Chapter 9

With Trudy storming out of my life, I actually did a bit of soul searching. I looked back and saw that all of my lust had been directed at younger girls. Made me seem like a real creep, like a pedophile. I’d then tried dating girls in my class, but I never got very far with the girls that went out with me. Meaning, of course, they were happy just being friends and not willing to do anything more than kiss.

One girl, as just an example, let me open her blouse and suck her small but firm breasts. Perfect, but two minutes of nibbling her nipples and fingers dancing up her thighs and she pushed me away, telling me things were going too far and too fast.

“But, didn’t it feel good?” I’d asked.

“Yeah. Big time. Too good. Not doing that again.”

Did you read that? I was doing a good job at tongue lashing the girl’s tits, too good a job, and when her body started asking for more, her brain shut the whole operation down. I thought she was just playing games, but two more dates and she wouldn’t even let my hands near her chest. The girls around me were all fighting their bodies while all the boys were desperate to complete their life’s goal and mission. It made no sense.

I somehow made it into the fall of my junior year without exploding, though unloading my balls into the sink twice a day did a lot more than any of my dates to keep me sane. Going into the fall semester of my junior year I pretended to focus on classwork, but all the while I kept my eyes open for any girl willing to do more than talk when out at the movies.

If I’d had a real loving girlfriend, even just a girl willing to suck me off once a week and show me her twin towers of femininity, I’d never have done what I did with Helena. Helena reluctantly allowed me to do pretty much anything I wanted with her. I like to think that eventually she even showed some desire to have me be her one and only, but from the beginning I never should have started what I did. Maybe not as bad as what I’d done with my aunt, but I still should have turned away and acted the gentleman.

And then what? Helena and her mother would have gone on to do whatever it is they planned and I would have been unnecessarily deprived of all the joys Helena could give to men and boys alike. So I did what I did and got my share, and with no real harm to Helena. I consider that proof that the unlimited sex women walk around with between their legs is going to waste. Yeah, that’s what boys like me thought, and with all of my limited experience with girls like Ronnie and Trudy on my mind, I of course took my own selfish course of action with the beautiful Helena.

I still refer to Helena, in my own mind, as the golden girl. Not her real name. During one quiet time together she whispered to me that her name was Hala or something like that, but that her mother wanted her to go by the name of Helen or Helena. Didn’t really matter to me. I was amazed that we ever had the chance to meet and connect the way we did.

It had been a miserable day in early fall, gloomy and blustery but without any rain. I was just crossing a major intersection on my way home when this girl caught my attention. She was running after a bunch of twirling papers, all caught up in some small twister of wind near a car repair shop. Yelling out something like, “No, no, no,” the girl was trying to grab what had obviously been snatched out of her hand or bookbag by a gust of wind. On impulse I managed to grab a couple of looseleaf pages but most were taken away and sent down the road to never be seen again.

I walked up to the girl and handed her my catch and it was then I labeled her the golden girl. She was almost as tall as me but dressed in one of those dorky private school uniforms, with a short skirt and black shoes and white shirt. Definitely not the clothing for fall weather, but it made it easy for me to see that even in the dim afternoon light, her skin glowed. Not a light brown like some of the Latina girls had, or even the off-white like Alyssa’s, but a golden hue I’d never really noticed on anybody before. Sure, kind of brown, maybe a bit of yellow. Not white either. Golden. I’m sticking to that.

Even with all that I would have ignored the girl and walked on if not for her eyes. They glowed as well, a very distinct honey-gold light coming from each of her almond eyes. And then there was the smile. Smiling at me, thanking me for my help, her high cheek bones only enhancing the glow that seemed to emanate from her.

The one other thing that stood out was the girl’s nose. Huge, like a beak. I’m sure she will grow into it and by the time she reaches adulthood she will be a raving beauty. No doubt, I hope. But just then, with the glow of her beautiful face bathing me, my jaw literally dropped when my eyes focused on her nose. I feel like an asshole for admitting that, but that’s the way it was.

Still, beak notwithstanding, I was happy to receive her thanks and introduce myself. You know, just a high school kid on his way home and very willing to lend a helping hand. She was also on her way home, but just as she had gotten off the bus the wind had whipped her schoolwork out of her hands and rid her of two hours of work. Tough luck.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I wound up walking her home. Just a block down and turn right and another half-block, her simple home the lower portion of a four-apartment building, a convenient two doors down from the freeway. It was noisy and dirty outside her place and I was ready to turn for my own home, but she somehow felt obliged to invite me in. Helena made the offer of some lemon water and went up the walkway toward her front door. That gave me a chance for another view of the girl, and my cock hardened in an instant.

Not just a beautiful girl with a big nose, but a shapely beauty with an ass that pushed her little skirt out to the rear at least as much as her breasts provided a counter balance on her chest. A long thin neck hidden only by her cascading black hair, frontal mounds a sweater would only have made more sexy, and slim hips made up for by a perfect ass. My eyes had taken all of this in and I was staring at what I could see of Helena’s shapely thighs when she called to me. I shook my head, hoped she didn’t think I was doing what I was doing, and quickly bounded up the broken walkway and into her home.

The place was plain, the front room devoid of much decoration but for a very colorful tablecloth in the dining area. And cold, the internal temperature being a good five degrees below the windy outside. Still, I had water and a smiling golden girl sitting by me, so it wasn’t too bad.

We told our stories but hers, of course, was more interesting. She and her mother were from Lebanon, seeking asylum in the US for something I didn’t fully comprehend. War, from within and from without, religions and groups or maybe tribes all being a part of why the mother wanted the girl out and in a safe place. So they wound up in this crappy part of town, hunkered down and waiting for court dates, all the while trying to make a life for themselves.

The mother was out working half the time, doing some kind of home nursing care while Helena ate up most of their money by going to a private school. There was a promise of getting a special scholarship and having the money returned, but that was for the future. Just then, with Helena and me trading stories of teachers and favorite foods, she was just another high school kid.

Not quite high school, which was the kicker. Helena was fifteen, almost sixteen, but without school records and with only mediocre entrance test scores the bureaucrats at her school had put her in a class of eighth graders. This confused me, given that Helena was well over five and a half feet tall and had great English, but there’s no getting around some pencil neck with a rule book.

That’s how the friendship started, but it quickly spiraled into something much more. After maybe an hour of talking back and forth I made to go home and Helena actually showed some sadness at being left alone. She asked when I could come by again, though for some reason she told me not to visit when her mother was there. This was something I understood. Mothers do not like older teen boys hanging around beautiful young girls. Fortunately, the mother had specific work times, Tuesdays and Thursdays happening to be very late days for the woman.

As I left for home, Helena touched my arm and reminded me to drop by again on Thursday. Looking into her beautiful almond eyes, her golden light almost blinding me, I could easily imagine the young woman lusting for me, desirous of a strong young man to take her and make life worth living. Helena’s exotic nature and sexual allure overwhelmed me, and I could think of nothing but the girl’s full breasts and the luscious lower lips that hung between her thighs.

Total illusion, of course. More likely delusion. My lust for the girl took over my pea-sized brain, making it impossible for me to recognize that she was lonely, stuck in a class of little kids, and in need of an older teen friend she could talk to. Somewhere in the back of my thick skull I knew that, but the girl was still hot, very sexy, very lonely, and very much in need of a friend. Just the kind of girl asshole guys like me are willing to take advantage of.

I’m ashamed that I did not return that Thursday to see and talk with Helena. Of course I was interested in the girl. She was interesting and exotic and sexy. Especially sexy, and I’ll admit that I whacked off no small number of times with thoughts of my hand traveling up those beautiful and comely thighs. But I did have a life and was even trying to date a girl at my own school. Between my friends and relationships and family and everything, I just never thought of making time for Helena.

The girl had no phone, her mother keeping control of their only phone and I’d neglected to leave Helena any other way for her to contact me via her laptop. They didn’t even have internet service at their place. Helena was forced to use her school’s or the local public library. Talk about living in the stone age. No way she could contact me even if she wanted to.

Turned out that she really wanted to. Just the following Tuesday I was again walking home and about to cross that same busy dirty intersection when I was waylaid by Helena. She called out my name, asked how I was, said she missed me that prior Thursday, and wondered if I wanted to come back and tell her about life in America. I was hesitant at first but didn’t want to be rude and figured that another hour in her company wouldn’t hurt.

She made some tea and we sat on a ragged couch and talked about daily life, none of which was nearly as important to me as the fact that our knees touched. Even more importantly, when my knee touched hers, she didn’t move hers away. Her smile increased, her eyes glowed brighter, and the hard-on I had for the girl almost leapt out of my pants. I was too cowardly to attempt anything right then, but as we parted I did move in for an all-American hug. Helena hugged back, holding me in what could only be called an embrace, whispering how much she enjoyed talking with me and hoping I would return.

In an act of selfish delusion, lustful thoughts filling my head, one hand slipped down to just where Helena’s ass began to curve out from her lower back. With an exaggerated whiff of her lightly scented neck I gave a quick kiss to her ear and assured her I would return. In response, Helena gave another squeeze of my waist and smiled.

You can bet I was back again on Thursday, and this time with a book of poems I thought Helena might like (stolen from my sister’s book collection) and a few ideas of parks or museums she might enjoy visiting. Helena thought it all wonderful, and when I leaned in to kiss her neck and give a soft squeeze to her upper thigh, she leaned into me and sighed, “Oh, Louis.”

I was disappointed when Helena didn’t throw a leg over my lap and pull my face into her chest. No surprise there. Pulling away from my attempt at intimacy, she rose and announced that her mother had bought some biscuits that weekend and she thought I might like some. Not really, but I followed her into the drab kitchen and watched as she searched for the snack. Realizing that the container had been put on a high shelf, Helena ignored me and pulled over a step stool. Only two steps but enough for her to reach the shelf. Thing is, I had no interest in biscuits or whatever other kind of snack Helena had. The only thing on my mind was this beautiful girl who seemed very open to my advances.

As she stepped up and reached for something I didn’t care about, my eyes saw only the upward curve of Helena’s thigh and the bit of golden flesh showing from where her white shirt broke from her skirt. Without thinking, going only on my own urgent needs, I reached for her. She was taking a step down, and as my hand reached out her thighs opened and her downward motion brought her crotch into my open palm. She started and released a small gasp but I just pulled her in, my lips pushing back into her neck, giving her a kiss as my fingers felt out the fullness of what lay between her thighs.

She only lightly resisted my hold, and when I finally found the courage to raise my eyes and meet hers, she said, “Oh, Louis. Must we?”

The question puzzled me, but I pushed all possible meanings aside, happy only that Helena was not pushing a knife into my side. I nodded, lowering my mouth to give a bite to where her breast hid beneath her clothing while massaging the thick layers of flesh I could feel through her thin panties.

As I pulled her closer, my lips tasting hers for the first time, she didn’t kiss me back. But her body trembled, she returned my lusty kiss with a quick kiss to my cheek and said only, “My mother will be so angry. We mustn’t let her know.”

Why on earth would I tell her? I let the words pass by, pushing Helena in the general direction of her bedroom while my hands and lips did everything I could to unclothe and bring her flesh closer to me. Once in the bedroom, empty but for a small bureau and a large mattress without boxsprings, Helena pulled away from me. Without a word she turned to the corner and undressed, carefully folding each bit of clothing until she was naked, devoid of even her panties. I was of course waiting for her, slightly covered by a quilt to cut the chill, but she pulled a towel from somewhere and put it on the bed.

“We should use this so my mother doesn’t know. I can wash this later.”

That made sense to me, not that I really cared. My eyes and brain were transfixed by the golden beauty that collapsed onto the mattress next to me. The girl’s breasts took my breath away. They were large but firm, pulled down by gravity but then rising up as though her nipples were calling to me. Her chest was only a shade lighter than her face or arms, her flesh giving off a glow. Not light brown, not pale white tanned with the sun, rather a golden sheen that bathed me in her golden light.

I kissed and tasted Helena, her face and neck and breasts, but I could not hold back from my need to know and have her. As my fingers felt her thick lower lips and bathed in what I could only interpret as liquid lust for me, I pushed her back and pressed my hips between hers.

The incredible feeling of my cock entering the hot wet folds between this girl’s legs cannot ever be adequately described. I moaned with the joy of feeling my cock be embraced by Helena, her legs widening as I pushed deeper inside of her hot liquid realm. Incredible. And yet as I pushed in deep, my crotch merging with hers, then back and in again, beginning a badly needed fuck of the girl, I was very aware of how very wonderful but also very easy it was to fuck Helena. Her cunt seemed to be made for me, ready for me to fuck and plunder as my own treasure hoard, Helena there as a guardian goddess for me to make use of. She was hot and willing and wet. The perfect girl to fuck