Abbey #02: Girls' Night I

Girls’ Night Part I

Entry #1 - Stranger and Stranger

Diana has changed my life forever...

Entry #2 - A Sleepover

On Thursday, Diana sent me a text, reading: We’re going somewhere after school. Meet me at my car.

Where are we going? I texted back.

Don’t be nosy, Diana said. Don’t ditch me. It’s a surprise.

I sighed.

I needed to text Vicki. We wouldn’t be going to any of the special clubs today. The nasty excitement of watching live fucking had been occupying my thoughts all day long, and my little pussy was already soaking through my panties and into my extra tight, extra small, cuffed, jean bootie shorts.

(I normally wouldn’t wear shorts like those to school, but lately, something has been stirring inside me. Something that wanted out in the most explosive way possible. Besides, so many guys couldn’t keep their eyes off me when I wore my little shorts—Diana bought them for me—and lately, that kind of attention had been making my nipples ache until the only way to soothe them was to pinch them in when I was sure nobody was looking. I know I’ve been caught more than once, but I can’t help it. It feels too good.)

As I was about to text Vicki, she texted me, saying, Did you get the message? I’ll see you tonight?

Did I get what message? I narrowed my eyes and texted back, Did I get what message?

We’re having a sleepover at Lana’s.

A low, angry sigh rumbled through my throat.

“Miss Anderson,” my pre-calculus teacher said, “are you texting in my class?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Will you please stop?”

“No, sorry,” I said, getting up and walking toward the classroom door. “I’ll be back shortly, Mrs. Cooper.”

Mrs. Cooper said nothing, but then I was the only student who could teach the class whenever we had a substitute teacher who was in over their head while trying to instruct us, so she gave me a lot of freedom.

Outside, at the back of the high school campus and walking toward the nearest restroom, I texted Vicki: What have you told your sister about us?

Can’t talk, I’m in class.

Bullshit, I texted back, stopping around the corner from the restroom. After a minute, I texted Vicki a single question mark.

I told her about the video I showed you, she texted. Nothing else. I swear. Don’t be mad at me, okay?

I turned off my phone. We hadn’t spoken of what happened in the backseat of Vicki’s car since that day, but that hadn’t stopped us from visiting the sex clubs. During our last visit to a sex club, I had let Vicki sit next to me. While watching the show, this time it was a pair of slim Asian girls raw-bumping their bare clams together; I had let Vicki slip her hands down the front and back of my loose-fit cargo pants. She had petted my pussy from the front and back while kissing my neck. After I had come, we didn’t speak of what I let her do to me during our drive home.

Resuming my walk, I caught the last glimpse of Mary, one of our senior cheerleaders, pulling her boyfriend Hank into the restroom behind her as I rounded the corner of the building I was walking along.

I hurried toward the restroom, slowing down when I reached the double doors. As quietly as I could, I pushed one of the doors inward, slipping inside and softly easing the door back into place as I listened to the hurried breathing and energetic laughter of Mary and her boyfriend.

A short hallway led into the restroom, no more than three steps in length, ending in a right turn leading to the porcelain sinks and stalls. I crept along the short hallway, pressing my little tits to the wall’s black and white ceramic tiles, and I edged my head around the corner, looking into the restroom. The black-haired, big-titted cheerleader with the coltish legs was nowhere to be seen. Neither was her boyfriend, but looking in the wall-length mirror, I could see that only one stall had its door shut properly. The sounds of the two eighteen-year-old seniors (Hank may have been nineteen) were coming from that stall. One look in the mirrors above the sinks showed me their feet.

I stepped into the restroom, made my way to the first stall, slipped inside, and closed the door behind me as softly as possible. The door didn’t make a sound, even when I turned the latch nor when I stepped onto the toilet seat and sat my butt down on the water tank. Once I was comfortable, I turned on my phone and its recorder.

I didn’t know Mary or Hank the way Diana did. She knew everybody. Timmy knew Hank. Hank was on the football and baseball teams, worked on cars, and was at every cheerleading event, his eyes always on Mary’s ass. But, if a guy was lucky enough to date a cheerleader in high school, I guess he was going to abuse the privilege for as long as he could, wasn’t he? I would.

As I sat listening to Mary getting cock-stuffed by Hank, I imagined what they were doing by the sounds of their voices and what they said. I could picture Mary facing the wall, her hands on the water tank, shifting the lid against the rim of the tank. Hank would have flipped her short skirt onto her lower back, pulled her spankies, or whatever the fuck she wore under her skirt, down her thighs in a tight roll, along with her panties. He would have taken his thick cock, pushed the blunt head against her soft muff, and given her the D without much preparation. They were fucking during fifth period; they had to be in a hurry, and she was grunting hard.

“Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh,” Mary panted a couple of stalls over.

“Fuck, yeah,” Hank answered her, slapping his hips against her ass by the sound of it, just fucking the shit out of her as his belt jingled around his thighs.

I listened, my pussy growing wetter, making my panties sticky. Lately, I had been bringing extra shorts and panties to school, keeping them in my locker for whenever my dripping juices left me in need of a change of clothes.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Hank moaned.

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” Mary grunted. “Come in my pussy. Come on, come in my pussy. Gimme lots of cum.”

I smiled, my nipples tightening as I wondered what it would be like to say those words to a man while he was inside me, filling me ... stretching me. I had to clench my eyes as thoughts of wrestling in my backyard came to me: Strong hands turning me over, arms picking me up, legs pushing me around, the weight of my—of a guy—pressing down into my lean body.

“Oh, yeahhhhh!” Hank moaned, filling the restroom with the sound of orgasmic pleasure.

After they left, I thought about pulling down my shorts and cotton, cheek-hugging panties and giving my pussy a quick massage, but the thought of playing with myself in the school restroom wasn’t as sexy as listening to two people fucking. I looked at my phone for a minute, wondering if Vicki could get out of class, then I left the restroom and walked to my locker for fresh pair of panties.

Did Diana go through this?

Entry #3 - Getting Ready

When I met Diana at her car later that day, I noticed that her hair was a mess, and she had wrinkled her schoolgirl skirt. Honestly, my sister looked like she had been ... well ... she looked a mess.

“What’s the surprise?” I asked her, keeping Vicki’s slip a secret.