Chapter 4

NUMBER TWO:

The blue Plymouth Valiant drove steadily through the mostly deserted night streets of Bakersville, its headlights cutting a swath through the surrounding darkness. Inside, Barry Packard could barely believe his luck. He snuck a glance to his right, trying not to be too obvious about it. Sitting beside him, in the passenger seat, was - unbelievably - Stacy Richards, easily the most beautiful girl in school (in Barry's opinion). She sat quietly, staring straight ahead through the front window as the car rolled along, her perfect features lit intermittently by the passing street lights. She had seemed a little quiet and nervous the entire evening, leading Barry to worry that she was bored or unhappy with him - Barry was neither confident nor particularly successful with girls - but when he had apologised and offered to take her home, she had insisted that she was having a good time, and didn't want to go home.

In fact, it had been her idea that they head down to the beach. THE BEACH! That was the prime "make-out" spot for the teenagers of Bakersville. On any given night, there would usually be at least a handful of cars parked alongside the long dirt road which traced the coastline to the south of the town. Barry had never dreamed that one day he would be taking Stacy Richards there (actually, he had "dreamed" about it several times; he had just never imagined that it would really happen).

Barry steered the car off the paved section of the street and onto the bumpier dirt road which ran alongside the beach. In reality, Barry had never expected that he would ever go on a date with Stacy. Her kind was usually reserved for the star of the football team, or some other equivalent sports hero, and even then only for the duration of his fame. Barry, on the other hand, was a second-string lineman, only put into the game when the result was no longer in doubt. In fact, he really didn't even like football. He was certainly not particularly ugly or unpopular, but girls like Stacy were usually so far above his particular level in the school social strata that he could only dream of going out with her. It had been a matter of pride with Barry that he had gathered the nerve to ask her out last summer, and although she had turned him down at the time, she had been less cruel about it than she could have been. Still, he had been more than a little surprised when Stacy had called him up last week and suggested a Saturday-night date.

He had even half-expected that it would all turn out to be some kind of a joke, but when he had arrived at her house to pick her up, she had indeed been waiting for him, a vision of beauty in her short skirt and light blouse. She hadn't seemed overly friendly or talkative, but Barry didn't know enough about her to know whether or not this was her usual behaviour. Still, the movie and dinner had gone off OK, and, of course, it had been her suggestion that they drive down to the beach afterwards. Even as he drove along the beach road, Barry still couldn't believe it. His cock bulged pleasurably in his pants as he steered the car around a bend in the road.

"How about here?" he asked, trying, but not quite succeeding, to sound casual. His voice was hoarse and dry. He had picked a fairly popular spot about half a mile along the road; there was another car parked a couple of hundred yards away.

Stacy shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering in the starlight. "Further along," she said quietly.

Barry shrugged and drove the car further along the road, passing through and then leaving behind all of the more popular and well-used spots. The road was almost deserted, which was unusual for a Saturday night, but the weather had been turning a little cold lately. In fact, Barry had seen Stacy shivering a little earlier while they had been walking out of the restaurant. He had noted that she was dressed quite lightly for November. Even this far south, the weather began to cool down by this time of the year.

Twenty minutes later, Barry had parked the car in a suitably secluded spot; there had been no one else on the road for the last three miles. The night fell briefly silent as the car engine was shut off, but the sound of the breakers crashing against the shoreline quickly became apparent as the two teenagers sat for a few moments in awkward silence. Barry was too nervous to start anything, and Stacy just sat there, staring out over the dark, black water.

Barry could take it no longer. "Well..." He started to say something, but was interrupted by the feel of Stacy's hand against his. His throat constricted and his heart skipped a beat as she slid across the seat and wrapped her arm over his shoulder. She put her hand on his face and turned it towards her. She was so beautiful in the starlight!

"K-kiss me," she whispered, her voice shaking. She sounded curiously reluctant, almost frightened. Barry, however, didn't notice and probably wouldn't have cared if he had noticed. This was a dream come true. He pulled her slim body towards himself on the car seat and crushed his mouth to hers. After a brief hesitation, her lips parted, allowing him to slip his tongue into her waiting mouth. She wasn't kissing him back, though; she merely accepted his advances passively as she sat beside him on the car seat. Barry, sensing her reticence, pulled away, breaking the kiss.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, short of breath. Stacy bit her lower lip before answering. In the light, it looked to Barry as if she was about to cry, but she just shook her head. Satisfied, Barry leaned forward again. This time, she participated, crushing her lips against his and moving her tongue around in response to his advances. Soon, the two teenagers were necking vigorously in the front seat of the car as the windows began to steam up.

A few moments later, Barry felt Stacy touch his hand and then guide it slowly to her breasts. He responded by squeezing and fondling them through the thin fabric of her blouse. Barry could barely believe what was happening! Daringly, he pulled open the buttons on her blouse; a couple of buttons broke free and fell to the seat, but Barry didn't notice. Stacy didn't react. He slipped his hand in and under her bra, cupping her breast. He half-expected her to put a halt to it, but she just continued kissing him. Gaining confidence, he reached around with his other hand and unclipped the back of the bra. It fell away under her unbuttoned blouse, leaving her breasts almost fully exposed to his hands and eyes. Stacy tensed, but did not object or pull away.

Instead, she reached down and ran her fingers along the now-conspicuous bulge in his jeans. Barry gasped; could this really be happening? He pulled back and looked over at Stacy. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open; she seemed to be breathing hard, but it was difficult for Barry to tell in the weak starlight. All he could see were her breasts rising and falling beneath the open blouse. Misgivings aside, he reached forward and began playing with those breasts, alternately squeezing them and then tweaking the nipples. Stacy gasped at this, but did not open her eyes.

Meanwhile, her hand was at work, sliding open his zipper and reaching inside. She pushed her hand through the already damp front of Barry's underwear and slowly worked his penis out into the open. Once again, Barry was struck with a sense of disbelief at what was happening. He had never heard of Stacy Richards acting like this, even when she was going steady with someone. Even someone popular. Nevertheless, he continued fondling the offered breasts, content to let Stacy make the next move.

That move wasn't long in coming. Stacy took a deep breath, opened her eyes and then leaned back on the seat, away from Barry. She sat back against the car door and pulled up her skirt, revealing her legs, pale and white in the starlight.

"Stacy..." Barry was suddenly unsure of himself; he had only had sex one time before, and this was largely uncharted territory for him. "Are you sure you..."

"Yes," she interrupted him, slipping her panties down her leg. "I want to... to do it... have sex w-with you." Once again, her frightened, tentative manner belied the content of her words, but the content was enough for Barry, who was already near to coming all over the car seat. He needed no more encouragement! Awkwardly, he shifted himself around so he lay atop Stacy's proffered body in the too-small car seat. He began to thrust his hips forward.

"J-just a second." Stacy shifted her position, trying to avoid having her breasts painfully crushed against Barry's chest, but it was impossible. The car seat was just too small, and Barry was lying right on top of her. Resigned, she reached down and grabbed ahold of his penis with her long, cool fingers.

"Ok... Ok... now." Stacy mumbled instructions as she guided Barry's stiff cock into her pussy. He was more than co-operative, and thrust forward vigorously when she instructed, but her pussy was still quite dry and she had to force every inch of inside her manually. Finally, it was inside. Stacy moved her hand away and squirmed around, still trying to get at least comfortable. Finally, she settled on a position, and put her arms around Barry's neck.

After that, it was all over in a few seconds. Barry began pushing his hips roughly back and forth, grating his cock in and out of her unprepared pussy. Stacy tried to find a rhythm which would minimize the pain and discomfort, but was unable to do so. A thin line of drool slipped from between Barry's lips and dribbled down onto her chest as he pumped frantically. Gasping and moaning, she lay there as he suddenly stiffened and than came inside of her with a loud grunt. Unnoticed by Barry, a tear welled up out of her eye and slid down the side of her face.

Finally, he relaxed, spent. As she lay there, crushed beneath his weight, she could feel his penis shrivelling up inside her burning pussy as the warm sperm began leaking out and down the inside of her thigh...

Gary hung up the phone just as Sharon entered his bedroom. He was sitting in front of his computer which in turn sat on top of a desk in the far corner of his room. He nodded a indifferent greeting to her, and immediately began entering information into some sort of database program as Sharon walked forward. She came to a halt just behind him, putting her hands onto his shoulders.

"What'cha up to?" He seemed to be entering some names and dates into little boxes on the screen (Sharon knew almost nothing about computers).

"That was Stacy on the phone," he answered, still working. "She's fucked two guys since last week. I'm just entering it into the system."

System? Sharon leaned in closer to the screen, suddenly interested. "Numbers two and three! Tell me about it."

"Number two was Barry Packard." He fiddled with his mouse and then punched the return button on the computer; a new screen was called up. This screen held a name, a date and other information, including a small picture, obviously taken (scanned, although Sharon didn't know this) from the school yearbook. "Barry Packard." Gary pointed to that name at the top of the screen, and slowly read off the information as it appeared. "Fucked on Saturday, Nov.6; it occurred in the front seat of his car, which was parked down by the beach. Apparently, he came in about 20 seconds. Can't blame him, I suppose."

Sharon laughed. "Number three?"

Gary pushed another button, and another list of information appeared. "Grant Hardin." Sharon stifled a giggle at his name as Grant's digitized picture stared sombrely out of the top left-hand corner of the computer screen. He had a big nose. "Fucked on Tuesday, Nov.9 in his bedroom. He also came very quickly. He called out the name 'Susan' when he came."

Sharon laughed again. "Seems there's not too many boys around who can restrain themselves with Stacy Richards. She must be a good fuck."

Gary just shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see."

"Perhaps we'll have to find her some real men," Sharon suggested. Gary looked intrigued at this suggestion, but didn't say anything. Sharon moved away sat down on the side of his bed, pulling out a cigarette. He noticed that she had a small paper bag with her.

"What's that?" he asked, as she lit up and took a long, satisfied drag.

"Oh, just a little something for Stacy," she smirked. "A little present to celebrate her success at the game." She reached into the bag and pulled out...

NUMBER FOUR:

"You bastard!" Stacy cried. "You fucking bastard!" She lay on her back on the leather couch in her parent's living room, her shirt and fingers sticky with sperm. She brushed her hands against the front of her shirt in a futile effort to wipe herself clean, but that only seemed to smear the warm, sticky fluid more evenly down her front. She began to cry, involuntarily bringing a hand up to her face to cover her eyes. When she took the hand away, her eyelid and cheek glistened with sperm.

Toby Hooper, a tall, gangly nineteen year-old, had jumped back off of her after prematurely ejaculating. His already freckled face turned bright red with embarrassment as he fumbled to push his sticky cock back into his pants. "Jesus... I'm sorry," he apologized, zipping up his jeans. "I d-didn't mean to..."

"Just fuck off and get out of here!" Stacy screamed at him. "Get out!" Tears ran down her face, mixing with the quickly congealing sperm on her cheeks.

Toby, his pants now securely fastened, continued to stammer out incoherent apologies as he picked up his paper-sack and scurried out of the house. Outside, he jumped onto his bike and pedalled furiously away.

Behind him, Stacy continued to cry on the couch, her blonde hair in disarray and her shirt and face coated with his quickly drying sperm.

To Stacy, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity when Toby had come collecting money that Saturday morning for his paper route. She considered him to be, like, a total loser at school (as well as being a grade behind her) and did not find him the least bit attractive, with his messy red hair and freckles, but he was a student at Greenwood. From her present, unwelcome perspective, that was enough. Her parents were away on one of their weekend "getaways", so Stacy had been all alone in the house when he came by.