Chapter 7

When we got home, I helped mom make dinner and the whole family ate it together at the kitchen table. To say that it was nice would be an understatement. I told them about the milk incident and the following scene in the classroom, and about giving the letter to the vice principal and the ensuing interviews that the school counselor had with the girls. Mom had filled dad in about the matter, but now he demanded a more detailed version, which we supplied.

My father had always been a quiet and intellectual man, more interested in books than people, but he had a keen sense of morality, that was more or less textbook ‘do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you’, or even more succinctly; mind your own damn business and treat people well. Hearing for the first time how I had been bullied, he seethed with anger.

“Son,” he said, “I think you have handled this matter better than I ever could. I particularly like how you threatened the vice principal with legal action and publicity. Had I heard about this matter, I would have probably contacted those boys’ parents myself, which might or might not have worked. What you have done, however, has a very good chance of working.” He always spoke like that; carefully constructed sentences spoken slowly and deliberately.
“Thanks dad. On a completely different note: I hope you don’t mind that I’ve cleaned the garage a bit and pulled out the old weight-bench and barbell from the cobwebs. I’ve decided to start working out and get in better shape. I’d like to buy some more weights for it, if that’s ok?”
“Son, what’s gone into you? You speak differently, dress differently, make good decisions - it’s like you’ve grown up ten years in a fortnight. Sure you can have some weights.”
My sister spoke up before I could: “I think he has a girlfriend. Is it Anna or Gunilla?”
“I do not have a girlfriend. I have a couple of good friends who happen to be girls.” I said, smiling at her. Then I turned to dad: “I didn’t mean you should buy them for me - I’ve got some money.”
“Out of the question, young man. I’m buying the weights for you. Just tell me what you need - in writing so I get it right.”
“Thanks dad.”

After dinner, I took a shower and borrowed some more of dad’s deodorant and eau-de-cologne, put on clean underwear and a new shirt, then took my bike to Anna’s house again. When I got there, her family was having dinner and Gunilla hadn’t arrived yet. So I got to meet her parents, who swiftly had me seated at the table and insisted I have at least a glass or orange juice or a cup of coffee since I wasn’t hungry.

I put on my very best behaviour and answered their questions about my family and what my parents did for a living and what my interests were and the whole battery of what I can only describe as ‘vetting questions’. They were pleasant enough, and my answers seemed to their liking. During the conversation, Anna squirmed a bit, as if she was embarrassed and impatient to get out of the situation. I had a hunch it was also because she was worried that her sister would say something about yesterday, but Louise (a.k.a. Lizzy) kept quiet and contented herself with giving me a very knowing grin. I pretended not to notice. When Gunilla finally arrived, we excused ourselves and went up to Anna’s room immediately.

As soon as the door closed behind the three of us, we were all over each other, necking as only fourteen-year-olds can do. Well, 41-year-olds as well, obviously, but for some reason I was feeling more and more like fourteen, but with an adult male’s memories. We exchanged saliva and fondled each other for quite some time, and it didn’t take long for my cock to get rock hard in my pants. The girls definitely noticed, and before long their hands were squeezing my shaft through the fabric.

“Honestly ... I think we need to stop or I will cum in my pants!” I said, gently pushing their hands away.
“Oh, you mean like you made us both do yesterday?” Gunilla said, grinning widely. Anna chuckled.
“Look, about yesterday,” I said, “I just wanted to thank you both. It was the best night of my life.”
“Yeah ... it was pretty amazing,” Anna said, and went over to sit on her bed, “I could hardly get to sleep last night - I just kept thinking about what we did. You know. And when I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt about it all night.”
“Me too.” Gunilla said as she plopped herself down on the other side of the bed, leaving the middle for me to sit.

“Your sister isn’t causing trouble?” I asked. Anna frowned.
“She’s been telling her friends, I’m sure - but she hasn’t told my parents. That’s not why they gave you the grilling. It’s just that you’re the first boy I’ve had visit at our house for a couple of years, and now they think...” she trailed off.
“ ... that I’ve been invited because of romantic reasons,” I finished.
“Yeah ... and I mean, they’re not wrong,” Anna said, and smiled at me and Gunilla. I felt myself flushing.
“I ... really like the two of you,” I said, carefully choosing my words, “I mean... ‘Like’ isn’t the best word - I get hot just thinking about you, and ... yesterday, afterwards, I was all warm inside, and I still am.” I paused and gave them each a soft kiss before I went on:
“But I would rather be friends with benefits with you ... Just really close friends who sometimes do ‘absolutely nothing’ together when we’re not busy studying.”
“Friends ... with benefits?” Gunilla asked. I realized that the expression hadn’t been used back in 1993, and that I was now the one who had coined it in this timeline, not Alanis Morrisette.
“Yeah. Really good friends. With benefits.” I said.
“Friends with benefits,” Anna tried the expression with her head to the side as if she was trying the taste of it in her mouth. Then she smiled warmly at us and said: “I like it. Friends with benefits.” Gunilla nodded her consent and grinned. “Friends with benefits it is,” she said. Then the three of us kissed for a long time to try out a few of those benefits.

I was happy that Anna and Gunilla had accepted the idea of having a non-romantic relationship. Hopefully, that would mean less jealousy and less heartbreak, because I had no intention of getting involved with any single girl for any longer amount of time this time ‘round. I had been given this one chance at reliving my teenage years, and this time I knew just how precious they were.

A while later, as we got up for air because Gunilla had to go to the bathroom, I turned to Anna to thank her for what she had done for me earlier that day in the classroom.
“That comment of yours, when you called them total losers that would never get laid, that totally destroyed them,” I said.
“Spoken from the heart. I fucking hate them,” she said.
“Why do you hate them? I’ve never heard them say anything to you. You’re the ice-queen - nobody picks on you!”
“I know plenty of what they have done to others. Is that what people call me though?” She asked, a worried frown on her brow.
“No, it’s just how I think of you. And I don’t mean it negatively - it’s just that you carry yourself with such poise. You are always cool and collected. It’s like you radiate this invisible field of go-fuck-yourself and you-are-not-worthy, you know?”
“Oh. I wasn’t aware,” she said, and thought for a second before she went on: “But I can sort of understand what you mean. I never noticed it before, but since yesterday you’ve also - radiated, if that’s what you call it - something much like that. Confidence, I suppose. You ooze confidence.”
Then she paused for even longer, and her gaze burned into mine.
“And it’s insanely hot.”

“I really wish your folks weren’t home Anna,” I said as the tense moment dragged on.
“Oh? What would you like to do then?” Her gaze didn’t waver.
“I could think of a thing or two. Most of them involve my mouth and many parts of your anatomy that I got acquainted with last night.”
She smiled almost dreamily.
“You know, Charlie ... There are certain parts of your anatomy that my mouth didn’t get to become acquainted with,” she said and reached down with her hand to cup me. I nearly died from pure lust.
“Now I really wish they weren’t home,” I breathed and leaned in to kiss her again.

We were kissing quite passionately when Gunilla opened the door and made us jump apart. She giggled and quickly got in and shut the door behind her.
“Lock it!” Anna commanded.
“Really?” Gunilla asked.
“Yes, really - I don’t care if they think we’re up to something, just so long as they don’t walk in and see this.” Anna said.
“See what?” Gunilla asked as she turned the key.
“This,” said Anna and set about opening the buttons on my jeans.
“Oh God!” Gunilla said, and I echoed her:
“Oh God ... I can’t believe this is happening.” I said.
“It’s happening,” said Anna and gave my jeans a hard tug.

Gunilla joined us on the bed and helped her friend liberate my cock from its cotton prison. When it sprang loose, it made a slapping sound as it hit my stomach. Needless to say, I was as hard as diamonds on steroids. Like the day before, the girls used their hands to explore my shaft and balls, but this time they were both a bit more confident.

“It’s so soft and so hard” Gunilla marvelled as she slowly stroked me, pulling my foreskin back and forth.
“And so smooth,” Anna added as she lightly let her fingers tickle my balls. “Have you shaved?” She asked.
“Mhm. Of course.” I said.
“Why?”
“Well ... I really prefer shaved pussies - not just because I like how pussies look, and I want to see them well; I also don’t want to get hair in my mouth while I’m eating. So I live as I learn. Plus I like how my cock feels when I shave it. And hairy balls are pretty ugly.” Anna chuckled.
“I shave too, did you notice?” She said and toyed with one of my testicles.
“Mhm. At least your labia. Or I thought you might be naturally hairless still.”
“Would you like me to shave too?” Gunilla asked, a hint of a worried frown showing as she looked up at me for a second.
“Well ... I prefer a completely smooth pussy, but as you no doubt remember from yesterday, a little hair won’t stop me from going down on you. If you want to make me a very happy man, though...” I smiled.
“On that topic,” Anna said, and lay down more comfortably, “as you said yesterday: Look at me.”
I did, and she wrapped her warm lips around my cock as she looked up at me.

Now, I have received my fair share of blowjobs in my days - some of them even from pretty skilled girls whose profession it was to perform such sexual favours in exchange for money, but I wouldn’t have traded this one for any of the really good ones I have had. Neither Anna nor Gunilla were skilled - in fact, they were definitely novices - but nothing compares to the optics of having two beautiful fourteen-year-old girls suck your cock. The raw, perverted pleasure I felt at just looking at them with my cock between their lips was enough to have me on the edge within five or ten minutes. Summoning a self-control I didn’t know I possessed, I whispered: