Copyright© 2015 by Caractacus
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - His girlfriend had told him to take care of any "damsels in distress" while at college
At the time, Rachel, Jerry's sister knew that I had a girlfriend, and she didn't want to make waves, in a culture (public high school) where freshmen were at the very least too young, often still considered children, she avoided getting me into a situation where I might be embarrassed by her or because of her.
In my senior year, with Caroline gone, I had the opportunity to play the field, I didn't have any single girlfriend, it wasn't that I had ever made a conscious decision about it, but due to Caroline's praising of my prowess before leaving, I had become the escort of choice for some of the girls who preferred a discreet relationship without having to worry about getting tied down to one boyfriend, and then there were also the odd few who may have been between boyfriends.
I think that there might have been occasions when Jerry may have suspected, but unless a girl was willing to, or wished to be seen with me, I tried to take into consideration her wishes, but my own privacy and my discretion were paramount. Mom's old hatchback went exploring all the highways and byways of our county, and even other parts of the state. Dates frequently took me out of town.
Rachel approached me shortly after Easter, she had heard that I could be a very gentle lover, who made first times enjoyable. I was certainly totally unaware of any such judgements circulating among the girls at school, if any of the boys had have known, I would have known about it myself, and possibly have to suffer the consequences. I tried to put her off, she had been the subject of most of my wet dreams since long before I ever met Caroline, but my close relationship with their family ... I sometimes thought of her as the sister that I never had.
And I knew of Jerry's attitude towards her boyfriends or any boy that took a second glance; you know how the world works, or how an allegedly intelligent person's mind works: I did something in my past, it wasn't acceptable – whether morally, ethically, legally, memories are made (or I wish were not made) of this, whatever ... and so as a protective brother, he tried to make sure that she would never make those same mistakes, herself.
As far as her family knew, she was on a sleepover with a group of girlfriends. Nobody took any notice of the fact that I was going on an out-of-town date at the same time. Although this was the first time that such a coincidence was more than just coincidental, I felt very uncomfortable at the deception, but everything had come to a head; my liking of her, and my realisation that if I were to refuse her, she might get someone else, who might end up hurting her, to do the deed; and my own wish to settle down with one girlfriend.
That evening in a town twenty miles away, I had seen where I could acquire my own car. There was an auction at the Sheriff's Department that would take place next Saturday.
Rachel must have had British – Scottish or Irish ancestors, she had longish, flowing curly auburn hair, green eyes, freckles and a cute little upturned nose. Her face was heart-shaped, with a pointy chin, she I thought that she resembled Emma Watson, the movie star, quite a bit. She was a little shorter than me at about five feet, six inches, and topped out at no more than one hundred and fifteen pounds.
Rachel lost her virginity in a motel. I wasn't willing to take her in the backseat of the car, no matter what the view looked like at the lookout point, and I couldn't very well take her home, either to my place or hers.
The desk clerk took my cash, hardly even looked at me, maybe then he could claim ignorance, if any crime were committed. I didn't really care, I just wanted to get Rachel into bed.
Rachel was not surprised at my preparedness, I had brought my own sheet, and a towel for any blood. She remarked on the clamminess of the sheets already on the bed, neither of us was too keen on staying longer than we had to, the room wasn't inviting, it was cold, not temperature-wise, but there was a feeling of transience: get in, do it, get out again. It wasn't designed for long-term stays.
Rachel was getting impatient, while I laid the sheet on the bed, but with a word I stopped her from undressing herself. I moved up next to her, lifted her chin, and kissed her. Her fingers were already starting to fumble at my buttons. I took a hold of her hands, held them next to her body. And then got out my ropes.
I had ropes, because one of my previous girlfriends had liked to be tied up, and some of them had, like Rachel, tried to speed things up, but I wasn't about to allow myself to lose control. Rachel's right arm was tied to the bedstead, followed by her other arm and her legs. She was screaming blue murder, so a hankie went to muffle her mouth. She was a little quieter, but she was still moaning.
I undid her buttons, and her bra, slid the sleeve and bra off of one loosened arm, tied her up and undid the other side. Her jeans and panties followed.
I kept her mouth shut, because she started complaining that I wasn't moving fast enough. Against all my own instincts, I kept away from her pussy till the very last. By the time I got there she was almost overheated, her odour was so powerful.
I nibbled lightly on her clit, and that was game, set and match; she exploded in the most awesome orgasm. It was only the gag in her mouth that kept the neighbours from calling the police.
She shuddered in completion. Her eyes were begging.
I entered her pussy, and she hardly even noticed as I took her maidenhood. She was humping up at me; that I couldn't do anything but reciprocate. I was using every trick that I knew of to try and keep myself from coming, but I needn't have worried, she mumbled something to me, and I saw her eyes start to scrunch up, she was there, herself.
I came ... and came ... and came, it must have been the best cum that I ever had.
We were both exhausted, I untied her, before falling asleep.
I woke to find myself spooning her, my dick was trying its best to get back in that beautiful pussy; and suddenly she pushed back, we were conjoined, yet again. ''I love you, '' I heard a whispered voice.
I returned, ''I love you too.''
Lying on our sides, spooning, allowed us to have a slow, almost languorous bout of lovemaking. I was glad that I had actually paid to stay the whole night.
I walked around the impound yard. I was disappointed with the selection available. Most of what was available were Japanese or Korean sub-compacts, and as impressively efficient as they may be, they just didn't rev my motor (pun totally intended). I did notice two wrecks in the back of the yard; that almost seemed hidden away. One looked like it may have been a Camaro before being twisted out of shape, possibly having been rolled; the other was a SS Sedan with most of the front end destroyed.
I was told the story from several months back, regarding how the sedan had come to be here.
My father tried to dissuade me, and he bid on a little Spark, it was in reasonable condition, he was getting it for my mother. Of course, the Spark started first time, I drove that home, while a car trailer hitched behind Dad's 2008 three-quarter ton Extended Cab took my two acquisitions back home.
When I was bidding on the two wrecks, I had seen; no one else even seemed to be interested. The sheriff had ended up making an executive decision, the SS Sedan had still been there, none of the various state or federal agencies had ever returned to demand the evidence, and he had no use for it, he wanted to make space available, and possibly score a buck or two. He decided that the SS could go, and if I was brave enough (or is that stupid enough) to want what was left of a seriously bent Camaro, well, so be it.
For my purposes, I had probably been watching far too much cable TV, the Camaro would supply the donor engine. The supercharged V-8 engine put out well in excess of an extra third horsepower over the original SS motor. The SS would be the ideal sleeper, a wolf-in-sheep's-clothing to take to the local street drag races, or even try to drift. Several of the car or garage shows on TV had some seriously good ideas, but some were also downright nonsensical and/or useless; admittedly a PSP in the glove-box, although superfluous would be nice-to-have; but the real, the realistic, and the really good modifications that made sense, well, they made sense. It was a case now of let's see what works ... and what doesn't!