Chapter 7

Cammi let out a muffled cry through her cupped hand and collapsed on top of me.

We laid there, me on my bed and Cammi on me, sweating and breathing heavily into each other’s bodies. I felt her warm breath on my shoulder as her pussy weakly continued to milk every last drop of cum from my throbbing cock. She gently removed her hands from my chest and slid them behind me, resting them on my upper back in an affectionate hug.

“Happy birthday,” she said. She hugged me tighter, and although I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was smiling.

It was a hell of a birthday present. I hadn’t creampied Cammi in weeks. After the beautiful catastrophe that was our threesome with Jill, we had done a little research on what Jill said, and found it was true. There were times during the menstrual cycle where it was considered “safe” to have sex. Some of the sites said that the instances could be as early as a week before the bleeding period starts and up to a week after it ends, but Cammi and I decided to be more cautious and call it at four days both ways. Every single one of the sites had also said that there was no such thing as safe sex, like we were taught in sex ed, and emphasized that because of hormonal fluctuations and poor estimation and any other number of reasons, basically sometimes shit happens. None of them endorsed unprotected sex, but the damn Trojans were still too big for Cammi and she seemed to enjoy me cumming inside her just as much as I did, so four days it was.

That wasn’t to say that we stopped slobbering all over each other on the unsafe days - that would have been impossible. The two of us were like cats in permanent heat. We never went more than three days without making each other cum, we just made sure I didn’t cum inside her.

Our naughtiness and horniness were immeasurable. The Sunday after our tryst with Jill, I kept my eyes on Cammi all throughout mass as she altar served. During that hour, she was a silent and robed servant of God, and the entire parish probably saw her as a sweet and innocent holy girl. Later that night she repeatedly took God’s name in vain in blissful gasps as I busted my nut inside her.

A few days later I passed Cammi and Cody on the couch, watching Hannah Montana or some other crap in the mid-afternoon. A bit past midnight I blew my load all over my little sister’s tiny chest on that same couch as I did the week before.

That Saturday I came back early from Troy’s again at Cammi’s behest. Our parents had gone out on a date night, leaving my siblings alone at home, so I promptly returned. Cammi and I took another shower together, and I buried my face in her snatch on the shower floor. eating her out as the water beat down on our bodies.

We kept this going as my birthday drew nearer, and while I suspected something like this might happen, I also wondered if Cammi would just surprise me with some magical gift I hadn’t known I wanted for my birthday, like every other year. Instead, at the stroke of midnight marking the beginning of my 17th year and the fourth day before her expected period, she snuck into my room completely nude and rode me raw until we both climaxed.

And so here we were again, naked and spent in the middle of the night, recovering from the throes of teenage lust.

“You’re the fucking best, sis,” I sighed.

I felt Cammi’s cheek press ever so slightly harder against my collarbone. She was smiling wider. “I know,” she said sweetly. She nuzzled her face against my chest and ground her pussy against my wilting cock.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I woke up in the same position with my blanket on top of me. I looked down at my body and the rest of my bed, and saw no cum stains or clothes on the floor. Cammi had cleaned up on her own after I had fallen asleep. What an angel.You’re seventeen now and she’s still taking care of you. When are you gonna get your shit together?

I leapt onto my feet and looked around. It was strange. I never suddenly felt older or more grown up on birthdays. They weren’t even that big a deal to me since I turned eight. And nothing had changed from the night before or even the last three years for that matter, but my room looked different. The air smelled different. I felt different. I didn’t feel content sitting on my ass doing nothing all day. I wanted to do more things, see more things, have more things.

I was hungrier.

The feeling never passed. At school all the other students no longer looked like faces in a crowd. As I passed them in the halls I looked at each of them and imagined all their lives and their struggles. I thought about what their families might be like, or what they had for breakfast, or how they picked their clothes, or what shows they watched. They weren’t just strangers anymore, they were people, and competition.

I had always been a pacifist and a wimp. I always chose to run from trouble rather than stand my ground. Now I saw all the bullies and the gangsters and the jocks and felt a burning in my chest. I passed by the douchebags and the delinquents and felt contempt. I saw Antonio Ruiz walking in my direction from down the hall and imagined pushing his face into the lockers. The shrimp was probably bullied in grade school or something, but instead of channeling his pain into something positive or just becoming introverted he turned into a borderline sociopath, always hostile to everyone taller than him and rude to every female. I resisted the urge to stick my foot in his path as he strode past me in the hall. At my locker as I was unloading my backpack I watched this uppity Senior strut past with Grace Lowe around his arm.What’s his name? Roger something. Toolbag.Our private school was modest, with cheapish tuition and not only no uniform, but a surprisingly loose dress code. And still the snobby shit dressed like a Fortune 500 preppie on crack, with blazers and khaki pants and shoes that were probably custom made. He already acted like he owned the place, but since he had landed Gold Digger Grace as his girlfriend, he had become insufferable just to look at.Yeah keep grinning like a Botox patient you fake posh fuck, wait ‘til you see what your trophy girl really sees in you.A few lockers down I saw Tanya and Jill share the same disgusted look I was sporting, although I had a feeling theirs was meant for Grace.

I didn’t just feel extra territorial, I was sexually insatiable too. If I had been a pervert before, I was on the verge of becoming a sexual harassment lawsuit now. I studied every female high school student that was relatively attractive all day. There was Candace Kilpatrick, the school slut. She had the face of a model, body of a cheerleader, and the personality of an angry wasp. Most girls hated her and most jocks had already fucked her. She wasn’t the type that interested me. I didn’t look at her, I looked at everyone else. The shy girls. The focused achievers. The prudes. I had learned what Cammi and Jill were capable of in private three weeks earlier, in contrast to the sides of themselves they showed to the world. That was my turn on: good girls being not so good. In Math I stared at Jamie Harrison’s back right in front of me while Mr. Pinto droned on about graphs or something. The determined blonde had just been named captain of the swim team, and she had the body to prove it. I imagined fucking her in the school’s swimming pool, her tits bouncing in time with her calling my name. At recess I spied on Erica Kittredge from halfway across the cafeteria. She sang like an angel in the school choir and all the guys suspected she was a bombshell under her cumbersome clothes, but she always wore unflattering stuff like hoodies and waist-high skirts.She probably cleans up real nice.I daydreamed about tossing away her glasses and tearing open her turtleneck to finally let her C-cup breasts see the sun. I pictured her giving me head in the band room, letting me cum all over her auburn hair. At lunch Troy and I went out to the field to huck a frisbee back and forth, and I watched Jessica Lai as she ran circles around us on the track. The track star was older than me but shorter than Cammi, and was one of the hardest working athletes in our school. The cold October air was hardly fit weather to play catch with a frisbee, let alone run laps, but she didn’t care. I eyed her as she jogged, sweating and red-faced from the exercise. I pictured her sweating and red-faced from a completely different kind of exercise. I may have been ogling these girls all day, but at least I did it discreetly.

“Dude!”

I came back down to Earth from my fantasy and saw Troy looking at me with a cheeky smile from ear to ear.

“You uh ... you okay there?” he asked cockily.

“Yeah, what?” I said. Troy quickly raised his eyebrows and nodded, and I turned to see the Frisbee several feet behind me.Sonofabitch.I retrieved it and passed it back in a trick throw, but I messed it up and it didn’t go nearly as far as I wanted. Troy still sprinted and snatched it inches from the ground like a monkey. We resumed the rhythm we had before I spaced out thinking about a certain Chinese classmate.

“So you like her or what?” Troy asked.

“Who, Jessica?”

“No, the other girl you were eyebanging.”

“Shut up.”

“We used to be kinda close in Grade 8, I can wingman you.”

“Yeah thanks but no thanks.”

“You sure? I’m serious. I can just- shit.” A sudden gust of wind blew across the field just as Troy passed the frisbee, and it sailed way over my head and landed by the corner of the bleachers. I sighed softly.Fuck you, Toronto.

I jogged over to the bleachers and turned the corner just as I started hearing wet sucking sounds. I saw the frisbee on the ground in the corner of my eye but my attention was on the two teenage bodies pressed up against the wall. Roger Something stopped trying to suck Gold Digger Grace’s tongue out of her mouth just long enough to open his eyes, and when he saw me he brusquely pushed Grace off of him. Grace followed his line of sight and when she saw me standing there just feet away, she swiftly smoothed out her clothes and hair and walked briskly away, back to the school. Roger just stood there dumbly looking at me.

I clucked my tongue awkwardly. “Don’t mind me, just getting this,” I said as I stooped down and picked up the frisbee.

“What’s your problem?” Roger challenged.

“I’m sorry what?”

“What’s your fucking problem? What’d you cockblock me for?”

I scoffed. “Dude I was just getting my frisbee.”

“Oh yeah and you need to watch us make out while you do it?” he interrogated.Is this guy fucking for real?

“You guys were right in front of me,” I argued. “This is like the most conspicuous place ever to make out. If I didn’t see you someone else would.”

“Someone else didn’t see us. You did.”What the fuck?

“That’s my fault? A frisbee lands at your feet and you don’t think, ‘hmm someone’s probably gonna come pick that up?’”

“I didn’t think some loser was gonna spy on me and my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? You think that’s a real girlfriend? She got seen with you and bolted and left you here with your thumb up your ass. Yeah match made in heaven, bro.”

“Whatever, punk. Keep being jealous.”

“Okay, you’re a joke,” I said. I took the high road and started walking away when the spoiled brat shouted after me.

“Yeah walk away faggot, this is why you can’t get any!”

I spun around and glared back at him. “First of all, don’t call me a faggot when you’re dressed like one. Second, the only reason you ‘get any’ is ‘cause Daddy’s pockets are so deep you eat and sleep in ‘em.”

“At least I don’t take Daddy’s dick so deep like you.”That wasn’t a good comeback. That didn’t even make sense. And I’ve never been in a fight before. But I’m still going to knock this guy’s fucking teeth out of his mouth.I was about to walk towards Roger Cumstain and give him the beatdown of a lifetime when Troy caught up with me.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Who’s this,” Roger asked, “your boyfriend?”

“The fuck?” Troy said. “Fuck off and buy yourself better insults, Posh Spice.”

Roger was about to say something stupid in retaliation again, but stopped himself when he realized he was outnumbered and saw how badly I wanted him to start something he would lose. He gave me a pathetic, mirthful look and scrammed in the same direction Grace did.

“Fuck was that about?” Troy asked me.

“Just a douche being a douche,” I replied.

I seethed over that prep school prince for the rest of the school day, thinking about every better comeback I could have said, or the beating I should have given him. It wasn’t until my mom picked me up that I remembered I had more important things to focus on.

“We’ll drop Camille and Cody off first, okay Jordan?” my mom asked as Cammi and I climbed into the minivan.

“What?” I said.

“We’ll drop them off at home first.”

“ ... Then where am I going?”

“To take your test?”

I couldn’t believe I had forgotten. I had spent the last week reading The Official MTO Driver’s Handbook studying for my G1 test, and had been going over the key points the previous night before Cammi mounted me like a horse and milked me like a cow. Now that I was officially 17, I could learn to drive.

After dropping my younger siblings at home, my mom and I drove over to the nearest DriveTest centre. I felt nervous walking in, but once the process got started, it was a breeze. I had my eyesight tested and sat in the waiting area, where it seemed every teenager in the city was waiting to take the knowledge test. I spent half an hour waiting for my turn at one of the touchscreen kiosks, but took a third of that time to complete the test itself. I passed with flying colours and within another ten minutes I was given a yellow document that served as a temporary license, which I happily shoved in my mother’s face.

“Can I drive home?” I asked as we walked back to the van.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mother said bluntly.

“It’s only ten minutes away,” I whined.

“Let’s just take it a step at a time and get home without dying first.”

When we arrived back home I did something I hadn’t done in years, and actually stayed outside my room. I sat in the living room with Cammi and Cody, watching Disney channel garbage, just waiting for my dad to get home so I could beg him for a driving lesson.And my car.Sure enough, he came home a short while later, pecking my mom on the lips as he stepped inside.

“How are my little rascals?” my dad asked as he walked into the living room. “And birthday rascal. What are you doing outside your cave?”

“Waiting for you to get home,” my mom answered for me.

“The test went well?” my dad said. I happily took the provisional license out of my wallet and showed it to him in response. “Good job,” he said, and gripped my shoulder tightly with one hand.

“He’s been dying to ask you something else too,” my mom said.

My dad looked at me inquisitively so I asked, “Can you teach me how to drive real quick?”

“Right now?” he asked.

“Doesn’t have to be. You just got home so maybe some other time-”