Arvada, Colorado

Friday, June, 26^th 2015

The musty scent of pine and the clatter of camping gear filled the air as Tina’s parents bustled about, finalizing preparations for their weekend escape to nature. Her father, a rugged man with calloused hands that spoke of his love for outdoor adventures, paused in his methodical packing to flash a warm, cautionary smile at her.

“Tina, have fun, but don’t go inviting Jason over while we’re gone,” he said, hoisting a cooler into the trunk.

“Of course, Dad,” Tina replied, rolling her eyes playfully. She knew her father’s warnings were only half-serious; he liked Jason well enough.

Her mother, more meticulous and with a keen eye for detail, emerged from the house, double-checking her mental list of necessities. She stopped before Tina, fixing her with a stern look that softened at the edges.

“And no parties, young lady. You can watch TV or a movie—nothing racy—or you know we’ll find out,” she added, her tone implying an arsenal of maternal surveillance even when absent.

“Promise, Mom,” Tina said, crossing her heart in mock solemnity. Her parents exchanged knowing glances, not truly concerned. Tina’s capacity for mischief was limited without a driver’s license.

Their camping adventures were really getaways to a retreat for swingers. It was one of many things that Tina hadn’t a clue about her parents.

Once the car disappeared down the driveway, the silence in the house seemed to amplify. Tina didn’t take long to reach for her phone, texting rapidly before pressing it to her ear. The ringtone echoed against the walls until Jason with a less than cheerful, “Hello.”

“Hey, babe! Guess what? I’ve got the house all to myself for the entire weekend,” Tina chirped, hoping the excitement in her voice would be contagious.

“Ah, that’s awesome, T, but I’m grounded. My parents are also heading out, but my sister’s staying, and she’s on snitch duty.” Jason’s tone instantly deflated her buoyant mood.

“Seriously? Just sneak out; she won’t notice.” Tina’s words carried a hint of challenge, prodding him to be daring for once.

“Can’t risk it,” Jason sighed, “you know how it is.”

“God, you’re such a wimp, Jason!” Tina’s frustration surged, bubbling up like a geyser. Her hand tightened around the phone, knuckles whitening.

“I’m not a wimp. I’m just ... stuck,” he protested weakly.

“Whatever, Jason.”

The line went dead with a swipe of her finger. Her patience evaporated. Now alone with the weight of a squashed plan and untamed teenage indignation, Tina felt the sting of resentment as she tossed her phone onto the sofa.

“Great,” she muttered to herself, “just great. And I was going to let him play with my boobies and give him a hand job with lotion. Stupid jock.”

Turning on the TV, Tina backed away, using the remote to flip through channels. Stopping on one, she watched as she edged closer and closer to the divan. Tina sprawled on the couch. She moved on to another channel and another. The flickering blue light of the television cast ghostly shadows across the room.

She flipped through channels aimlessly, letting sitcom laugh tracks and dramatic music scores wash over her in a meaningless cacophony. With a huff, frustration sat in, and she abandoned the remote.

Plugging earbuds into her ears and letting her favorite playlist shuffle. The familiar beats did little to ease the gnawing boredom. She watched a movie with the sound off, taking in the sights while listening to music.

“Boring,” she said to no one. Tina shut the television off and tossed the remote on the end table. She stared at a blank screen, thinking about her boyfriend and getting angry all over again.

An hour slipped by, then another, and the music became dull as Tina picked up a novel from the coffee table. The words blurred together, and sentences failed miserably to capture her wandering attention. She tossed the book aside, a yawn escaping her lips as she glanced at the clock.

“Ten pm, on Friday night, and I’m stuck at home. Why?”

With resignation, she plodded toward her bedroom, the day’s disappointments dragging her down like a heavy cloak. Undressing, she gazed at her body in the mirror. She loved her body, caressing her breasts, now more than they’d been two months before.

Tina was a late bloomer.

A year ago, they were triple As. Three months ago, double As, and now her beasts were actual A cups. They were hard and hurt most of the time because they were growing. Here areolas were hard and humped up, and her nipples were constantly erect.

‘Tina, you sexy, sexy bitch,’ she thought.

“See what you missed, Jason. If you touched them softly, kissed them, and sucked my nipples, you could have gotten a hand job.” Opening a chat window to Jason, she took a quick video of her hand moving like she was jerking him and showing her bare breast. She typed a caption, ‘See what you missed, JERK!’

She hesitated. Tina had never shown him her breasts before. She tapped send, and off it went. About the length of the video later, her phone buzzed.

‘OMG, you’re so sexy,’ Jason texted.

‘So, sneak out and come over.’

‘Can’t, sis would know, rat me out.’

‘Some older man you are. A 15-year-old afraid of his sister. I think you’re a sissy.’

‘Don’t be mean,’ he ended the text with a frowny face.

‘Pussy boy loser.’

Throwing the phone on the bed, Tina left the room, went to the bathroom, and took a shower. While she showered, Jason sent text after text asking her to forgive him. But he never received an answer.

After she cleaned her body, Tina removed the massage shower head and twisted it until it throbbed a vibrating stream out in a single jet. Sliding it down her body, she let it spay over her sparse pubic hair, then went lower and assaulted her clit.

Waves of pleasure went through her body and slid down the wall into the floor of the shower. She held it there, thrumming her clit, as waves of pleasure coursed through her tiny body. The fourteen-year-old moaned and rolled around for five minutes.

The warm, pulsating water sent rapturous waves cascading through her body.

She let go of the shower head and lay on the tile floor until the streaming water turned frigid. She stood, returned the setting to normal, shut off the water, and remounted the head. Once she dried herself, she went to bed and snuggled up with her giant teddy bear. Putting one of his feet between her legs, she clamped her thighs around it and hugged him.

“Teddy, you’re the only real man I know,” she said, whispering into his ear and humping his fat foot until a new climax took her away. Then Tina willed herself to sleep.

But sleep came begrudgingly. Dreams flitted in and out of coherence until suddenly, at 2:30 am, Tina’s eyes snapped open. A restless energy coursed through her veins. Jason’s face floated in her mind’s eye, his smile beckoning her. A reckless plan rooted its way into her brain. Tina would drive to his house, tap on his window, and steal moments together away from prying eyes.

Sitting up, she picked up the phone and saw his fifty missed messages. All were pathetic and begged her for forgiveness.

“Such a wussy. If Jason won’t come to Tina, Tina must go to Jason.”

In a rush of adrenaline, Tina slid out of bed and rummaged through her drawers. She pulled out a see-through nightshirt she hadn’t worn since she was 12, and the moonlight made the material shimmer. Then she looked for the perfect pants.

‘No, wait, shorts.’

Tina paired it with a two-year-old pair of cutoff jeans, which barely covered her ass. Feeling a thrill of defiance as she left her undergarments behind. Both the top and cutoffs were too small and clung to her like a second skin.

Before the mirror, she examined her silhouette, how the fabric clung, revealed her form, and sowed her skin through its translucent fabric. A smirk curved on her lips. She was a vision of teenage rebellion. Two bullet points poked out, and her soft curves together teased the eyes.

The house felt cavernous as she tiptoed through, each step deliberate and silent. Her father’s keys glinted on the hook by the door, an invitation too tempting to resist. Slipping them into her pocket, Tina made her way to the garage, the cool concrete floor sending shivers up her bare legs. She put on the spiked heels her mother didn’t know she had.

“There you are, Mister Vet.”

Her father’s Corvette sat in the dim light, sleek and expectant. She slipped inside, and the leather seat felt cool against her skin. The engine roared to life under her tentative touch, the sound of a promise of freedom, an escape from the stifling quiet of the house. With a deep breath, the weight of potential consequences brushed aside.

Tina eased the car onto the road, the night swallowing her whole. But in the darkness of the night, there were predators.

The road stretched before Tina like a black ribbon, the purr of the engine a comforting lullaby against the quiet of the night. The power of the motor also worked magic inside her. The moisture spread and seeped from her. It felt so good.

As he moved through the empty streets, she did so with confidence. The initial jittery nerves settled into a determined focus. The lights of town faded into the rearview mirror as she approached the outskirts, where the landscape opened up to fields and the occasional farmhouse.

At that point, she noticed a set of headlights behind her, distant at first but growing steadily closer. Tina’s pulse quickened. She hadn’t considered the possibility of company on these deserted roads. She kept her eyes forward, trying to appear casual, just another late-night traveler with every right to be there.

Deputy Sheriff Rick Mansard’s cruiser quickly closed the gap between them, his trained eyes taking in the sleek lines of the sports car. He ran the plates as he followed. The radio crackled with the response. Belonging to a wealthy man, age 34—yet clearly not the one behind the wheel at this ungodly hour. A furrow creased his brow as he contemplated the circumstances.

“No wants or warrants. Want me to list you as on duty for this stop, Rick?” the dispatcher’s voice held a hint of procedural formality.

“No,” he said tersely, his gut telling him there was an opportunity here. “No need to stop it.”

If the car wasn’t reported stolen, there was likely a personal story to unravel. Tonight might prove more enjoyable than going home and having a few beers before bed. The driver sped up, slowed, and turned off the highway on a private road. When the Vet caught his attention, it was because the driver wasn’t old enough to be driving, let alone an 80,000-dollar-plus car.

Rick’s thumb played over the switch for his lights, anticipation building within him.

Tina’s heart hammered in her chest as the cruiser’s lights splashed red and blue across the rearview mirror, painting her face in stark, alternating colors. With a muttered curse, she slowed the sports car to a crawl. She’d turned off onto the private dirt road that led to Jason’s parents’ ranch, and dust billowed behind her. The deputy followed close behind her. His vehicle’s presence was an unyielding specter in the night. Her mind raced with excuses, each feebler than the last.

The siren blasted, and he flashed his headlights.

“Act cool, Tina,” she said in a soft whisper to herself. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling hands on the wheel. The car rolled to a stop, and she killed the engine. The silence of the night was filled with the sound of boots crunching on gravel as Deputy Sheriff Rick Mansard made his approach. Tina watched him through the window, his silhouette firm and authoritative against the backdrop of flashing lights.

He rapped on the glass, a stern look etched across his face. Tina forced a smile, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and lowered the window.

“I ... um, is sum-thing wrong, officer?” she asked, voice laced with feigned innocence.

Rick Mansard leaned down, his eyes scrutinizing her youthful appearance.

“Yes,” he replied firmly. “There’s a curfew for anyone under 18, and I’m very certain you’re under 18. Registration, proof of insurance, and Driver’s License.”

“Uh, right.” Tina’s fingers fumbled for the glove box, flipping it open to reveal the neatly arranged documents. She handed over the registration and proof of insurance, but not without a nervous flutter in her stomach.

“I don’t have a License yet, sir. But I am 18,” she said, letting the words hang between them while she twirled her hair once more. A flirtatious gesture she hoped might diffuse the tension.

Leaning out from the window, her posture suggestively casual, Tina pressed her point. Allowing her body to talk to him.

“Can’t we let this go with a verbal warning this time?” Her eyes sought his, looking for any sign of leniency in the officer’s stoic expression. She rose and moved out further, sticking her chest toward him.

It was a cool night, 63 degrees, and the breeze hardened her permanently stiff nipples more, and they pressed toward him, stretching the thin fabric. Two peaks of interest far more beautiful than the mountains to the west.

Rick’s fingers fumbled, and the cards slipped from his grasp and fluttered to the ground like leaves in autumn. This was going to be easier than he thought.

Tina’s breath hitched as he brushed his hand on her cheek. The warmth of his palm oddly reassuring against her cool skin. Without warning, his lips found hers in an audacious kiss, his mouth opening to invite a deeper connection.

For a moment, suspended in disbelief, Tina responded instinctively.

The idea flickered through her mind that maybe this was just a bizarre rite of passage. A story she’d share with Jason later, laughing about the crazy night when Deputy Mansard let her off with a kiss. His tongue intertwined with hers, an invasive dance that was strangely exhilarating.

But the fleeting thrill began to wane as his grip tightened. Once a gentle touch, Rick’s hand now secured a possessive hold at the back of Tina’s head, drawing her closer still. His other arm encircled her waist, and she could feel the solid mass of his body pressing against hers, the barrier between them thinning dangerously.

The kiss morphed into something far more suffocating than sweet. Tina’s senses screamed an alarm. Her initial compliance soured into panic. She tried to wriggle free, to put space between her petite frame and his imposing one, but it was futile. He clutched her even tighter, an unyielding vice pulling her through the car window and moving behind the door, pressing her back against the car. She was trapped against the vehicle’s side, her back pressed to the cold fiberglass.