the handsome young men, made more fun when the guys started making comments about the online video of lingerie models showing off their wares. Slightly scandalous and a bit of a turn on but mostly harmless fun, both girls and guys making commentary about the very well developed and scantily dressed women at some public show in Paris.

Mostly fun, and then I had to go home. The friend of the brother’s just happened to be leaving at the same time and offered me a ride. Given my experience with young men in my most recent past, I wasn’t surprised when the guy parked under a dark tree just past my house and leaned over to kiss me.

I wasn’t so into the kiss, but the feel of his hand on my thigh felt good. It felt good, but I also had the brains to know I had plenty to fear and leaned away from my unexpected suitor. Yet when his fingers went further, slipping deep into the depths of my upper thighs, I put my hand on the man’s head and pulled it down for his mouth to be even with my chest. Yes, dangerous, but after dating a few high school guys, I thought it might be interesting to reacquaint myself with older men.

Really didn’t think anything would go beyond some heavy hand work, maybe a suck and a blow at the most. I was surprised when he got out of the car, helped me out of my side, and then invited me into the back seat. It was late and dark and nobody was around, but it was still odd. I hesitated, he pushed me into the back seat, and while I was thinking of what to do, the guy pulled my ass back, my feet still on the pavement, and somehow slipped his dick past the edge of my panties. Lifting my ass up, my face pressed into the back seat, my very unwelcome suitor began a hard and fast and very deep fuck of my twat.

He was only able to hold my ass and hips up for a couple of minutes, finally laying down on my back and giving me a good standard fuck from behind, his body literally crushing mine into the upholstery. Ended as you might expect, the man’s liquid lust pouring into me, his fingers never bothering to find my clit until the last minute, leaving me wet and horny and unfulfilled while having become the receptacle for his masculine essence.

There was the kiss, the comment about me being the hottest pussy he’d ever fucked, and finally a desire to see me again soon. I told him maybe and rushed to return home only a half-hour past curfew. My parents scowled, my sister rolled her eyes, and all my mind could think of was whether or not they were aware of the wafting scent of semen as it soaked into my panties and marinated in my twat.

I could have called him, started another affair with some older guy, maybe even him and that brother. But from my experience with him and Kevin and Treyvon and the rest of their gang, I really didn’t think it was a loving relationship he was interested in. Which was fine. Neither was I, or at least I didn’t think so at the time. My dates with the high school guys really weren’t expected to go beyond friendship and the exploration of the maturing teen body. Guys just wanted sex, someplace warm and soft and willing to suck up their dicks and store a few ounces of their semen every morning and night. That kept them happy. Which again was fine.

But while the teenaged zit faced pubescent kids felt me up and tried desperately to get into my panties, they really were simply clueless and searching for something they hardly knew the name of. They were assholes, but clueless about why or how they were being assholes.

The older guys, the young men like Kevin or the guy who just pumped me full of sperm in the back seat of his car, knew full well what they were doing. They were assholes, fully cognizant assholes, and they really didn’t give a flying shit about being assholes as long as they ended the night with their balls a quart low and with the knowledge that some girl out in the night was keeping a good hundred million of their sperm warm for the next week or so.

That’s why I never called the young man. He must have said something because my friend did ask if I had ever thought of dating him, but I shook my head and laughed. After all I’d been through the previous year, and given what her brother’s friend had demonstrated that night, I was happy just having fun with stupid and clueless high school guys. Clueless but probably far less dangerous to my body and spirit.

For a while, like all through August, I actually tried my best to go out on dates every weekend night and many days. Many boys, a lot of experimenting, and usually always ending in ways I was far too familiar with.

In my mind, I was having the time of my life. I really thought I had it all figured out, boys and sex and intimacy and life and everything. Avoiding the older guys, the more dangerous predators of our parks and malls, I thought I could live life and have more fun than the average teenage virgin.

Thing is, I also know I was desperate to hide the emptiness inside of me. I was totally aware of it, of the hollowness within my soul, but I didn’t know what to do about that. An orgasm was something I could work toward, but enlightenment seemed so far away as to be farcical. Everything was dulled, even the taste of food or my connection to my family. I’d smile and nod throughout the day but feel nothing.

Two things got to me. Intimacy, kissing and words of love, filled me with fear, my gut knowing the other person was just a lying dirtbag. I trusted nobody and no one. Sex, on the other hand, was real, as real as anything could get for a teenager, and it filled my personal needs perfectly. That was one thing a guy couldn’t lie about and I was happy to give the lie test to any boy with a car and more than an hour to spare.

As school started up, rumors quickly started to circulate about me and girls came up and asked wide-eyed if I’d really done it with this guy in that way. I was smart enough to roll my slit eyes and say we never went that far. The possible shame of being known as the school slut slowed me down but didn’t stop me from sitting on a guy’s lap in his back seat or visiting a classmate over the weekend. I was in a groove and didn’t see any reason to stop.

Like with Treyvon and Kevin, I didn’t pull my knees together until one guy went way too far. I mean, this high school jerk even made the assault on me by the older guy in his car seem totally tame. This last guy was a handsome senior I’d gotten to know in my math class. He convinced me to go to a late afternoon movie with him, then some fast food, and instead of taking me home he talked me into an evening walk through a nearby nature preserve.

Short story made shorter, I found myself being crushed into the grass, my suitor tying my arms up with my sweater while limiting my use of legs just by pulling my jeans down. If he had asked nicely and followed some basic rules of human behavior there’s no doubt the guy would have had a homerun on his hands. I expected that, but his overt need for violence and control ruined it all.

I was kept tied up for an hour at least. He made use of my helplessness in a half-dozen ways. Once he’d exhausted his lust, he untied me and offered to take me home. I of course rounded on him and cursed him, and he was genuinely surprised. From all the stories the guys had shared with one another, he was sure I’d have no objections. So why tie me up and do all those other unmentionable things to me? For the fun of it. He thought it would be fun. Asshole.

I didn’t mind the sex with the mindless high school guys and men. Even enjoyed it with most of them, but the crass mentality of the literal dicks I was surrounded by ruined it all. Sex for the sake of sex was fine, even the times when the guy couldn’t keep it up longer than a minute or even when my date talked me into doing it with him and a friend at the same time. As long as I was an equal partner in the nasty crime of a guy blowing his balls inside me, I was happy to play the games and stay out well past my curfew.

Sadly, the guys, like this last guy, started doing stupid shit and I finally pulled back and closed myself off. I became more numb, more uncaring, and chose to ignore the nasty jabs thrown at me by girls and boys alike. No more high school dates for me. As winter set in, I came to be known as frigid or a tease, the hot little Chinese girl who everybody knew could fuck up a storm but had no serious interest in guys. A rumor even started up that I was a lesbian.

I don’t think that’s why Deanna approached me and made an offer I really should have rejected. I was just finishing up lunch in a near-empty cafeteria while some girls a couple of seats down started loudly whispering about the good and bad of giving head. I stayed out of it but my ears picked it all up, my face obviously giving off signs of how I felt concerning guys, dicks, cum, swallowing, and everything in between.

I finally got up to leave for my next class but found the instigator of the discussion following me. She cornered me outside and got right to the point.

“Seems like you know something about blowing guys,” she said, looking around to see if anyone else was within earshot.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to stay noncommittal. “I guess we’ve all done it, you know, on dates and stuff.”

“You swallow?” she asked, getting to the top of every guy’s wish list, “Or do you just lick and a hand job and pull away at the last second?”

Without thinking, or caring what she thought all that much, I rolled my eyes and said, “Yeah, I swallow. Otherwise it gets over everything. Ever try washing it out of your hair? Not worth it.”

I thought of Kevin and Treyvon and how much they openly appreciated my growing skill at sucking them off and swallowing the result, so I finished my short speech saying, “And guys love it when a girl swallows, like even better than real sex.”

“You slut!” whispered Deanna, giving my shoulder a soft push. “Didn’t think you Asian types ever swallowed. I’m impressed. But do you, I mean, have you ever gone all the way? You know, like...”

“I know. Yeah, but I don’t make a habit of it. Guys are jerks.”

The bell rang, I turned for class, and Deanna stopped me, handing me a piece of paper.

“Here’s my number. Call me tonight. Really want to talk to you some more.”

I was a little pissed at myself for saying so much to someone I didn’t know, but I was also intrigued. This kind of stuff really wasn’t something girls could openly discuss without being slut shamed or worse. Deanna’s openness seemed like a trap, but I’d stayed to myself for so long I kind of yearned for another girl to open up to. I was hoping for a companion to talk late into the night with. I called, willing to talk, but Deanna had more immediate concerns and got right to the point.

“Listen. My brother’s soon to be home on break and a buddy is dropping by. I’ve dated him a couple of times, not really a boyfriend, but we’re friendly, if you get what I mean. Anyway, thought we could make it a fun night for both boys. You up for it?”