Chapter 2

It was ten after nine that night. The entire family was in the living room watching Dallas when the phone rang. I should point out it was the only phone in our home. My mother answered it, thinking her sister; my Aunt Marion was calling about their mother. I heard her sigh as she approached me with a small smile and said quietly, “It’s someone named Tricia for you, James.”

I accepted the telephone from her extended hand and realized the phone had a reasonably long extension cord that would allow me to leave the living room and talk to Tricia in the kitchen behind a closed door which offered a semblance of privacy.

“Hi, James, I had to call ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Having masturbated three times since coming home, I had no trouble admitting that I had been thinking about her too. Then in a masterstroke, added: “So much that my ... err, I’m starting to ache.”

“All over or just a certain part?

“You know what part, Tricia.”

She giggled girlishly and after a short pause gave me a super hardon by adding: “I’m so wet, James. I keep thinking about your kisses ... and how I felt when you touched me.”

“Can anyone hear you?” I whispered, worried that her mother or worse, her father was eavesdropping on our steamy conversation.

“Oh no, I have my own phone!”

“Um, I’m sad to say I’m on the family’s one phone.”

“THEY CAN HEAR US?” Tricia said in an alarmed voice.

“No—No,” I quickly assured her. Long cord, I’m in another room and they’re glued to the TV.”

“Whew! For a second there I thought ... well that doesn’t matter.

She laughed, and I imagined her facial expression, eyes wide, face flushed as she added: “I can’t believe we did all that in the shed.”

“Me neither, I want to do it again.”

“Warren has a baseball game tomorrow. I think it starts at one, but he has to be there by eleven.”

“What about the rest of the family? Someone might be using the lawnmower, or something.”

“The whole family’s going. Wynona’s pissed, she wanted to meet you, but she’s got to go to the game.”

“Why does she want to meet me?”

“Because I told her how hot you are!” Tricia laughed lewdly as if she’d just told a dirty joke.

I was struck by a thunderbolt of lust. No one had ever said that I was hot before. Nor had I considered myself hot at anytime. Only later did it occur to me that this Wynona probably wanted to make out with me too.

I did have the presence of mind to try deflecting Tricia’s compliment, sensing danger in expressing interest in meeting Wynona, friend or not. I didn’t know much about women but I knew that they were all lacking in confidence to some extent, especially when it came to other women whom they regarded as a threat to them men wise.

“Soooo the shed’s on for tomorrow?” I said hopefully.

Tricia laughed lewdly, you bet it is!”

There was a rustling sound that sounded familiar yet unable to identify until Tricia, still laughing said, “Guess what I’m doing right now, James.”

Clothes! The sound was clothing--but beyond that I was lost. (I should add that I was holding the phone in one hand, with my right foot against the base of the door to the living room preventing anyone—god forbid—from entering the kitchen while I squeezed my dick through my chinos with the other, all the while maintaining the phone in place between my neck and shoulder.)

“I’m soooo wet, James. Remember what you did to my finger?”

“How—how could I forget that?” I managed to gasp.

“I—I have two fingers dipping into my kitty. Should I lick them clean like you did?”

“YES!” I blurted and came in my pants.

We groaned in sync with our mutual orgasms.

Perhaps a minute passed before either of us uttered a word. Tricia broke the silence, saying: “Wow that was the best one ever!”

I followed with: “I’ll have to change my pants.”

She giggled hysterically, then caught herself, and said, “You jazzed in your pants?”

Ignoring her use of a term I understood, but had not heard previously, I mumbled my predicament. “How do I explain it to my parents who are in the next room?”

“Just go to your room and if anyone asks, say you’re tired. It works for me,” Tricia said and several minutes later she ended the call, saying, “I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow.”

The Following Day

As soon as she saw me approaching the shed, Tricia practically jumped into my arms. She stretched up and gave me a big kiss, and I could feel her smiling.

“I missed you soooo much!” she said happily, pulling me inside as I closed the door behind me.

“Jeez Tricia, you know how to make me feel really special. I missed you too.”

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight, inhaling deeply. “Mmm, you smell good.”

I chuckled as I ran my fingertips through her hair, and that seemed to set her off, opening my shirt and caressing my chest with her deft fingertips. Needless to say, my cock was at full staff and apparently Tricia felt it for suddenly her pelvis was humping against it at what seemed to be full throttle.

Her eyes got bigger and she literally covered her mouth with one hand to keep from squealing out loud and possibly alerting any passersby to our activities in the shed.

She looked up at me, excitement plain on her face and moaned softly, “Ohhhh, ohhhh fuck! That—that feels soooo good!”

She was into this! This was awesome!

“Someone’s excited,” I teased, biting my lip.

Tricia made a helpless ‘what can ya do, face’ and shrugged. So I kissed her, and we were off and running kissing and lip sucking, and swapping spit and tongue licking and sucking.

We stopped briefly to catch our respective breaths, and then resumed our heavy kissing and groping.

What can I say? Tricia had a finely formed young female bottom, plump and smooth like a nectarine and as firm as that swollen fruit when it’s first plucked from the branch. There was silkiness to her shoulder-brushing hair–-the whole of which gave off a glossy sheen, and from her taut flanks to the tips of her smallish breasts, the excitement of her perspiration only served to enhance.

She got a mischievous look on her face as she asked, “Have you ever seen a girl’s pussy, James?” Her eyes were dancing as she searched my face. “Like, have you ever seen your mother’s?”

An image of my mother undressing and the black hairs curling out from the hem of her pink underwear and the sight of her hairy mound as she dried herself, flashed into my mind as I replied; “Yes, but not my mother’s,” I lied feeling strangely guilty

“I’ll bet she’s got a big hairy one,” she said teasingly.

“Are you comparing mother’s now, Tricia?”

Her ensuing laugh was filled with a confidence that I lacked at the moment. “Never mind all that. Tell me what you thought about last night.”

“The truth?”

“Yes, of course the truth.”

“I thought about you. I hardly slept at all. I thought about your breasts ... and your pussy, or kitty as you call it.”

She giggled and I caught her left hand rubbing suspiciously over her groin. To provoke her, I deliberately made up some things that I very well could have masturbated to about the girls in our class.

I also wondered about some of the other girls in our class. You brought those thoughts on though; I have to tell you, Tricia.

“For instance?” she said, thoroughly interested.

“Um, well does Mildred wiggle her way into those jeans, and what does it look like when she peels them off? What panties is she wearing underneath? Does she have a thick bush down there?

“How about Vicki–-what does she wear at night in bed? Something that skims her slender thighs? Does she reach beneath the hem to touch herself? What about when she’s in the shower–-where do her hands go when she soaps herself?

“How hard does Ginny Glosterman party on weekends? We’ve both heard the rumors. How many cocks has she sucked? You know she’s done it; and who is she sucking? Where does she do it–-the back seat of some older guy’s car, her parent’s sofa, or maybe a restaurant toilet?

“What about Mildred? Does she have a boyfriend yet? If so, does she know what gets him really fucking going?”

“FUCK!” Tricia shouted, but her hand was now rubbing furiously against her dress

“Tell me how wet you are right now!” I all but shouted in her face.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, I’m—I’m—I’m flooded!”

“Tricia ... you’re so bad!”

“Ha—Ha!” she managed, and followed with, “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” she said challengingly.

“Yeah, all right,” I said, trying to disguise my nervousness. “You show me yours ... I show you mine, right?”

She looked into my eyes, hesitant like she not entirely convinced it’s the right thing to do, but wants it to be. Then her eyes dropped to my chest. A second later her hands follow, fingertips gliding over the expanse of my pectorals to the breastbone, then tracing back just shy of my prickling nipples before descending to map out the taut contours of my stomach.

I was throbbing like crazy.

“I—I—I do,” Tricia said insistently. “But—but I—I’m not comfortable, you know?”

But I sense she doesn’t want to miss out on anything either. ANYTHING!

“Ohhhhh–-God, you’re strong,” she cooed, squeezing the muscles of my upper arm. “So powerful...” She struggled to meet my gaze, like she’s remembered what she’s got within her girlish grasp, and it frightens her.

“I like your touch,” I tell her as her fingertips stroke feather-light on my neck.

“I like your cologne,” she whispered in my ear and then brushed her cheek against my collarbone and then down to my chest.

Her fingers moved so quickly I didn’t realize she’d opened the buttons until she sighed and deeply inhaled. It was the rush of warm air on my bared chest that alerted me to the fact that she’d managed it.

I moaned aloud when kitten like, she extended her moist pink tongue and began licking my chest—then mewling contentedly when she realized how much she liked the taste. Even then she steered clear of my nipples, like contact there might have scary consequences.

“Let’s get naked,” I whispered, not wanting to scare her off at this point.

“Uh huh,” she said, and with both hands darting under her dress, stuck her thumbs into the elastic at the top of her underwear and nudged them down to her knees. Tricia had a sprinkling of dark brown pubic hair over her genitals.

I must have gawked at her pussy’s crack for a minute or so before she broke into my thoughts, saying, “Your turn, James,” she said somewhat impatiently.”

Her eagerness startled me, and I quickly shoved my jeans and boxers down and shrugged my shirt off. My full-fledged boner sprang out and up and Tricia saw it. It actually frightened her in that she backed away several steps, almost tripping over her panties, but managing to retain her balance. Her right hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide as saucers.

“It ... it’s so big!” she said after a long silence.

“Um, yeah, it’s been growing faster than I am,” I told her. “I mean, I’ve been waking up each morning and finding it stiff like this, and ... and I really think it’s gotten a lot bigger over the last few weeks.”

“Really?” she said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe it’s like boobs.”

“Boob’s?” I said dumbly before realizing what she meant by it.

“Titties,” she said, and I nodded, “Oh ... yeah, boobs.”

“Well mine aren’t really developed. Maybe they’ll pop out in the next couple years. That’s what my mother tells me anyway. She’s got nice ones. I hope mine are as nice as hers.”

I had seen Tricia’s mother, and she did have nice ones. If Tricia was going to have them too, I decided then and there to be nice to her from then on.

“Take your clothes off, Tricia,” I said hoarsely.

Tricia nodded absentmindedly already having reached behind her to unzip her dress. Then she peeled the dress away from her shoulders and hips, wriggled clean out of it and stepped aside, stripped nude except for her skimpy pale yellow A-cupped brasserie.

I stood gawking as she removed the brasserie and tossed it aside onto my clothing already piled alongside the dusty mattress.

“Wow!” Tricia said, giving a quick shiver and then reaching up with one hand and absentmindedly massaging a nipple; rotating it beneath her fingers as she reached out to touch my erection with the other. Not wanting to disrupt the mood I did nothing for a time then while she held my dick in her hand wonderingly, I reached behind her and took hold of her ass. She shuddered and jumped a bit at the contact, but seemed to enjoy my touch as much as I enjoyed hers.

“Um, James?” The intensity in the air was so thick you could cut it. I noticed that her hands were trembling.

“Yes?”

She bit her knuckle nervously, and hugged her arms to her chest. She didn’t answer. She just shrugged. She was sort of smiling a little bit though. It was very exciting.

“Whew,” she said, “it seems to have gotten hotter in here.”

“No kidding,” I replied.

She looked at my erection. It was pulsing and twitching with the beating of my heart. It cried out for attention like the spoiled little brat that it was.

“Can I touch it?”

“Sure, why not?” I said, still not believing what was happening between us.

Her hand reached out, very slowly, very hesitantly. The moment was torture and exhilaration at the same time. Her fingertips were almost there. I held my breath, waiting to feel her soft, hot fingers touch my dick. She stopped however, inches away from it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, but she would not continue. Her hand remained frozen in air like that, like a photograph, the kind that frustrated me, so close to touching but frozen, torturing me with anticipation.

“So do it then, Tricia,” I stammered. “Do it!”

Finally she stretched out her hand and I felt her fingertips touch its head, confirming for me in an instant that this wasn’t all a delirious dream. I released a heavy sigh. I felt the electric tickle of genital contact for the very first time.

“It’s so hot,” she whispered. “Wow, um, it um, feels funny, like it’s alive, or something.”

I wasn’t thinking straight, but I’m pretty sure I felt the tiniest of squeezes. Maybe it was just her fingers twitching. Either way, my brain overloaded briefly, the kind where your thoughts fuzz out and the most intelligent thing you can manage is, “Aaaaaahhh.”

Her fingers were only on my erection for a split second before she yanked back and clasped her hands together against her chest, her face red and glowing with excitement. My brain finally got unstuck, and I sat up straight, a stunned look on my face. She laughed, eyes wide, face flushed. “I can’t believe I did that!”

She licked her lips and swallowed, then reached out tentatively with one hand. Slowly, slowly, her fingertips inched closer, until she made contact. She brushed the tips of her fingers up along my cock, and then stroked the other direction. Then, using just one finger, she ran the tip up and down the sides of my shaft.

“You can do more, if you want.”

“Like what?” she asked, unsure.

“Wrap your hand around it.”

She did, though she was trembling enough for me to feel it. Her fingers didn’t quite reach around my shaft; a year or so later my dick would be even thicker and longer and the guys would nickname me Big Jim because of it.

I didn’t say anything, or even move. I just watched, breathless. I would’ve loved for more, but I felt like we were already walking a fine line.

She held me like that for a while, unmoving, just looking and breathing hard. Her trembling slowly subsided. She glanced at me. “Why do I like this so much?” she asked softly.

Tricia had a skinny little ass, but skinny or not it still felt great, smooth and soft, and very warm to the touch. I gave it a little pinch, and she giggled. Then, to my delight and amazement, she scooted her pelvis a little to the left so that I could reach the rest of her.

She flinched as I began stroking the delicate little peach fuzz of her puffy pink pussy, but did not tell me to stop. Instead, she squeezed my dick harder, allowing me to fondle her sweet little kitty (her word for it, not mine) with my inexperienced hand.

I was surprised at its warmth and moistness. I couldn’t believe what was happening as I rubbed my fingers back and forth across her folds, exploring its varied textures, and she began to tremble and shudder at my touch.

“It feels nice,” I said, “so soft and puffy.”

She turned crimson, partly from sexual excitement, partly from self-consciousness; but she did not respond. Instead, holding me with both hands, she began to stoke her little fingers up and down my rigid pole. Suddenly her touch felt even more amazing, now that it was in motion. I’d masturbated myself at least a hundred times by now in my room at night, but it had never felt anywhere close to what her small feminine hands were achieving with my dick.

“Do you want to kiss it?” I asked, my voice cracking with desperate longing. “For real, I mean.”

She shook her head from side to side, but did not speak.

“Please,” I begged, “Just once, please?”

She shook her head again, and I resigned myself to what was still the greatest feeling I’d ever known, hoping she would relent later on, and I resumed my exploration of her pussy, not knowing that a thing called a “clitoris” would have hastened everything along if I began teasing it.

“Well, can I play with your titties?”

“Yeah, sure you can!”

“Tricia...?”

“Yeah?”

“I love the way you’re touching me.”

She laughed and said, “I love the way you feel, James. I never thought...” She paused and inhaled. The rush of air on my dick when she expelled was searingly hot on my shaft.

“Ohhhh fuck!” I gasped.

Tricia misunderstood me, and barked, “We’re not fucking, James. Understand? Not today.”

My subsequent nod placated her to the point that she extended a moistened tongue and we frenched for a while and I played with her nipples and she teased mine, going from one to the other.

”Mmmm, salty,” she laughed, then gave herself a little shake and turned back to my mouth. We resumed our torrid kissing and groping, this time while fully nude. It was certainly a different slant to things.

I took a moment to study her; Tricia’s cheeks were rosy from all our kissing, and her breathing was quick and shallow.