Prologue

She was gorgeous. Her black hair was straight and smooth and hung like a silk curtain over her shoulders. Her face was a work of art, with high cheekbones and luminous eyes. Her light skin was soft and unblemished. Even her name was uniquely gorgeous... "Cherys" (pronounced Sheh-REESE, her parents were hippies or something).

She was nineteen, in the full flower of youth with her best years still ahead of her. And despite her young age, I couldn't help but think of her already as a woman. She had full curves perched around the tightness only a teenager possesses. Hers was a body that would be the envy of any model in the nude magazines my best friend swiped from his dad. I imagine that her body was the perfection that Adam first witnessed when God created Eve.

Her tits were so big, so round, and so indescribably magnetic. Her ass was buoyant and tight as a drum. Her irises flickered and changed color depending on the light, from green to blue to violet, each hue more beautiful than the last. Even her hands were delicate and utterly lovely. I was so in love.

Too bad she was taken... by my sister.

Yes, I did say 'sister'.

Oh, what cruel fate that such a creature of perfection should be forever beyond my reach, in more ways than one? Cherys was held before me as the embodiment of absolute temptation, and yet I had no hope. To be dating a family member automatically made her off-limits according to The Code. The fact that she was a lesbian dashed any ideas of attempting to steal her, even if I wanted to break The Code.

If that wasn't bad enough, Cherys practically lived at our house. Her parents, while tendering reluctant acceptance of her sexual orientation, didn't want to see it personally in their home. So my sister and Cherys spent all their "together" time at our place. Thus, I frequently saw Cherys in various states of undress up and down the halls. And to make matters worse (for my hormones) I was forced to listen to her having sex with my sister through the thin wall between our bedrooms.

I was an eighteen-year-old boy, and suffice to say that Cherys was the star of many of my fantasies.

Just don't tell my girlfriend that.

Oh yeah, did I mention I had a girlfriend?

Ours was the storybook High School romance. We'd met the first week of our freshman year, getting funneled in from different Middle Schools. I went out for the football team. Monica auditioned to be a cheerleader. Various team hazing rituals brought us together more than once and after several group dates I asked her to go steady with me. She'd been pursued by a Varsity upperclassman but chose me instead. Now, a few years later, I'm the Varsity jock and Monica is the head cheerleader.

No, I'm a wide receiver, not the quarterback. We're not THAT cliché.

But anyways, as far as the student body was concerned, Monica and I were the model couple. We'd been together for years, we looked good together, and we were both in rather popular social circles. We had the perfect relationship, at least as far as the student body knew.

As far as I knew? Well, I was DYING to get laid.

You see, Monica had this mixed-up idea of saving herself for marriage. She was upfront about it from the beginning and I'd agreed not to push her. When you're a freshman trying to win a cute redhead from an upperclassman jerk, you'll agree to anything. Years later, that agreement was the invisible crack in our relationship just waiting for a chance to become the next great earthquake.

I mean, come on! Monica was built for sex. She was a curvaceous, gorgeous redhead with tits too big for her slender frame. Only 5'4", her compact body exuded power and energy best directed into the wildest, sexual, rabbit-fucking frenzy imaginable. Coupled with her social butterfly personality, she was the perfect cheerleader.

And she was mine.

But she wouldn't have sex with me.

To be fair, we did just about everything else: handjobs, oral sex, titfucks. Monica was as hot and horny as I was. After every single ballgame, she would get so revved up from hundreds of men ogling her in her tight cheerleader uniform that she would practically assault me to get into a sixty-nine in the backseat of my car.

Quite often she would simply open up my fly and devour my dick while I was driving her home from a date. There was something so unimaginably sexy about her plump, red lips wrapped around my shaft as her head went up and down, racing to get me to blow into the back of her throat before I got her home.

Chapter 1 »