Chapter 1

Keri giggled into her palm, unsuccessfully hiding her reaction to Lauren Henderson's dilemma. She wasn't alone of course. Brenda and Amy were giggling too. The three of them stood a little apart from their friend as she tried to find a way of turning down Lorne Cunningham's invitation to a movie without hurting his feelings too much.

The four of them, along with two dozen other teenagers, were waiting for the bus home, the number eight, which wound it's way through Kemmingham's less prosperous suburbs on it's way to and from downtown and the airport.

Keri went to St. Patrick High, a reasonably good school, surrounded on one side by private and semi-detached homes and on the other by townhouse projects populated by the lower middle class and a sprinkling of welfare recipients.

Keri didn't live in either area, which marked her as something of an oddball. She'd had to fight that since she'd started here a few years ago, and had largely succeeded in becoming "In" with the right people. That was a major accomplishment, considering she lived in a garbage dump and had a jockette suspected of lesbianism for a sister.

Lauren returned to the little group, rolling her eyes in the air as the others broke out in open giggling.

"What did you tell him?" Amy demanded.

"I told him my grandparents were visiting this week and I had to stay around the house."

"Brilliant."

"Not really. He asked me about next week."

"What'd you say then?" Brenda asked.

"I said I didn't want to commit myself to dates that far off in case something came up."

"He'll just ask you next week," Keri said.

"I know. God! You'd think he'd take a hint."

"I think he's kind of cute," Amy sighed.

"He's a goof!" Brenda snorted.

"He's a little geek!" Laurel scowled.

"He can't be worse than Dennis Howe," Amy giggled. She set off the others, even Laurel, who'd had the misfortune to have gone out with Dennis last month and barely escaped with her thinking processes intact.

The bus arrived then and the four of them joined the crowd before the door. The boys pushed in ahead, as usual, except for Mike Hooper and Tommy Jones, who wound up right behind Keri. She tapped Amy on the shoulder and pointed behind her. Amy rolled her eyes and grimaced.

Keri stepped up the stairs finally, knowing without any doubt whatsoever that the guys' eyes were locked onto her ass and trying to see up under her miniskirt. She ignored them and followed the others down the narrow aisle to the back.

The bus filled up quickly and then started up. Keri was wedged in tightly between Amy and Tommy, not a good place to be since Tommy was a noted pervert. The bus lurched and bounced through the poorly paved streets, and Keri found herself pressed hard into Amy's side, her right breast squashed against the short blonde's upper arm.

Tommy was pressed into her too, though it was his crotch not his chest. He looked casual but Keri knew he wasn't doing anything to keep himself away.

Amy leaned forward, putting her hand over her mouth and against Keri's ear. "See if you can give him a hard-on," she said.

Keri drew back, laughing and shaking her head at Amy. She leaned forward and put her mouth against the blonde's ear. "You cocktease!" she accused her friend.

Amy grinned and nodded, then pushed her backwards against Tommy.

"Forget it!" Keri said.

"Chicken!" Amy taunted.

"I don't want his dick pushing against me!"

"It's not like he can do anything about it."

"You do it."

"You're there. Besides, I'm wearing these." She meant her baggy green pants.

Amy's eyes were challenging as she looked back at her friend. Keri sighed in defeat. This was a kind of game with them and it wasn't really possible to refuse a challenge. She pursed her lips and turned slightly to bring her ass more fully against Tommy's groin. Slowly, pretending it was the bus and not her, she worked her behind back in little slapping motions against Tommy. Several times she pressed herself hard against him, then kind of rubbed her ass from side to side. It didn't take more than a minute for Tommy's pants to sport a very hard bulge.

The little white mini she was wearing was extremely thin and she could easily feel his erection pressed against her ass. She could even feel it's size and direction. It was laying down his right leg, pressed into her right buttock.

She moved a little to the right to bring his cock right up against the center of her ass, right over her ass crack and pushed back hard just as the bus bumped upward. She ignored Tommy completely of course.

Amy watched him out of the corner of her eye, also pretending to ignore him.

The bus had emptied out a little by now and Lauren and Brenda moved back to find seats. Amy grabbed Keri's wrist and pulled her after them. Tommy quickly pulled his bag over in front of his pants. His face looked flushed and hot.

Keri sat down in one of the side facing seats next to Amy, and the two of them commenced giggling madly. Brenda demanded an explanation and then started chortling as Amy whispered it. She turned and whispered to Lauren who opened her mouth in delighted reproach. They all looked at Tommy, who was just leaving through the back door. Amy whispered something to Brenda who passed it on to Amy who whispered it to Keri.

"Lauren says he missed his stop. He should have gotten off about five stops back!" She chortled gleefully.

"Boys are all sex fiends," Keri sighed.

"You just discovered that?" Amy grinned.

"Not hardly." She crossed her legs, looking frostily at the middle-aged man across from her, who was staring at them. His attention wasn't on her face so he missed the look.

Brenda got off with Lauren, then a few stops later Amy said goodbye and pulled the cord. Keri was left alone in the mostly empty bus as it made it's way further south to the largely empty industrial area around the airport. She spotted the big steel fence around her father's junkyard and yanked the bell cord, then got off. The street was pretty empty. There was nothing on the other side but waist high grass and a few trees.

Her father's junk yard, or "Salvage Center" as it said on the twenty foot high fence, occupied almost the entire street and went back at least a block. It was an enormous area, filled mostly with junked cars and small metal sheds and shacks, along with all the huge, noisy machinery necessary to turn a big family stationwagon into a two-foot-square block of metal.

Keri walked in through the big gate and passed around the tall piles of treadless rubber tires and a giant sea of mud, then walked down a narrow lane lined with automotive parts. She walked into the big steel and wood "shop" that held her home.

In front, was a giant 8-bay garage, packed with junked old cars and the pieces of hundreds of others. Through this mess was where she and her family lived -- a small wing of nine rooms that kept her father, four brothers and sister, as well as her. It wasn't exactly a palace. In fact, it was an incredibly ugly building that was freezing in winter and roasting in summer.

The only redeeming thing about it was that she had her own room. Her little sister, Jody had her own room, too. Her brothers shared their bedrooms, two in each.

Her dad had sold their "real" house when their mother had died about three years ago. He'd built this addition to the big, barn-like garage and moved them all in. It was kind of an interesting place, at least it had been when she was a kid. Now she was embarrassed to bring anyone here. It was like living in a giant, ramshackle corrugated shed.

She passed Jason, bent over one of the cars in the garage, and went in through the little door marked "Employees Only." That was basically their front door. She walked down the narrow hallway to the so-called living room and threw her bag on the chesterfield.

There was nobody there, as usual. Her dad, Jason, Mark, and Joe were all out working in the yard. Steve was still at school. She turned and went down another hall to her bedroom, then went into her own room and closed the door.

It hadn't been easy fitting in at St. Patrick's, living where she did. She was still considered a little weird by some people.

She flicked on the television, and clicked the remote control to the music station. Her dad had put together a satellite dish a while ago, and hooked it up to the televisions in the house. They never lacked for any kind of electronic toys, that was certain.

They never lacked for cars either, at least, the boys didn't. All four of her brothers had cars, and her dad had three. All of them had been junked by somebody but rebuilt by her dad and brothers. It had taken her a lot of whining and yelling before they'd finally put one together for her and it had never run properly, which was why she usually took the bus to school.

Her father was a chauvinist pig of the first order, a blue collar, hard working sexist pig who thought women were for the kitchen and the bedroom. He had been surprised she'd even wanted a car. Surely she could get a boy to drive her around, he'd said.

She sighed, and stripped off her mini skirt and blouse. Her brothers had taken after her dad, which made it practically impossible for a girl to live around here. There wasn't any alternative though, not if she wanted to finish high school and go to college.

She wasn't sure what she was going to take in college, something involving paperwork that would get her a high paying white collar job. She didn't intend to work with her hands like her father did and her mother had. She hated her father, and wasn't terribly fond of her brothers, either. She had no intention of working at some "Chicken Delight" for minimum wage for the rest of her life, however. And she certainly didn't want to stay home and do the "paperwork" for her father's business.

She stripped off her bra and panties and walked over to the dresser. She picked up a brush and began running it through her hair, examining herself in the mirror as she did. Perhaps her looks were one of the reasons why her father and brothers refused to take her seriously. They were all so ignorant and sexist that they figured any pretty girl with big breasts, a small waist, and long legs must be a dumb, helpless bimbo.

She rubbed a hand under her right breast, cupping the malleable orb gently. She had big boobs all right -- thirty- eight-D's. They were round and heavy on her chest, and attracted boys like honey did flies.

She had a gently curving waist, nicely sized hips, and a pair of magnificent legs. She turned casually. Her ass was pretty good too, she noted.

Her best feature though, was, she thought, her hair. It was long and luxuriously thick. It fell around her pretty face and dainty shoulders in cascading waves of coppery brown. She smiled, posing for the mirror. She was hot-looking, knew it, accepted it with a kind of casual nonchalance, and coped with the results as best she could. That meant a lot of wrestling with boys who thought like her family -- that a girl with big tits was an easy make.

She put on a robe and sunglasses, picked up a radio and suntan lotion, and walked down the hall to the narrow stairway that led way up to the roof.

The roof was a good fifty feet above the yard, and covered in little stones and tarpaper. She set her things down and pulled out the lawnchair she kept up here, then unfolded it and took off her robe. She propped a two by four under the doorknob to keep any of her brothers from coming up and settled down to get an all over tan.

She picked up the lotion and spilled it onto her palm, then slowly began rubbing it onto her body. She oiled up her shoulders and chest, rolling her hand in slow circles over her breasts until they gleamed in the sunlight. She poured some on her legs and ran her hand up and down the long, lithe limb, then did the same to the other. She lay back and poured some on her belly, sighing as the coolish liquid pooled and then dribbled down over her belly button and into her pubic hair.

Her hand went to her crotch, catching the oil before it slid off. She started rubbing it over her belly, then down her hips and thighs. Her oiled hand glided across her soft warm skin, sliding down between her legs to rub easily across her pubic mound. He fingers felt the shallow indentation of her cleft as they passed over it. She straightened her index finger and pressed it between her pussy-lips, sawing it back and forth indifferently.

She thought about Tommy Jones and what she'd done on the bus. She knew, she absolutely, positively knew, that he would masturbate while thinking about her, that he would jerk-off as he fucked her senseless in his mind. She wondered if he'd do it in the shower after school or wait until he went to bed tonight. Maybe he was jerking-off even now, thinking about her beneath him, legs spread, breasts swollen...