Chapter 13

Michelle, Janine, and I sat on the steps outside the house to wait for Tom. We could have gone in, but I thought there was a chance that he might need my help getting upstairs.

I was right. Tom came weaving around the corner a few minutes later. He had a beer in his hand. “I saved one for each of you,” he said.

“Get inside, douchebag. You know you’re not allowed to walk around with a beer in this town!” I said.

“I was thirsty.”

“Ladies?” I asked.

“Lead the way. We’ll follow,” Janine said.

I didn’t actually have to support Tom to get him up the stairs, but I was ready to catch him if he started to fall. We went into Tom’s room, since his is bigger, and yes, okay, cooler than mine. I turned on some music, and Tom flopped on his bed. Janine lay down on the couch.

“I said I wanted to get better acquainted,” she said.

“I remember. I’d like that too,” I said. I looked at Tom, but Michelle’s red hair was blocking my view of his face. She was on top of him.

I lay down on my side, facing Janine on the couch. The instant our lips met, her tongue was in my mouth and her hand was on my ass. So, naturally, I slid my hand down her side, over her hip, and onto her thigh. We made out like that for a minute or two. When we broke for air, she said, “Can I see your room?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe I should check out your bathroom first.”

“Okay.” I got up and pulled her to her feet. We kissed again and ground ourselves against each other.

“Someone’s excited,” she said. “I definitely want to get much better acquainted, now that I’ve felt that.”

Tom and Michelle were busy. His shirt was off, and I could see him fondling her tits through hers. I don’t think they even noticed that we got up.

Janine went in the bathroom, and I went in my room. I had enough time to pick up the dirty underwear on my floor, take my shoes off, and force my dick down the leg of my pants. I mean, a big hard bulge is cool. A flagpole, at this point in the proceedings, is kind of un-cool.

Janine pushed the door shut with her ass when she came into my room. Her tights were gone. All she appeared to have on were her top and those painted-on looking booty shorts. I felt myself leak. “Oh, this is nice,” she said, looking around. She went to the wall over my desk and checked out my collection of centerfolds taped to the wall. “You do realize most of those boobs are fake, don’t you?” she asked. “Good airbrushing on the implant scars or good cosmetic surgery, but still fake. Why do you guys all like the double-D cups on these girls?”

“That’s all fantasy stuff,” I said. “I bet there’s a lot of airbrush work on their faces, too. I like a real girl, with a real face, real tits, and a real ass.”