Chapter 18

There was a lot to figure out. We did, though, with the help of our parents. They'd been down this road already, figuring it out step-by-step, so we built on that. We agreed to get together on Wednesdays, and still had the option of getting together on Saturdays with our parents.

Mom dropped us off, and I hoped I was reading her mood correctly. A mother is very protective of her daughters, and here she was, leaving us by ourselves and knowing that we were going to have sex. Not just any mother could have done that.

Liz and I were both nervous. It was one thing to go off with our parents, that left us under their protection and control, well, sort of. But now we were on our own. Only our hostess's parents were around (by consent w were meeting at a girl's house). So, like a lot of girls, we soothed our feelings with clothes.

A girl uses her clothes as an emotional release. You brighten yourself up with a new outfit, your dress in severe clothes to get the right frame of mind for important things, and for sex parties you get in something flirty and revealing. A lot of women will go for something that shows off their cleavage and the rest of their curves, something tight, perhaps if they have a good figure, or filmy if they want to be "mysterious" and alluring. I'd done some thinking that morning, and I decided to go "anime style", lifted right out of the cartoon I'd watched. This meant really short black skirt, white blouse, and long socks.

Very early on you learn to dress to give certain impressions. That's why the filmy or tight seductress things. I wore a red push-up bra, not that my boobs need pushing up, and red panties. I'd skipped panties before, but usually only in town. The habit is very strong in a girl, and besides, there's a practical reason: with a skirt this short it was bound to flip up, and I did want some coverage down there in case it happened in public.

We had customs that we were used to with our parents, but everything we did here would have to be worked out and we'd do it for the first time. The first, of course, was just how we got from the way we were, a bunch of teens sort of standing around uncomfortably, to clothes off and legs open. At the Saturday parties there was always someone who started things, and we just sort of followed along. Here... ?

"In for a penny, in for a pound," I muttered to Liz. I walked over to one of the guys, flipped up the skirt, and shoved his hand down the front of my panties. I gave him a torrid hiss, complete with tongue, a kiss I felt down to my toenails. And as we broke I deliberately moved his other hand from my waist to my boob.

That broke the ice. We had our first tradition: the girl makes the move. Guys, I've found, are really okay with this. They're expected to dominate, to take charge, to set the pace, and so on. The girl merely has to show she's open to his advances. I just had, and with that everyone felt on familiar territory. Blouses began to get unbuttoned, bras unsnapped, and zippers lowered.

You don't proceed directly from fully-clothed to inserting a penis into a vagina. Instead we shed clothes (they lay where they fell) and lips began to explore. Jerry, the guy I was with, decided that my boobs needed a thorough investigation with his mouth. I'd pulled down his zipper, extracted his cock, and was stroking it, getting it hard enough to make us both happy.

It didn't take that long to get rid of the clothes. It didn't take much longer to get to the main course. Jerry and I weren't the first, nor were we the last. He did use his tongue to make sure I was wet enough, and I covered my pussy with my fingers, not to protect myself, but so I could feel his cock sliding through my fingers as he entered me. It's a girl thing.

One of the funny things about a party when you're all in the same room and more or less start together, is that you can end together. You could almost feel the rising excitement; you certainly could hear it. Then somebody came, and that raced around the room, everyone coming, one after another, like a chain-reaction.

One of the assumptions at a party is that not everyone will blow off at the same time; there will always be someone ready to go. In our eagerness we'd all just come, and while the girls were ready to go again, the boys weren't. Fortunately everyone was pretty experienced. Guys shifted around, found boobs that needed kissing, pussies that needed stroking, and got busy. I think most of the girls came again from that (I know I did). That set the pattern for the next little while.

After the second go-round the guys needed to rest, and so did we. Contrary to popular opinion you don't screw for three or four hours straight. You do it, you rest (and play), then do it (and play some more), and take a break. That's when I found out that teenage girls without adults around to supervise or constrain them, can be pretty raunchy.

At the adult parties girls didn't really touch other girls, except in non-erotic places (try finding one of those on a woman's body!), except very hesitantly and with caution. There were exceptions, Dale and me, but that was it. Here, Liz and I were lying side by side and one of the girls, a heavy-set brunette named Lori who affected pigtails at parties to emphasize her youth, and was addicted to granny glasses (and had big boobs I had wanted to suck for some time) decided to see just how identical my sister and I were. She spread our legs and people took really close looks.

Now nothing will make a girl squirm in embarrassment more than a very up-close inspection, especially of her private parts (an up-close inspection of your freshly done nails is always welcome). She actually touched us, spreading our pussy lips, and so on. I wanted to snap my legs closed, but she had her hands in the way and I couldn't.

"Liz is leaking more come," Jodie said. "Of course that's the boy, not her."

Lori moved around a little, bringing her bottom up toward my face. When I felt her finger slide into me, that was too much. I pulled her over and stuck my tongue up inside her.

She yelped, and then froze as she realized that wasn't a cock.

"I didn't see who you were with," I said, pulling back just a little, "but it tastes like Jonathon."

She giggled. "God, girls, you ought to try this. It feels fantastic!"

A couple of other girls hesitantly began to touch each other. Theirs was a journey of exploration. Thanks to Dale, I knew what I was doing down there. Lori lowered herself and hesitantly kissed me right above my slit. Then very carefully swiped her tongue a little lower.

She was too hesitant to get me off, so I concentrated on her. It didn't take that long. Between my two fingers in her and my tongue on and around her clit she soon gushed all over my hand and shuddered with a low moan. Before she could realize it I rolled her onto her back and kissed her lips.