Part 3: To Have, and To Hold

Everything changed for me after the big fight. Brian's nose was messed up pretty bad and, at first, his dad threatened to sue us. But there were fifty witnesses who said that Trent was the one who broke it, and the police were trying to get me to press charges against Brian, Aaron and Trent for hitting me, and Jake for throwing the beer can at my head.

Principal Howard said that if there were criminal charges pending he might not let any of them play sports, which could screw up college scholarships for Trent, Aaron and Jake. And so, in the end, we all agreed to just drop it.

I guess I was a hero to a lot of the normal kids after that. Standing up to Trent and the others was a part of it, but fucking the hottest girl in the school helped, too. I didn't talk about it, but everyone knew. They could tell by the way we acted when we were together. Justine and I were in love, and it was fantastic. It should have been enough for both of us, and for a while it was.

All the trouble started because I was a nerd dating a really popular girl. But, before I knew it, I wasn't a nerd any more. Everyone liked me—even most of the athletes. I got invited to everything, and not just because I was bringing Justine.

Sundar got popular too. He stopped dating Katrina after a couple of weeks, but not because of any problems. His parents wanted him to date Indian girls, and he tried to keep them happy. He and Katrina still fucked sometimes—usually in the newspaper office when Justine and I weren't using it. Being on the newspaper staff was suddenly the hot thing to do, and we had to turn people away.

My family went to Justine's house for Thanksgiving dinner. My dad and mom hit it off pretty well with Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, who kept saying what a good influence I was on Justine. The house was huge, and they even had a couple of servants helping with the meal. My kid sister Becky was happy, too, because Justine had a little sister the same age.

Anyway, right after dinner, Justine's dad brought up the trip to Europe. The school was sponsoring it and I knew about it because of the article I wrote for the newspaper.

"We'd feel a lot better if you went, Russell," her dad said.

"I don't think I can," I said, glancing at my parents. "You had to sign up months ago."

Plus it cost thousands of dollars, which was why only the rich kids were going.

"I understand that they've had some cancellations," Mrs. Wilson said.

"That's right. Brian has to stay home because of the surgery so Shelly cancelled too," said Justine, suppressing a smile. "And Trent and Aaron decided to go skiing instead."

"Well, there you have it!" Mr. Wilson said.

"How much does this trip cost, Russell?" My dad asked. He hadn't got the promotion he wanted, so money was kind of tight.

"We were hoping you'd let us pay for it," Justine's mom said. "After all, it was our idea, and..."

"And I told them I wouldn't go unless Russell went too," Justine said, squeezing my hand under the table. I looked at her, stunned.

"Besides, with all the problems overseas these days we'd sleep better knowing Russell was looking after our little girl for us," her dad said.

Justine started massaging my cock through my slacks. I scooted a little closer to the tablecloth and tried to act naturally.

"Please, we'd consider it a huge favor," Justine's mom said.

"Russell, what do you think?" my dad asked. I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward as Justine unzipped my slacks and slid her hand inside.

"I think it would be, uh... great," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I could pay for part of it out of my savings. And it would be really... educational."

Justine's sister and Becky started giggling.

"Yeah. When they get to France they can learn more about kissing!"

"Jessie! I swear I'm going to strangle you!" Justine said. She squeezed my dick really hard and I almost yelped.

"Girls, we have guests," Mr. Wilson said, then stood up. "That settles it on the trip, then. I'll give Ray a tour of the wine cellar and we'll pick out a dessert wine to go with that pie."

As my dad jumped up to follow Mr. Wilson, I extracted Justine's hand from my pants and zipped up. Justine faked a pout, then grinned. "I could use a break before dessert, too. Mom, I'll take Russell up to my room and show him the materials for the trip," she said.

"That's fine, dear. But don't be too long."

I stood, glad I was wearing a sports coat to cover my boner, and Justine pulled me toward a big staircase. Becky and Jessie puckered up and made kissing noises, then started giggling uncontrollably. Justine pretended to ignore them.

"Was I that annoying when I was fourteen?" she asked, as we headed down a hallway past a dozen doorways. Many were bedrooms that looked like no one slept in them.

"All I can remember from back then is that you had a great butt," I said.

"I don't now?"

"No. Now you have a perfect butt."

"Perfect for what?" Justine asked, leading me into her room.

It was twice the size of mine, and she had gadgets to kill for. One of those big televisions you can hang on the wall hooked up to a home theatre system and an amazing computer—all wireless. But the room still felt cozy, and lived-in. The queen-sized bed was covered with stuffed animals.

"Perfect for what?" she repeated, as she closed and locked the door. She was wearing a white cashmere sweater and a short skirt—wool plaid, in muted tones. She unhooked the skirt and let it drop. The sweater left a few inches of her lower tummy showing above white satin thong panties.

"Well, for looking at," I said, swallowing hard.

She hooked her hands behind my neck and pulled her legs up as my hands slid to her ass to support her.

"What else?" she whispered.

"Squeezing."

"What else?" Justine was nibbling and sucking on my ear lobe.

"I'll show you."

I carried Justine to the bed and set her down on her hands and knees. I pulled the thong down just enough and pushed the sweater up, stroking her smooth lower back and flanks.

"Hurry!" she whispered.

I let my slacks drop and pushed my underpants down. I was still hard from when she was fondling me under the dinner table. She arched her back a little, and pushed her ass against my hips. I pressed against her, letting my cock slide in the crack of her butt before the head found her center. I could feel her heat and wetness. She picked up a little stuffed bear and bit down its arm as I shoved my dick into her slowly. I savored the smooth, tight bliss of penetration.

I pulled back and then impaled her again, slowly. Justine moaned. The sound was muffled by the mouthful of stuffed bear. She looked back at me, eyes wild, nodding.

The bed creaked a little as I picked up the pace and started fucking her hard. Justine dropped to her elbows, and let her arms splay out. She gripped handfuls of the thick comforter.

I slid my hands under her bra on the sides, then cupped her tits. I'd been touching them almost non-stop for a month, but each time was still special. I loved the way they filled my hands, the way the heavy softness moved as I squeezed, the way the hard nipples rubbed against my palms. It sounds strange, but it still amazed me to think 'These are Justine Wilson's tits!'

The bed was creaking louder, Justine's body was moving with mine. She thrust her butt against me with each stroke. The muffled moans were higher pitched, and faster. As I fucked her, I was listening for noises in the hall—it was weird that her parents were right downstairs, both of our families. Weird, but exciting.

I let go of Justine's tits, grabbed her hips, and thrust into her as hard as I could. Her ass cheeks were red from the pounding and everything was wet—my balls, her thighs, and mine. The thong was at her knees, stretched tight. The cute little lacy triangle of fabric quivered as I slammed my cock in again and again...

I came hard, digging my fingers into her butt. A second later, Justine came too. Her wail was loud despite the teddy bear. I leaned over her, holding her body as the orgasm—jerky spasms accompanied by muffled moans of pleasure—rolled through her. Her pussy clenched around my cock as it pumped out the last of my load. Our bodies were still rocking gently with the involuntary motion of the fucking.

Finally, we collapsed onto the bed, hugging. My fingers stroked her face.

"Jesus. How could anyone ever get tired of that?" I whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"They say people do. Tom Cruise got tired of fucking Nicole Kidman. Go figure."

"You think you ever will?"

"Never. Not in a million years." I kissed her gently, my lips stroking hers.

"Good answer," she said, then smiled. "How many times is that?"

I grinned. "Twenty-two. Twenty-three if you count yesterday in the car."

"Why wouldn't we count it?"

"I came, but you didn't."

"It was a blowjob, silly. But I had fun. Let's count it."

"I love you, Justine."

"I love you, too," she whispered, then kissed me. "But we better get back downstairs, before they send a search party. Becky and Jessie would love to catch us like this."

"I bet they would!"

We finished exams the second week in December. Justine made honor roll for the first time in four years. She was thrilled, and so were her parents. Her dad gave her a new digital camera and upgraded our tickets for Europe to first class. Her mom hugged me and told me she wished I had a brother Jessie's age.

We left the next week. We flew to New York first, then to London. The flights were great, especially being in first class. They served us real meals, and the seats reclined way back so we could sleep. Justine climbed over and shared mine so we could snuggle under the little airline blanket. We watched part of a dumb movie about some weird rich guy who built airplanes and dated movie stars. The movie stars were hot though, and Justine gave me a hand job under the blanket.

We only had a day in London, but we went so many places that it was hard to remember them. Westminster Abbey—which is a big mausoleum full of famous dead British people—and Parliament, and the Tower of London—which was pretty neat because of the dungeons where they tortured people. Then we spent a couple of hours at the British Museum looking at all the stuff they stole from the places they conquered when it was the British Empire.

I'd been a little worried about getting along with some of the kids, but being so far from home seemed to make people forget about old resentment, and differences. Most of the time we hung out with Jake, Katrina and Molly. For my hotel room I got paired with an all-State swimmer named Brendan Kelly, which worked out well. Justine was with Katrina, who thought Brendan was hot, so we switched roommates. We had four teachers along as chaperones, but they didn't do bed checks or anything.

That was the first time I was with Justine all night, and it was fantastic even though we didn't sleep much. I loved waking up holding her, and having morning sex for the first time. Showering together was great, too.

Then we flew to Paris, for another whirlwind of landmarks. We went to the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, which is bigger than you might think, then to Notre Dame Cathedral and to this huge building where Napoleon is buried. By the time we got to the Louvre, I was pretty tired. We found the Mona Lisa, which is smaller than you might think.

We had a couple of hours before dinner, and all the girls wanted to go shopping. I went back to our hotel and took a nap.

Dinner was really good. Justine and I sat at a table with Molly and Jake, and we got along great. Justine and Molly both spent a fortune shopping for clothes, including dresses for the senior prom made by some famous French designer.

The waiter let us have wine because in France they let everyone drink. We had three bottles and, by the time we finished dessert, we were all pretty smashed. Molly was sitting across from me wearing a really low-cut top and no bra. It was hard not to stare because she's got huge tits and it was hot how they touched in the middle.

Justine and I slept together again, but this time we only fucked twice because we were both tired. I woke up a couple of times in the night and it was cool to see her sleeping next to me, her hair on the pillow and the warmth of her body next to mine. Her face looked younger when she was sleeping and it reminded me of when we were in the sixth grade, and the crush I had on her then. I almost woke her up for sex, but my dick was still sore from the night before, so I decided to wait until morning.

We took a train to Nice—the one that goes two hundred miles an hour. After they served breakfast, Justine went to find a bathroom. I was getting ready to take a nap when Molly came over and sat next to me.

"Hey, Russell. How's it hanging?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, just a little joke," she said, smiling. "Only I understand it's not that little."

I blushed. I wasn't sure what to say.

"Anyway, I wanted to say I was sorry," she said. "I was wrong about you before."

"That's okay, Molly. I couldn't believe that Justine liked me at first, either."

"Justine's a lucky girl. So, we're cool?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, and held out my hand. She brushed it aside and kissed me on the cheek as she stood up.

"Goody. I hope we can be real good friends," she whispered. She was close enough that I could smell her skin, fresh and clean.

She walked down the aisle slowly. Her thick, dark hair brushed her bare shoulders. Molly was shorter than Justine, with wider hips and a cute little round butt. The tube top she had on left her midriff bare, and it was amazing how small her waist was. When she got to the end of the car, she turned and caught me staring. She put two fingers to her lips and blew me a kiss.

When Justine came back she was carrying a couple of bottles of water and talking on her cell phone. She plopped down in her seat and handed me a bottle and the phone.

"Daddy wants to say 'Hi'."

"Hello... Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes, Russell. Justine said you're having fun. You'll love Nice. You have to check out the Colline du Chateau—it's gorgeous this time of year," he said, voice booming out of the tiny phone.

"We'll be sure to do that, thanks."

"Are you taking good care of my little girl?"

"Yes, of course!" I said, feeling a little guilty. The skin on the sides of my dick is worn off from fucking her so much.

"Good, good. I'm counting on you, Russell."

He hung up, and I handed to phone back to Justine.

I took a drink of water, thinking.

"Do you think your parents know we're screwing?" I asked.

"Mom does. I mean she knows I've had sex, and she knows how close we are. I think Daddy tries not to think about it."

I nodded, then looked out the window for a while.

"You're awfully serious. What are you thinking about?" Justine asked.

"Nothing. I'm just a little tired," I replied, smiling. "By the way, Molly came by while you were gone."

"Molly? What did she want?"

"She was nice. She apologized, and said she wanted to be friends."

Justine frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's just that, well... Molly and I have been friends since we were like thirteen, and she's okay, but everything's always about Molly," Justine said. "You have to be careful with her."

"I'll remember that."

"Still love me?" she asked.

"Always," I replied, and we snuggled for the rest of the train ride.

Nice was beautiful, and it was nice not to be in a huge city. The air smelled clean, and the water of the Mediterranean was blue, and there were beautiful people everywhere you looked. It was like being in one of those shows on Fox, like 90210 or Orange County, except everyone was speaking French.

We spent the rest of the morning going to some contemporary art museums, which was okay. Then we went to that Colline du Chateau place that Mr. Wilson talked about. It turned out to be a park and it was cool, with a waterfall and lots of trees and some ruins from the Middle Ages. Justine and I walked a lot and then a bunch of us had a picnic lunch we bought in the market—bread, cheese, fruit and lots of wine.

That afternoon was free time. The teachers all went to another art museum, but most of the kids went to the beach at Cote d'Azur. The beach was pretty, but the water wasn't as clean as at the beaches in Florida and there were way too many guys wearing thong bathing suits. The women were hot, even though some of them didn't shave their legs or armpits.

There weren't many as hot as the ones we brought with us. Justine looked amazing in an electric blue bikini she bought in Paris, and Katrina looked way better in her suit than she did in regular clothes. Her butt looked a little big in jeans, but in her bikini it looked really hot. No wonder Brendan was so happy since London.

But no one on the beach looked better than Molly. She had a bright yellow string bikini that went great with her skin and hair. She looked smaller without her clothes and the three-inch heels she usually wore, with that tiny waist and slim, firm legs. All except her tits, which were still huge and spilled out of her bikini top on all sides and bounced around as she ran on the beach. All the French guys were staring, and would have been hitting on her if she weren't part of a big group.

We swam a little, and most of the girls sunbathed. After a couple of hours we decided to look for a refreshment stand and a bathroom. We all walked up the beach, taking in the sights.

Our group was loud, joking around, and chasing each other. The girls squealed when someone threw water on them. Justine and I hung back from the rest and watched.

"You can join in," Justine said. "I just don't feel very lively today."

"The whole reason I'm here is to be with you, Justine. This is great."

It was true. I couldn't believe I was on the French Riviera, walking with Justine. Her hand felt fantastic in mine and she was beautiful. Her long, blonde hair looked great with the bright blue bikini. The bottom of her suit was so small that she had to shave her pussy almost completely. She had left a tiny tuft of soft blonde hair because I liked it so much.

"So you're glad you came?"

"Glad? It's like I'm in heaven. Especially sleeping with you," I said.

"That's pretty nice. It'll be hard going back to doing it in a car," she said, smiling. "I woke up last night and you were having a dream."

"Good or bad?"

"Good, I hope. You said my name a couple of times. Anyway, I watched you sleep for a while."

"I did that too," I said, grinning. "All three nights. I love how you look asleep, all peaceful."

She squeezed my hand. I was glad I was wearing a baggy swimsuit, because the talk about being in bed together was giving me a woody. I wondered if girls got sore from fucking a lot, too. Swimming in the salt water seemed to help with that, a little. I hoped so, because I couldn't wait to get Justine back to the hotel room.

We realized that the rest of our group had stopped walking, and were quiet. Everyone was watching a French woman walking out of the water. She was tall and leggy, with short, dark hair. And a deep tan everywhere, including her tits, which we could tell because she was topless.

I looked around at the sunbathers, and none of the women had tops on, even the ones lying on their backs. It looked like a nipple farm—large and small, dark and pale, all of them toasting happily in the sun. Some of the girls in our group started to giggle.

"I think we should head back," Justine said.

"Why?" Molly asked. "I think this is cool. You know, when in Nice..."

She reached back and untied her top, letting the straps drop slowly, then pulled it off. A collective gasp went up from the girls, and a sigh from the guys. Holy shit. Molly's tits were amazing. They looked even bigger naked, with puffy, upturned areolas and big nipples. The deep pink was framed by tan lines from her bikini top. Molly jiggled her shoulders and her tits bounced and swayed in unison.