Chapter 10: Experience Gained

When we pulled into Matt’s driveway Haddy heaved a sigh of relief. Lestat was there, trying to look casual, leaning on his gleaming Harley Davidson, reading a book. She began to quiver. I think she was more than a little bit conflicted. For that matter, he wasn’t doing a very good job of looking casual. The moment we’d pulled up his eyes flicked up off the book and went right to her.

I’d seen that look on gymnasts and divers just before they went into action at a meet, at the end of the runway, the corner of the floor exercise, just before that first step on the diving board. I’d pasted it on often enough myself ― that calm, cool, confident look while inside I was sweating adrenalin. Judging by the bulge in Lestat’s leathers a big dollop of testosterone seasoned his brew.

He gave up the charade to put the book away. Obviously he’d gone home to change. The black, long-sleeved shirt had been replaced by a skin-tight black tee. A roaring tiger face decorated the front of it. Its eyes glowed like the jewel in Haddy’s eye patch. Not only that, a stalking tiger was tattooed down his left arm, stretching from his shoulder all the way down to the back of his wrist.

That was new! Either it was painted on, like Haddy’s henna, or he’d gotten it when he’d turned eighteen over the summer and hidden it under the long sleeved shirt. I bet that was it. There hadn’t been time enough to even apply a transfer, if anyone made one that good. Its teeth and claws and predatory eyes were a perfect match for Haddy’s fire-breathing dragon.

Needles ‘n’ Skins again.

Haddy’s prosthetic leg threatened to fold as she got out of the car. Lestat flinched, reaching to catch her, but she caught herself on her good leg and gave a little kick to stabilize her right knee.

He pulled back. Did he know not to offer help unless she asked for it? Or was he afraid if he made a sudden move she’d bolt? He was usually supremely confident. On the wrestling mats nobody scared him. I couldn’t believe this girl intimidated him.

On the other hand, knowing her as I did, she could be intimidating. Her light brown skin glowed, her henna vines flourishing in the bright sunlight. Her eagerness getting out of the car suddenly turned to coyness and shyness.

The look on his face said he couldn’t believe his incredible luck. When she was steady he moved toward her. It wasn’t the arrogant saunter of an eighth-grader, all bluff and bluster. He wasn’t stalking her. He was caring, protective even. But he didn’t stop until he was way inside her personal space, his chest barely an inch from her heaving tits.

She didn’t back away, but looked up at him, cocking her head to bring her good eye to bear.

His shoulders and biceps were flexing like he wanted to wrap her up in his arms. Instead he carefully interlaced the fingers of his right hand with those of her left and gently engulfed the end of her right arm in his left hand, his tiger tattoo and her dragon rubbing noses.

She bashfully looked down, blushing and squirming like the virgin she was. The muscles under her skin made her vines and leaves ripple, a jungle mating dance.

Her? Scared? I would be. Just last night it had been the kiddie pool with me, her first orgasm. Suddenly she was about to jump off the ten-meter platform into the deep end. Here she was, on only her second day Naked in School, with a boy she’d only just met, and unless minds changed she was in for the full Monty.

Him? Change his mind? Nuh uh.

Her? Not likely. She might hesitate, but in the end...

Before my own glands ran amuck I kicked that train of thought off the tracks and looked around.

The four of us were in the driveway outside a two-car garage. Matt’s house was a lot like mine, but on one floor. It was a little shabby, probably a rental, on a small lot, not much in the way of landscaping, the grass shaggy. It was just one modest ranch in an aging development of modest ranches.

It was the kind of ‘hood where people moved in and out often, strangers replacing neighbors, making it hard to know from day to day who belonged and who didn’t. Two naked girls and two fully dressed guys stood there in the afternoon sun and there was no one in sight, not a face in a window, not a curtain moving. No one was home. Most were probably two-income families working hard to make do, the kids in after school sports or day care, maybe even doing gymnastics.

After a tense moment we broke formation. Keeping hold of Haddy’s left hand, Lestat grabbed the leather jacket and helmet off his bike’s sissy bar. This wasn’t a neighborhood where you’d leave stuff like that out. Cheap plastic bicycles and scooters in the front yard? Yeah, maybe, but not a pricey leather jacket and expensive brain bucket.

Matt led the way to the house. While I’d have liked my hand in his the way Lestat had Hadiya’s, I didn’t mind too much bringing up the rear. Haddy and Lestat had first-class asses, his in leather while hers was naked. The way she swung her right leg made the henna vines on her rump dance invitingly.

Inside the house was tidy, in the cool air a lingering scent of onions from last night’s supper. A dust bunny behind the door, another under a chair, suggested a bachelor existence. I hadn’t asked Matt about his mom. Maybe she was still out in Iowa, clinging to someone else’s Olympic dream.

That sucked. Maybe it’s different with guys, but I couldn’t live without my mom. Even though Cha was there for us Me and me, we needed each other. That was a big part of the reason I hadn’t followed the same gymnastics dream Matt had.

There was worn thrift-shop furniture, a modest flat-screen TV, a gymnastics magazine on the coffee table. It was a rented-furnished house, not a home. The whole thing looked temporary, like he and his dad hadn’t been here long and weren’t planning on staying.

I didn’t like the feeling that gave me. After all, I’d just gotten him back.

There was an emptiness here, the quiet hum of the refrigerator, like the house was holding its breath.

Four teens -- a vampire, a naked jungle girl, a naked oriental midget, and a buff gymnast -- in an empty house. That sounded like the cast for a bad teen flick. Since the script called for a virgin sacrifice it’d get at least an “R” rating.

Matt broke the nervous silence. “Anyone want a snack?”

Okay, he was just trying to be a good host. He knew why we were here. We all knew.

Using his deepest, ripest, vampire accented voice Lestat said, “Vell you know vhat zey zay in Trahn-zil-vayn-ee-ya -- eat a Pakistani for lunch and an hour later you’re horny again. It is not milk and cookies ve need.”

Haddy let out a giggle and a squeal and squirmed in his arms as he attacked her neck for the third or fourth time today. What a pair! They were made for each other, the vampire and the Pashto warrior.

Matt let out a soft snort and put his arm around me, warm and strong. Leaning against him, I decided losing Haddy and gaining Matt was more than a fair trade.

Terrell? Old news, I tried to tell myself.

Matt led us to a spare room that, along with a bunch of boxes and an exercise bike, had twin beds already made up. I wondered who used ‘em, if anyone. Or the bike for that matter.

Matt hit the sleep button on the clock radio between the beds and there was soft music. Mozart! The gauzy curtains, stirred by a gentle breeze, softened the afternoon glare.

“Do you want us... ?” Matt started to ask, making a move for the door.

“Stay! I want you with me,” Haddy answered.

She was looking at me, not Matt, but it didn’t matter.

Yes. Oh yes!

With me and Haddy already naked and Matt in his usual school casuals, Lestat’s boots and tight pants took the most time. Before long both the guys were down to their ripe bananas.

I was already pure horny. It wasn’t my first time. I knew what was coming. I could see it dangling from Matt’s groin.

But Haddy suddenly turned all shy again. Talk about conflicted! She wanted Lestat, probably more than she wanted her leg back, but she was afraid. This was totally contrary to the culture she’d been brought up in. According to the Koran Allah would not approve.

The chemistry was there, I could see it in her eye, just as I saw it in Lestat’s. Dressed or naked he was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen ― tall, lightly tanned, except for the part of him you’d expect. That was surprisingly pale for someone as dark-eyed as he was. He had a black bush, but he wasn’t too hairy. The veined shaft of his cock was like ivory, the pale pink head emerging from the foreskin.

But he wasn’t god-like flawless, either. Wrestling -- even high school wrestling, with all its protective gear -- is not for sissies. Or maybe he’d tangled with an opponent outside the ring. His right eyebrow was scarred, probably from butting heads. His nose wasn’t quite straight. He had a strong chin with a bit of a dimple, and eyelashes any woman would die for.

He had only the one tat -- the tiger -- but it was enough. If Haddy hung with the Goths, decorated the way she was, she’d fit right in, though I didn’t think she’d ever take on the bored sulk they seemed to wear. She had a vitality they suppressed.

And her current tats were only temporary. Would she eventually trade them for real ones to camouflage her scars? A Muslim man wasn’t supposed to get tats, but then again a Muslim girl wasn’t supposed to be running around naked, about to sacrifice her virginity. She was breaking all the rules.

Maybe she’d get just her dragon inked.

Her nipples were stiff, her areolas swollen, and I was willing to bet her pussy was already lubricating. Suddenly her legs started that funny dance little kids do and Matt caught on, pointing her to the bathroom.

She ran. The toilet flushed, water ran, and she came back, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

I guess she’d managed the TP herself.

Lestat reclaimed her hand and drew her close again. He really, really cared.

She took a deep breath, and looked up to him. “You want to put your -- your...”

He understood. His left hand gently cupped her scarred right cheek and she leaned into it.

“My cock,” he offered, his thumb softly tracing the line of henna above the satin eye patch with its sparkling stone. “Yes, I want to make love with you, very, very much. But I won’t unless you want me to.”

“You have done this before.”

“Yes.”

I wondered who it had been. But then he didn’t say how many, did he?

“Putting your -- your cock into my p-pussy, inside me, where no man has ever been before. It is a big step,” she whispered. “It is -- the most intimate thing to do that there is between two people, is it not? A most precious gift? To have you -- to let you -- put a piece of yourself inside me, and to leave some of your essence within me? Your seed? It means a lot.”

She was in The Program, on its contraceptive, so there was no risk of a child. Even so...

He nodded. “It does. I know how serious it is. I also know that with you it will be very, very special for me as much as you.”

“But for me it will be for the first time. That can only happen once,” she added.

Well doh! When Terrell and I had first done it had that even occurred to me -- to us? We’d been surfing a wave of hormones. What had Terrell and I done when we’d been so young and innocent? We’d had no idea. We’d only been two sets of glands calling to each other. That sex ed class ... Too much, too soon?

I pushed that thought away for another time, maybe forever. The toothpaste was long-time out of that tube, never to be put back.

Lestat didn’t take his eyes off her. “I want it to be right, to be truly special for you. You understand? I need to know you really want this.”

Looking up at him, she nodded, her lips parted, her breathing fast, her lovely breasts rising and falling, her turgid tits within an inch of his naked chest, her body tilting toward Lestat like he was north and his pole was calling. “I do really want it,” she whispered.

What was going on was contagious. I was snuggled against Matt, his right arm around me, my left arm around his bare waist. There were two elephants in this room. My free hand was curled around one of the trunks. I was ready to guide it right up inside me. There was soft music and soft light. It wasn’t just glands. Matt had tracked me down at Bao’s grave on Sunday. That gave me some idea what I meant to him. The thought warmed my heart along with my cunt. This wasn’t going to be any randy, hurried shower fuck.

As much as we wanted each other we couldn’t take our eyes off Hadiya and Lestat. Haddy reached up and her stump stroked Lestat’s cheek like it still had fingers. I’d felt that touch myself. The other night -- was it only last night? -- her dragon’s flames had licked my cheek the same way. It’s the only way I can describe the intimate touch of the end of her arm. It had set me on fire.

“I do want this, with you,” she whispered.

Her arm still touching his face, Lestat turned his head and softly kissed and licked her dragon’s nose. At the same time he eased her down to sit on the bed beside him. Without even discussing it Matt and I knelt to slip off Haddy’s prosthetic leg and roll the elastic stocking off her stump. Together we gently massaged away the imprint left on the tender skin of her thigh, while Lestat kissed her, his hand holding the flower of her wounded breast.

Matt and I could smell her arousal, see the excited inner petals between her thighs as we backed away to sit on the other bed. She was so beautiful, Lestat was so handsome. Matt turned my head so he could kiss me, deep and long, his hand cupping my cheek, warm and strong and reassuring, making me feel beautiful, desired, so filled with love there wasn’t any room for jealousy.

Lestat continued his foreplay. His thumb brushed the heart of the blossom -- her nipple -- as he nuzzled and licked her good ear. Haddy gasped, and squirmed. With her prosthetic out of the way he eased her down on her back on the bed, shifted her so he could stretch out beside her. He petted her and I could see the coiled tension in his body, the shivers in hers. He was eager, but restrained, knowing it was still too soon, that she wasn’t ready.

Stretching out, Matt and I spooned so we could watch our friends. He was behind me, his body warm and strong against my back, one arm cushioning my head, that hand free to toy with my tits. With the other he stroked my naked hip, the outside of my thigh, then gently explored my mons. He nuzzled my ear, his tongue hot, while something hard tried to worm its way between my thighs. Lifting my leg a little I let his impatient cock slip through, sliding past my pussy.

Closing my legs I trapped his stiff, hot shaft, enough of it exposed for me to finger the rubbery head, already slippery and musky with his pre-come. It was close, so close to my cunt, but we wanted to savor this, to treasure it, even though it wasn’t our first time. We wanted to wait, to watch Haddy and Lestat, to share their adventure. I saw a depth and meaning to the way Lestat treated her, a way beyond him simply being an experienced lover. He had really fallen hard for her, as hard as I had at the first sight of that incredible bronze eye of hers and what I saw there.

I felt, too, a deepening connection with Matt as we snuggled and watched, him cuddling my breast, me toying with his glans.

Lestat worshipped Haddy’s flesh with his strong, gentle hands, and his mouth. I saw the flash of the stud as his tongue flicked at her nipple, making her gasp and arch her back to present him with her sensitive tits. He nursed on each of them. His hand found her pussy and when she spread her legs his fingers covered her mound, one finger delicately invading her slit, barely slipping between her pouting lips.

She moaned, lifting her pelvis invitingly.

Meanwhile Matt was pinching my nipple while a finger on his other hand probed my own aroused cunt, wringing a gasp out of me. Haddy glanced in my direction and we shared a look that went deep into each other’s souls, sharing feelings.

The choreography was a bit awkward, but as she watched I shifted, raised my leg so she could see Matt penetrate me, guided the head of Matt’s dick to my oozing pussy from behind. Her eye widened as he wedged his way inside. Even though we were on separate beds, a foot or two apart in the small room, it felt like Matt’s and my mating dance was entangled with Haddy’s and Lestat’s.

Haddy rolled toward him, lifted her right leg, what there was of it, and that was all the invitation he needed. Gripping her butt he drew her close, gently rolling on his back to ease her on top. Was he thinking just what I’d suggested to her, that she should be on top?

With Matt behind me I urged him to penetrate me deeper. As he worked his cock in, the angle it took pressed hard against the front of my cunt, my G spot, setting me afire, making me spasm and gush a fresh wave of juices.

Haddy awkwardly straddled Lestat while he carefully nuzzled the head of his gorgeous hard-on at the entrance of her beautiful, sweet, tender, virginal pussy. With soft gasps and squeaks she worked the tip of his uncircumcised dick into herself just the tiniest bit.

Oh God what a sight that was, that beautiful girl slowly working her way down on him, knowingly sacrificing that part of herself to him. He didn’t push, didn’t hurry her. He supported her. Because of the uneven lengths of her thighs it was hard for her to balance upright, so he steadied her, kept her vertical, kept her from accidentally impaling herself too soon. He was just barely nested in her opening, pressing at her gate.

She hesitated, got a look of determination, a no-nonsense, a take-no-prisoners look. She came down, and gasped.

And winced.

For a moment she froze, then eased down farther, frowning slightly, wriggling her hips a tiny bit. She rose again, then pumped slowly up and down, taking in a little bit more of him with each stroke, taking a long, long time to bury him in her hot depths.