We were third wheels. Her friend, Marissa, was the object of my friend Kevin's attentions. Sarah and I (Trevor, by the way) were just along for the ride to make everything look respectable to the parents.
It was 1985 and the four of us were 16 years old. We were thin, moderately good looking, had parents with investment portfolios, and knew that we held the world by the tail. We were typical teenage idiots.
Kevin met Marissa at a youth party just after the new year holiday. Most of the kids from the various schools went to those events. The party was supposed to be a way for the kids from different schools to make new friends but that never really happened. The private school kids hung out with their classmates and the public school kids stuck around with their peers. The jocks and the preps stayed away from the stoners and the punks. The geeks huddled in small circles on the edge of the dance floor.
We (all of the kids that mattered in my circle and some that didn't) went to the party. I'd say that fifteen or twenty from 'our group' showed up that night. Shortly before the night ended Kevin saw a busty girl with dirty blonde hair that he hadn't seen before and made a beeline for her. To nobody's surprise, Kevin got her phone number even though she had a friend by her side the whole time. He was fearless when it came to women: he saw what he wanted and he went after it. Women just responded for some reason. None of us could ever figure it out but whatever he did worked for him when it came to girls. He ended up getting the cherry from three girls in our class; the bastard. A few years later he hooked up with a married woman ten years his senior. To a man we all hated him and revered him at the same time.
But this story isn't about Kevin, or even about Kevin and Marissa. This is the story of me and Sarah.
Just before it was time for the parents to pick us up Kevin cornered me near the coat room. "Trevor, hey, can you come to my house tomorrow night? I need a favor."
"Sure, Kev, what's going on? I'll need a good story for my mom to give me a ride since, you know, it's kind of a hike to get to your house from mine."
"You'll need to think of a good one because the truth probably won't fly. I invited Marissa and her friend, Sarah, over to my house tomorrow night and I need a fourth. You get to be it. Marissa really likes me and I think she's hot enough to fool around with me."
"Who are Marissa and Sarah? And why do you need me? I bet you're trying for a threesome and just need someone to confuse the girls so you can lure them into your lair."
"I wish! Seriously, c'mon, Trev. Marissa is that girl with the tits that I spent the night talking to. Sarah is her friend from their neighborhood. Marissa seems really shy and she says that she won't go anywhere without Sarah. And forget the idea of a threesome. I know I could pull it off, of course, but it just doesn't feel right. Marissa is too naive. And with the way those two are inseparable I'd bet that neither one would give my hot body any attention if the other were there."
Did I mention that Kevin had an ego? Male gymnasts ... they are all the same.
"Sure, Kevin; whatever you say. Not a problem. I'll tell mom that we need to work on our biology project. When should I be there and how long do I have to stay? And - oh by the way- you're going to owe me big time. From what I saw of that girl's friend she's not very pretty."
And that was that. Kevin wanted to hook up with a girl and I got to keep her friend distracted for a few hours. That was all right, though. I figured I'd take it out in trade later on when I got a gal in my clutches.
The following night I showed up at Kevin's house at 5:30 with a promise from my mom that she'd be back by 9:30. That normally meant that she'd be there some time after ten. She was late to her own wedding for goodness' sake. Kevin's parents were out of town for the night so he was on his own. His dad traveled a lot because he was some high flying exec for some big company other and his mom was ... somewhere else, I guess. How did I know his dad was a bigwig? He drove a Mercedes. My mom drove a Subaru.
Marissa and Sarah showed up at six. Sarah's mom dropped them both off; I think Marissa's mom didn't have a driver's license. They were immigrants of some sort (I could tell from Marissa's accent). God only knows what story the girls told their parents. But, hey, that wasn't my problem so I let them worry about it. I didn't expect to see either of them after that night.
Marissa wore some sort of peasant dress. She was about five foot five. She wasn't petite or fat; just normal. She had some baby fat left on her and would've looked good in a bikini. She didn't have flat tummy but at that age no boys cared about a girl's stomach. Her makeup was a bit heavy but, again, teen boys don't focus on that part of a gal's anatomy. She had breasts and a vagina and that was all Kevin cared about.
Sarah wore a white blouse with jeans. The blouse was loose fitting but you could see she had a chest. And her jeans? They were tight. Really, really tight and they fit her really, really well. Her waist, ass, and hips were tiny and the front of her jeans was so flat that you knew she looked good in a bikini. She was five feet eight or so (my height) and had unkempt bottle blonde hair that stopped at her neck. Imagine that she scrubbed her head with a towel after getting out of the shower and left it like that and you would be pretty close.
And then there was Sarah's face. I had never heard of the term "Butter face" before but she met that definition perfectly. She had green eyes, freckles, and braces and when she smiled she looked like one of those Chinese dragons that they parade through the streets in Hong Kong. Kevin was going to owe me. Kevin was going to owe me big time.
After a few minutes of "Hi, how do you do? Where do you go to school? That's cool..." Kevin and Marissa left to go to his parents' bedroom, leaving us all alone.
We stood across from each other in the kitchen and just stared down at the floor for a minute.
"So, Sarah ... do you feel like we're only here as a means to their end?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I don't know about how Marissa feels but Kevin has had her in his sights since last night and now they are up in his mom and dad's bedroom. Alone. What story did Marissa tell you about tonight?"
"She said that she met a really nice guy and that he invited us over to his house because he was having a small get together. I didn't expect her to head off like this. I guess you are right- I think I'm here to keep her mom happy and clueless."
"If Kevin had said that it would just be you guys and him then I don't think his, hers, or yours would say yes. So ... What do you want to do? I've got a deck of cards if you want to play a game."
Sarah laughed. "Are you always the one to entertain your friends' distractions and run interference so they can have fun? I mean- you've got it all planned out. How often do you have to play the part of the friend that watches the best friend? Are you some sort of a boy scout?"
"Nah, boy scouts takes up too much time. I thought about what Kevin was up to. He's pretty transparent, you know. And I told him he'd owe me. So I thought we had a couple of things we could do tonight to pass the time. We could gossip about our friends. But we don't really know the same people except Kevin and Marissa so that's out. Or we could fool around. I don't know you or if you'd be up for that so that's out. Or we could play cards."
"We could always watch TV?"
"You want to watch TV in silence with a guy you hardly know? That doesn't sound like much fun."
"Good point. Do you know how to play gin rummy?"
And so it went. We played gin for half an hour before Sarah turned to me and said "This is boring. And you're killing me. Let's play something else."
Now all of this time I'd been keeping one eye on my cards and one eye on her body. Sarah, though she wasn't a pretty gal from the neck up, had an amazing body. Fortune favors the bold so I threw it out there: "OK. How do you feel about strip poker?"
She laughed nervously. "With the way you just beat me at gin? No way. I'll be naked before I know it. Not that that isn't always a bad thing (giggle), but I don't want to show you my fun parts and have you fully dressed."
"Alright," I said, "what about truth or dare? We both get to learn about the other person. And to make it easier for you to say yes I'll even put in a rule that we can't either ask or dare the other person anything sex related."
"You mean that we play truth or dare but you can't ask me about my desires or fantasies and you can't dare me to do anything like touch your dick?"
"Right. But the same goes for you not asking me that stuff."
"I guess. My mom's not going to be here for a few hours anyway. And since we don't go to school together who are you going to tell?"
"Exactly. This is a free pass game of truth or dare. Nobody has to feel awkward and since I am 'just some guy you don't know' you can be honest. Or lie. It doesn't make a difference because it won't get back to anyone that you do know."
"OK. Just promise me you don't have a career planned as a used car salesman. Something tells me that I just bought a lemon and liked it."
So we sat down across the kitchen table and played the most boring game of truth or dare you can imagine. The questions were safe. Who do you like? What is your favorite class? If you could be a celebrity who would it be?
After twenty minutes we knew nothing about the other person. If you put two heterosexual teenagers full of hormones in the same room and tell them the only thing they can't talk about is sex then guess what? All they think about is sex. I could see that Sarah was distracted because she kept on fidgeting in her seat- like she couldn't get comfortable. And I kept on having to adjust my package because I had erection that just would NOT go away.
Sarah finally broke the ice. "Hey ... this is no good, either. Half the people you talk about I don't know and I really don't care about the remote control car you got for your twelfth birthday. Let's get rid of the rule about talking about sex. You can bet that Kevin and Marissa aren't following that rule."
"Yeah, they've been quiet for a while up there, haven't they? OK. Sex is on the table. But ... and this is a big one. We have to play naked." I didn't think she'd ever go for it but it was a free night. Nothing ventured nothing gained, right?
"What? Are you nuts? Why do we have to play naked? You think that because I want to talk about sex that I want to do it with you? I think you may have gotten the wrong idea about me. I like to have fun and all but no way."
"Look. I don't want to have sex with you," (OK, I lied about that part. I really wanted to have sex with her- images of what were under her shirt were killing me). "I'm just trying to spice it up. Let me finish telling you my idea.
"We change the game. While it is still truth or dare we really make it a game of 'Truth' only. We turn down the lights low in here and we get naked. Then we sit back to back facing away from each other but with our backs touching..."
"Yes, naked. But we aren't staring at each other or touching the other person other than with our backs. Since we aren't looking at each other there is a feeling of wonder and mystery about what is behind each of us. We are just talking in a sort of dark room and answering the other person's questions."
"We aren't looking at each other? What about when we get into position and when we get dressed again. And what if Marissa and Kevin show up?"
"Well ... I know I'd love to see you naked but you get to see me naked, too, so it is pretty fair, right? Say we get naked and then stand in front of each other for 10 seconds. We both count to ten. And then we sit down facing away from the other. And if they show up we'll scramble and get our clothes on. It'll be worth it."
"And how do I know I can trust you not to grab me or something like that?"
"You don't. But I like to think my mom raised me not to do that. And with two older sisters who would beat the crap out of me if they found out about this I think you're pretty safe."
Sarah laughed nervously, like a chuckle at the back of her throat. "Deal. But only ten seconds and don't try to grab anything, mister used car salesman."
"Deal. I'll hit the lights. You go over there and face the wall. When I turn down the lights we get undressed. Then, when I ask if you are ready, you say yes. Then we turn to face each other and count to ten. You know, 'one Mississippi, two Mississippi' and when we get to ten we turn around and sit with our backs to the other."
And we did. When we both said 'Ready' and turned around I forgot to start counting. Sarah had to remind me. As bad as I thought her face was, that was just how awesome the rest of her body was. And I'm not just saying that because she was the first naked woman I'd ever seen in the flesh. I was right about her waist, ass, and hips. And her breasts. She stood with her legs crossed so I couldn't see her crotch, just a little patch of brown pubic hair. And she had one hand across her chest hiding her tits. But I could tell that her breasts weren't small. I have no idea what they were. They couldn't have been a "D" cup but they looked pretty big to me. They must have been a good "C" cup, I guess.
Me? I was a typical teen boy. I couldn't wait to show her my prick. I got undressed in about five seconds flat and turned to give her the full frontal shot. On a scale of one to ten for dick hardness I was at an eleven so I couldn't hide it, anyway. And I figured that fair was fair: she had more bits to show (or hide) than I did so if I wanted to see her private parts then it was only fair that she see mine. I stood there like Superman with my hands on my hips and wearing nothing but a shit eating grin.
I mean, honestly, if the cost of seeing a woman with a great body naked was showing her your hard dick would you say 'No'? I didn't think so.
My body was pretty good. I wasn't a gymnast so I didn't have bulging biceps or huge pecs and my ass couldn't bend steel if I clenched it but I wasn't too shabby, either. I was a soccer player so I had lean muscles and low body fat overall. And I knew that I was better equipped than most guys in the locker room so I was more than happy to show it all off.
Sarah's body was, and this is the only term I can think of, 'tight.' It was like she had the body of a 22 year old only on a 16 year old frame. She had freckles on her chest from the sun and her skin was pale. I don't know what sports she played but she didn't have much fat on her, either. She was ready for bikini season in January!
We gawked at each other, counted to ten (much too fast for my liking) and then slowly turned around to sit down. It was like playing a game of "Marco! Polo!": "Are you there?" "Are you over here?" We figured it out after each one accidentally touched the other's butt once or twice.
OK, I admit it. I knew where she was but I wanted to touch her butt. She didn't seem to mind too much. I didn't.
Once we sat down (an eternity after I floated the idea) we were both nervous and shivering. Our nervous laughter seemed to cause our whole bodies to shake uncontrollably. It was January but it wasn't the temperature that made us shiver.
Sarah didn't say anything so I jumped in: "First question. Are you ready? No, wait. That wasn't my first question. Who was your first kiss?"
And that's how we started. We didn't know what the other person was comfortable with so we started slow. And, honestly, we didn't know what the hell we were talking about. Sex? At age sixteen there is a whole lot more talking about it than doing it.
She kissed some guy named Steve. I kissed a gal named Hilary during a game of spin the bottle. She liked a guy named Billy at her school. I had a crush on a gal named Sandra. She had never been to second base. I'd tried with a girlfriend named Erin in 8th grade but chickened out when she gave me a look that said "Buster, I know what you're doing and you want to rethink that strategy."
Her movie star love was Richard Gere. Mine was Christie Brinkley. She'd been in "National Lampoon's Vacation" so she counted as an actress, right?
I didn't want to be a virgin when I went off to college. She didn't know if she wanted to or not; she didn't think that far ahead.
We'd gotten comfortable with each other as much as we could for being naked on a kitchen floor at someone else's house. At first we sat hunched over with our arms around our legs and only about two square inches of skin on our lower back touching. As we talked, though, we both seemed to relax and lean into the other one. By the time she asked "the question" we were leaning back against the other with our heads on each other's shoulder and we were looking up at the ceiling.
"What is it like when you get really horny?" She had been sounding more and more confident as we chatted but this question was quiet. She was afraid to ask it but couldn't stand not to ask it at the same time.
I exhaled slowly. "Shit, I don't know. It's just weird. I feel this tightness in my dick and all I can think about is relieving the pressure. Like I have to fuck something or do something to relieve it. There is this nervous energy that keeps me from sitting still and I bounce off the walls until I cum or it goes down."
"Really? Girls are different, I guess. We don't do any of that stuff. It is ... Like an itch or a buzz. Or feeling antsy."
"How do you take care of it? What makes it go away?"
"Are you asking if I masturbate?"
"Yes. Do you?"
I didn't say anything for a while. "This is just between us, right? You aren't going to tell anyone? Even Marissa?"
"I'm sitting naked on a kitchen floor touching a guy I don't know and am in the house of some other guy I don't know talking about being horny and you think I'm going to tell someone about this? No. No, I won't tell anyone what you say. Because I think I know what you'll say next. So- with all my cards on the table ... Yes. Yes, I masturbate. I rub one out. I touch myself. I cum. Are you happy now?"
"Yeah. I won't tell anyone, either. I mean- who'd believe me? I jerk off. Not a lot, though. Probably only twice a day."
"Twice a DAY? Jesus! I do it like once a week!"
"Yeah, it gets pretty distracting. But, you know, in a good way. So how do you do it? Do you have a broom handle somewhere that takes care of your needs?"
"Yuck, no; not at all. Do people really do that? I can't imagine that that would feel good. I rub my clit when I need to cum. Sometimes I also touch my G-spot. How do you do it?"