Chapter 10

The rest of October and into November went swimmingly. Sheila had another meet-all the way in the Ukraine-at the beginning of November, but we still managed to spend a lot of time together. The football team was undefeated. I found I had a widening circle of friends. Sheila and I got known around school as a "couple" and nobody batted an eye-not even her friends. Andrea-Sheila's roommate--and I hit it off as well as Sheila and Jake had. It was quite amazing.

In the middle of November, we were in my room, studying, when Sheila said, "Bren, are you going home for Thanksgiving?"

"Nope. Too far and not enough time to drive, too expensive to fly. I won't be going home until Christmas."

"That's what I thought. Look, I talked to my Mom today, and we agree. I'd love to have you come home to San Diego with me for Thanksgiving, and Mom and Dad would love to have you."

"Woah," I laughed. "Meet the parents time. We're getting serious now."

"Well, yes, I want them to meet you," she laughed, "but I also hate the thought of you spending Thanksgiving in a stupid dorm."

"Great. I'd love to come."

"Good. Then I can parade you around to all my old friends, too," she giggled. I stiffened, and-since she had wrapped her arm around mine-she felt it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied.

"Brendan, don't give me that shit. Talk to me."

"Well," I said, "didn't you say you hung around with the popular clique?"

"Ah, so that's it," she said. "Don't worry. I'm introducing you as my boyfriend, and you'll do fine. And my friends will be on their best behavior. I can kick all their asses, too," she grinned.

I cracked up laughing. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Yup," she agreed happily. "This will be fine, I promise." She took a breath. "Bren? I love you, you know."

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I got dizzy. I couldn't see anything except her eyes.

Somehow I managed to say it. "I love you, too." Because I did. She beamed at me, and all I could feel was pure, unadulterated joy.

Usually she was the one to initiate physical stuff. She usually kissed me first, stuff like that. Not this time. I took her in my arms, rocked her back onto my bed, and kissed her brains out. While frantically ripping off her clothes. She moaned and squirmed beneath me as I fondled her breasts. Then, as usual, I suckled on them. Then I moved away. There was something I wanted to try.

I used Jake as a sounding-board. He was discreet-at least about what we discussed-knowledgeable, and didn't laugh at me asking questions he probably could've answered when he was thirteen. And one piece of advice had come up in conversation the other day. "You've never gone down on her?" he had asked. "You should. Girls love that. Tongues are better than fingers-I've never met a girl that'd disagree."

So, I was fondling her pussy with my hand, but I disengaged my mouth from her breast. I quietly slipped down her body-her eyes were closed, and she was panting under my hand-and moved into position. Then I took my hand away, and ran my tongue right up the length of her pussy, flicking her clit.

She yelped. And sat up straight, eyes wide open in stunned disbelief.

"Brendan? What are-OOOOOH! What are you doing--AYIIEEEEEE! Oh GOOOODDDD!!!" And she flopped back onto the bed.

I stopped. "What does it look like I'm doing?" I chuckled.

"Oh God whatever it is DON"T STOP!!!" I didn't. It took a very short time before she came like a freight train. And it was the loudest I'd ever heard her.

As she came down, I climbed up next to her. "Ooooohhhhhh," she groaned, then looked at me. "Oh God, Brendan, where did you pick that one up?"

"I don't know."

"Brendan," she said, looking at me. Damn, she always knew when I was evading a question.