Oh thank god, thank god! I kept staring at the stick and I checked the box three more times to be sure. Just one line, not two. Negative. Thank god.
I know you are going to think I am full of shit but I really didn’t know. I mean, yes, I knew that was how babies were made, but honestly, I thought you had to want to. Yes, a little bit of internet research had cleared things up a lot. But I was a good girl, I didn’t plan to be naive or ignorant. But I was a good girl, and my parents were very devout Catholics. I went to a private school and sex ed consisted of nothing but abstinence. There was very brief and sterile discussion of sperm and egg, but I really thought when people had “bad sex”, the type just for fun, that you didn’t make a baby. I know, I was stupid, but instinctively, somehow, my body knew.
I was planning to save myself for marriage and for Jesus. I wanted to please my parents, my teachers, my pastor, and my friend’s parents. I liked being one of the girls that parents would point out to their little girls and say, ‘you should be just like her.’ I was excited to graduate next month and head to TCU in the fall. Jesus, what would those parents have said if the test had read positive?
Probably the same things they were saying, I mean, were going to say about Savannah. I was sure, well pretty sure she wasn’t going to tell her parents that Lizzy and I were involved. God, I could hear my parents now, “Marissa what were you thinking?!” That horrified look. And that would just be if they heard about booze or drugs. God knows what they would say if they knew. . . . if they knew their perfect daughter was now damaged goods.
Not that you would know it looking at any of us. My mother was Italian and my father was French. I was 5 foot 1, more leg than torso, and fair skinned but kept up a steady diet of spray tanning. I had been lucky with acne, and rarely had to wear much makeup. I had thicker lips than average and braces gave me great teeth.
My breasts were definitely from my mother. I was at a small C at that point and my mother commented to me often how happy I was going to be when I went to Sorority. How well I would fill out formal dresses. While I often dressed girly, it was never suggestive. My breasts helped accentuate them that I was trim, though not athletically fit like Savannah. I am softer, thicker and firmer than Savannah.
Lizzy was kind of the ugly duckling of our group, though I love her to death. But she is lumpy and has lots of freckles. But we are all beautiful to God and I know she will find the right guy at college with me next year. Savannah got into TCU as well. Everything was planned out. It was going to be perfect.
It was. Now I am not so sure. At this point I just prayed Savannah wasn’t going to be stupid about it, that she would leave Lizzy and I our of it. The anxiety over it won’t let that sickly, haunting, panicky feeling to go away. That must be what made me vomit. When I got off the phone with Savannah this morning it took a while to even understand her through her sobs. She was talking about feeling sick lately and cramping and that she had always had a very on time period. So she had accepted what she knew had happened and went to Planned Parenthood and got confirmation. She was pregnant. She was pregnant with his child. God, he was old and paunchy and a dork and . . . and . . . . oh God what had she been thinking? What had we been thinking?
She had no idea who he was, his real name, his number, his address, anything. We met him in that parking lot. Shit, we never even looked at his license plate. I am fairly certain now that it was all his plan. Why he did things the way he did, how he manipulated a few stupid naive young ladies who were too trusting. Now she had his baby inside and she didn’t know what to do. She ended the conversation saying she had to tell her mom.
That was 2 hours ago. I haven’t gotten a call since so I assume she hasn’t told, or hasn’t sold Lizzy or I out. But when I hung up, I felt nauseous. I puked, hard. Instantly so afraid that maybe I was pregnant too. But nope, the test said no. Thank god!
I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The tv was on but I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t stop my mind from going over the events of that night again, and again, and again, and again. For as sick as it makes me, I did go along, I wanted to know what it felt like to be drunk, to be high, to be . . . . fucked.
It was about four weeks ago. I remember at Bible Study that week Savannah had told us her parents were going to be out of town and she wanted to have a sleep over. We said sure, even good girls like to be able to talk at length about boys, and blogs, and makeup, and clothes. It’s all innocent fun. But she said to not mention her parents were gone, she didn’t want our parents to say we couldn’t. This was the first time her parents let her stay alone when they were gone over night. Obviously all our folks were considerably over-protective.
I remember right away knowing something was different. She had this look in her eye. She had been a good girl her whole life, and she wanted to be bad. Not crazy bad, at least I don’t think so. I don’t think she had any idea how much was going to happen. But at school that day she said she knew where her folks kept the booze and she wanted to try drinking. I admit I was curious too and Lizzy went right along and we thought that would be a fun best friends thing. Getting drunk for the first time. Jesus drank wine, right?
But when we got to the house, her parents had put a zip bolt on it. No combo, it was a key one. Savannah was so pissed, she stomped around the house hollering about her parents not trusting her.
I neglected to point out that they seemed to know what she had in mind. Anyway, she ranted and ranted and ranted. Lizzy and I were good with just chilling and watching some movies, but Savannah had her mind set on breaking some rules this weekend.
Next thing I know, she had snagged $200 from some where in the house her mother kept petty cash (not that they hurt for money) and was dangling the keys to her dad’s BMW.
“Let’s drive to a liquor store and get some of our own.” Savannah said.
“It won’t work. We can’t buy any for another 3 years. Unless you have a fake ID.” I replied.
“Oh whatever, we can find someone to buy it for us.”
Lizzy and I gave in without much of a fight. There was a liquor store really close but it was small and alone in the parking lot. Savannah went further to one that was in the parking lot with a supermarket, a cleaners and a Mexican restaurant. It took a while to figure out how to ask people. We avoided the mom and dad looking people. Tried a few old ladies who told us not to start so early on drinking. Savannah seemed to be running out of steam and I thought we would just go back to her place. But that was when he said something.
“What are you looking for?” We heard a voice ask behind us.
Savannah turned around and asked, “Who are you?”
He walked closer to us and into the overhand light. “My name is Patrick. I was in my car there listening to the end of the radio segment. I saw you go up to a number of people and you looked pretty bummed out. What are you looking for?”
“We just want a little alcohol. We won’t need much. And I have $200 whole dollars. If you get us some stuff you can spend the rest on what you want.” Savannah blurted out.
He looked around to see if anyone was watching. But it was a pretty slow evening.
“Ok, which car is yours?” Savannah showed him.
“Alright, I can’t risk someone seeing me give it to you. So I will buy in and then follow you to your place, deal?” He didn’t look real threatening or anything. He was, I don’t know at least like in his 30’s. He was balding on the back of his head, he wore glasses, had a goatee and mustache, some of his side hair was graying at the temples. He was about 5 foot 10 or so, a little soft, not like the guys at school who were mostly toned. He didn’t inspire any attraction at all to me.
I thought Savannah was nuts for trusting him but she did. She gave him the cash and we got back in the BMW.
“Aren’t you worried he is going to just grab what he wants, get in his car and drive away?” Lizzy asked openly.
“Shhhhhit! I hadn’t thought of that.” Savannah said with a growl and smacked the steering wheel. I just didn’t know why she was so determined to do something “wrong” tonight but it seemed like an obsession, like she had made a deal with herself to be the person she had never been tonight.
It was a while but the guy, “Patrick” came out of the store carrying a cardboard box that cases come in and smiled toward us as he put the stuff in his trunk. He then drove around the median and stopped a few cars back from our parking spot.
“You see! Sweet! Let’s go.” Savannah was very happy now, so much so I have to say it infected us and we were getting excited about drinking. Savannah said she wanted to use the PS4 to see if we could drive the cars on Need for Speed when drunk. We were laughing pretty good and we pulled into the garage, and Patrick pulled into the drive.
As we got out of the car, Patrick walked up to the garage, and I reached out to take the box.
“It’s kind of heavy, let me take it in for you.” Patrick insisted. He came in and put it on the counter and showed us all he got. There were 12 wine coolers. A sixer of cider. Some Fireball, and a bunch of airplane bottles of yager, jose cuervo, sky vodka, and crown royal. He was telling us about what went with what mixer and what you were supposed to drink straight.
He was nice enough. That wasn’t the problem, but I felt a little sketched out by him. Why did he want to hang out with us? So I tried a hint.
“Thanks so much for helping us out. Hope you enjoy what you got for yourself.” I said.
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I. .. I was gonna smoke a bowl before I headed out, did you want to share.”
I said “no” and Savannah said “yes” at the exact same time. “Fine, you don’t have to, but I want some Marissa. Hey, we should make a drink first. What should I get to go with the vodka?”
“Hmm, I would go orange juice. It really mellows the taste and is good in case the pot makes you thirsty.”
“Great!” Savannah said and got to work making four drinks. We all sat around the table and sipped our drinks, with Savannah constantly telling us to drink faster. We were on the second round when Patrick pulled out his glass pipe and filled it up with some grounded weed. At that point Lizzy was already acting goofy. She couldn’t hold her liquor at all.
But she was trying to keep up with Savannah, I was a ways behind, only being halfway on the refill. Then Patrick took a hit.
“Have you all smoked before?” Patrick asked. We all responded that we hadn’t. So he told us to take really small hits, to just barely light the bowl and to suck in for just a second. Savannah, on her kick, took too much and coughed like a dying cat. Lizzy took a little one and was laughing right away. I turned it down, saying I didn’t need any.
So we sat there for another hour. Another bowl, both Lizzy and Savannah pretty hammered now. I was less so, but the booze was definitely getting to me. I even started to relax and not care about getting rid of Patrick. We refilled again and went to the living room and played Need for Speed on the PS4 and Mario Kart on the Wii. Patrick was pretty good at both. I am guessing he wasn’t a gamer. But he was pretty cool over all, even though I still wondered why a guy that old would want to hang with us.
We were on to the Crown and Coke when Patrick suggested we play a game. We talked about board games. He asked if we had Cards Against Humanity, but we didn’t. No way Savannah’s parents would be down with that game.
“Well, have you all played Truth or Dare?”
“Nnnnoooope!” Said Lizzy laughing. She was really fucked up. Savannah was certainly flying high but she seemed focused. I was still only on booze. While I was approaching a motor skills impairment level I hadn’t had before, I was still coherent.
“Oh, it’s a fun game. So it’s called Truth or Dare. The rules are real simple, so it’s a good drinking game. So it goes like this. When it is your turn you ask someone a question, you say truth or dare. They can pick the dare if they want, if not they say truth and then you ask them a question of something you want to know, but the other doesn’t want to answer.”
“Ho-ho-ho, that sounds like a good one.” Savannah said, spilling a bit of her C&C on her shirt. Savannah was a very petite 5 foot even. She had a pretty dark natural tan tone, she was like half Italian and ¼ Irish and ¼ Native American. She had a slim body all the way around, her boobs, while still growing were only mid A-cups. Her skin was a rusty bronze color, her hair was scraggly and dark dirty blonde. She was wearing a white t-shirt and just above the knee length light blue pleated skirt, and white strapped sandal wedges.
I remember how she looked so well because the sight of her, during the game . . . it was burned into my memory, I could see it very quickly without really trying, in such vivid detail. It was even clearer than what happened to me.
“Oh yeah it is a good game. So for the dare, you make the dare something you know they won’t want to do so they will tell you the answer to your question.”
“Ok, let’s play.”
“Yeah, ha ha ha.” Lizzy concurred. So I went along. We sat in a circle on the carpet.
“Ok, I will go first. Show you how to play. Ok, Savannah, have you ever pleasured yourself?”
“Oh my gaa-!” Savannah burst into giggled followed by Lizzy. I didn’t laugh though. I thought it was a really creepy question for him to ask. But the others didn’t seem to care.
“Oh my, ok dare, screw that!”
“Hmmmm, you have to . . . let your friend spit in your drink and then finish it.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeww!” Lizzy screamed and back into giggles.
“Gross! Ok, never mind. Oh my gosh. Uh, yes, I have used my fingers to . . . to feel good.” Savannah turned really red.
“Ok, since you were the focus of the last question, you get to go next.” Patrick explained.
“Ooooooook, hmm, Marissa, do you know what happened to my favorite mood ring?”
Shit! I didn’t know she knew I took it. “Uhhhhh, dare. . . “
“I knew it. Ok, uuuummmmm, you have to take a hit of the weed. Not a big one but I want to see smoke.
I didn’t want to but I did. Boy that shit hits you hard when you have been drinking. I felt really messed up. I got pretty quiet and introverted after that, and the other three spent most of the time just asking each other stuff, smoking more pot, and having another round of drinks. I didn’t even pay that much attention, I was trying to figure out how to process my high. But I looked up when I heard:
“Savannah, truth or dare.”
“Truth.”
“In July at Susan’s party, where did you and Tommy go when the rest of us were in the pool?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I hadn’t gone to Susan’s party. Apparently my friends were a little bit more devious than I knew. They hadn’t told me about being there.
Savannah looked at Lizzy for a while. “Dare.”
“Fine.. . . .you have to give, what’s your name?”
“Patrick.”
“Give Patrick a kiss.”
“What?! Lizzy . . . “
“If you don’t want to do it, answer the question!”
“Huuuckkkkk!” Savannah growled. She hopped up on her knees and leaned to Patrick, she took one hand and grabbed him by the cheeks and planted one on his lips. It wasn’t much more than a peck, but it broke open ice that mattered.
Lizzy fell into a fit of laughter. Next Savanna asked Patrick a question. Then he asked her one back.
“Have you ever given a guy a blowjob?” Patrick asked Savannah.
“Fuck that. What’s the dare?”
“Hmmm, you have to . . . .kiss Lizzy!”
“Aaaaaagh!” Both Lizzy and Savannah giggled and stalled. Patrick went to the kitchen and poured a fireball shot for all of them. He seemed to accept I was done drinking. Of course the hit of pot had me still dizzy and nauseous.
The three took their shots, and then Lizzy and Savannah went ahead and kissed. Again, it wasn’t anything crazy, but it was a warning of where the game was going.
When it was Lizzy’s turn again she asked the same question.
“Where did you go with Tommy?”
“Hey you can’t ask that again!”
Patrick laughed. “There is no rule against that. You can answer her anytime you want.”
Savannah laughed and grabbed the Fireball bottle and took a pull. “Dare.”
Lizzy was annoyed that Savannah would not tell her what happened. “Fine, if you won’t answer, you have to kiss Patrick and, and, and use your tongue!”
“Ewwww! You bitch, ha ha!” At this point Savannah was so hammered she really didn’t care. She knee walked over to Patrick and threw her arms around him. She kissed him flush and opened her mouth and they kissed for 5 seconds. I had no idea how to kiss like that. Again I was coming to understand that I was the naive one of the group.
On they went, the dares getting more and more risque. Groping someone here, touching someone there. Lizzy kept the same question coming. Next she made her flash her bra to Patrick. Then she made them kiss for a count of 10. On and on they went. Before long all of them had kissed a number of times, felt the girls’ breasts, everyone’s butts.
Then lots of flashing, the last time Lizzy increased the dare to a real flash, and Savannah went ahead and did it. She showed Patrick, and the rest of them her A-cups.
Another round of shots. It was obvious that Savannah didn’t want to answer.
Another 10 minutes and more and more dares, it seemed like they didn’t even want to ask questions anymore. They just wanted to be naughty. It was like they forgot I was even there.
Lizzy asked again. Savannah asked for the dare. “C’mon Savannah, just answer the stupid question!” Lizzy yelled.
“My choice! Get over it.”
“Fine, here’s a dare even you won’t do. You have to pull up your skirt and let Patrick lick you down there!” I couldn’t believe she said that. But hey, at least now Savannah would answer.
Savannah turned beat red in the cheeks. She looked at the ground. “I don’t want to play anymore.”
“Na-uh! Not until you finish your turn! Where did you and Tommy go?”
Savannah just stared at her. Drunk as shit. High as fuck. Eye bleary and red and droopy.
She got a snare on her lips. “Fine bitch.”
She flayed her hair out and laid down on her back. She put her feet flat on the floor putting her knees at 90 degrees. She grabbed the front of her skirt and pulled it to her belly button.
“Do it. Go ahead Patrick, just get this shit over with.”
I don’t know that Patrick ever planned on it this way. But he knew the game. The game with drinking. It always went sexual. Even Lizzy who I figured was as clueless as me, nothing more than a few kisses with a boyfriend, quickly went the sexual route with this game when fueled by intoxicants.
I was starting to feel a bit ill. I didn’t know anything about pot, but it was legal in our state. It must have been really potent. I took a tiny hit but I was feeling all fuzzy all over. Why did people drink and smoke on purpose to feel this way?
I remember watching Patrick as he stared at Savannah’s crotch, covered by light blue panties. He moved to his hands and knees, his eyes as big as dinner plates, his mouth open, his tongue wetting is lips, his jaw swinging around, loosening up. I got the idea at that time that he wasn’t planning just a quick look. He looked hungry, and excited.
His face disappeared past her thigh. From my spot, propped up against the entertainment center, I could only see his hair above her legs.
“Auuuuuuuuuuuuh!” Savannah gasped as his tongue made contact. Her hips jumped a bit and her face turned to me, eyes closed, lips pulled back to her teeth.
“Hoooooooooooly shit. . . “ Lizzy said, as amazed as I that Savannah actually picked the dare. Right in front of us, she was letting a guy, god knows how old, lick her pussy! Was she crazy? God he wasn’t even attractive.
It certainly wasn’t a quick lick, they were passing 30 seconds. Savannah had been breathing kind of heavy but really broke the silence, when Patrick got a good move in.
“Oh fuck!” Her eyes snapped open and she stared at the ceiling. Her hips jolted. “Oh ffffffffuck! Huuuh!” Her groan was almost a cry. I wondered if it was a cry for help. But at that point both of Savannah’s hands clutched Patrick’s thinning hair. She began steering him, guiding her to where she wanted him next.
Patrick pulled back a bit and I watched him yank and then slide Savannah’s panties over her knees, before he dove back in, Savannah now opened without restriction.
I never imagined the sounds. Slobbering, squishing, grunting, groaning, moaning. None of it seemed enticing, but Savannah certainly didn’t mind. She began moaning louder and louder.
“Oh sweet baby Jesus! Patrick, oh Patrick right there!!!” One of her hands went to her mouth, her teeth biting her fingers, her other hand still steering Patrick around.
I could smell it now. I had never smelled anything like it. I had no idea sex smelled.
“Jezzzzzus Savannah” Lizzy whispered very quietly. She knew as I did, this wasn’t stopping until Savannah had an orgasm. I knew those, I had masturbated a time or two. But I never made noises like Savannah was.
“Ooooooooooooohmmmmmmmy gaaaaaaaaaawd. Oh Patrick! Oh god! Oh God! OH God! OH GOd! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”
Savannah’s whole body was shaking when she screamed. So that was what a real orgasm is, I thought to myself. Holy shit. I can’t believe we just watched that. Oddly Patrick hadn’t stopped, he kept going at it for another minute.
Savannah had just gone mostly limp. Her head slowly rolling back and forth.
Then Patrick did stop. Stop licking.
He slithered up her, his lips kissing her flat tender tummy, red brown like the rest of her. He pushed her shirt up as he went up. Her bra stayed on her but her top was up to her shoulders. Patrick began to kiss her neck, then her jaw, then he kissed her. She wasn’t kissing back much, she had faded into her orgasm, barely coherent.
Kiss. Kiss, neck lick, shoulder kiss. I was watching his face so intently, amazed at what I was seeing I didn’t notice him slowly shoving his jeans and underwear down to his thighs.
I noticed when his hand reached down and under Savannah’s thigh. I saw just a bit of his manhood but I was startled beyond belief. Drunk, high, and dizzy, I just watched, in horror, in disbelief.
“Nnn . . . Pajjjrick. Nnn—no doahnnnnn” Savannah slurred as she felt what I couldn’t see, Patrick’s hard penis pushing to where his tongue had just been.
“Unnnnnk, juzz relax baby.” Patrick said in a low moan as he pushed his cock inside of Savannah’s young teenage pussy.
Savannah’s neck craned, “Uuuu-nah! Ooouuuuh gawwwwd! Ehhhhhhh!” Savannah moaned, her eyes open wide, a look of fear on her face as she stared at Patrick. Her first lover. Her fetus’ father. That sick fucker.
“Fuuuuck babbbbby. Unuh you’re so tight!” Patrick growled, propping himself up on his hand and began sliding up and down along Savannah. Faster . . . .faster.
“Guuaaay! Oh god, oh god. . . oh Jesus, ohmmm!” Savannah’s hands were covering her face, horrified of what she was doing but enjoying it far too much to stop. He was old, he was balding, he was out of shape. This wasn’t the first time she dreamed of, but it rarely is. What she did know was she loved what she felt, and didn’t want it to end without ending as nature intends.
I saw Lizzy crawling unsteadily until she was sitting up against one of the couches, directly behind them. I don’t think I saw her blink until it was over. She was mesmerized, watching Patrick’s less than impressive penis going in and out of our friend. He was gripping her leg but their motions overall didn’t seem very organized or thought out.
He just kept shoving it in, no matter how wrong he knew it was, he wasn’t stopping. I had never felt more uncomfortable and sheltered.
When Patrick sat back on his heels, grabbed Savannah by the waist, and said, “Here it comes sweetie!” I had no idea what hee was referring to. But what I did see is he held her up a bit, her ass off the floor and was moving his hips back and forth very quickly. I heard a slapping sound, unable to see it was his testicles slapping her virgin taint.
“Oh damn, oh fuck . . . here we go. Here’s your prize. Oh, OH, OH, OH, OH
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
He stopped pumping and held Savannah firm, and stood up rigid on his knees. His eyes squinted. His lips curled. His face squished.
Then his mouth relaxed and hung open, while his body would convulse a few times. Lightly grunting, until he finally sat back on his heels and let go of Savannah.
Her ass was back on the floor and Patrick’s head hung back, as he fought the urge to sleep. What I wasn’t aware of was that he had left a lot of himself, his semen, his sperm, his DNA inside her. If only Savannah had saved any of it. We might know who he is.
“Hooooooollllly. . . . wow. . . “ Lizzy commented, still not blinking.
Patrick pulled out of Savannah, a very modest looking penis from what I could tell. At least how I had heard them described in pornos. Patrick reached for a blanket on the couch and covered him and Savannah and cuddled with her.
Lizzy and I didn’t move for 15 minutes. Just staring at what was already done. Had we really just watched our friend, or best friend have fucking sex with a nasty old fucker right on the floor? That wasn’t special, that wasn’t memorable, why did she. .. why did she let him do that?
I finally pulled myself to my feet, I had to pee so bad. I also vomited while I was in there. Partly from booze, partly from pot, partly from watching a gross guy fuck my friend like a rag doll. I don’t know how long I was in there, but when I stumbled out, they weren’t on the floor anymore. And I didn’t know where that little Irish red head friend of mine Lizzy was.
I pulled a comforter and pillow out of the living room pantry and curled up on one couch. Very tired form the emotional viewing and hard vomiting. I was almost asleep when I heard the toilet upstairs flush. I heard steps coming down the stairs at the same time I heard what I never expected.
I heard a moan from Savannah. What the fuck was she doing now? The moans got louder, and louder, and faster. I began to hear the cracking of the wooden frame of her parent’s bed in the master bedroom just off the living room.
I forced my head up. I wanted to find out I was just hearing things, or dreaming. Instead as I turned to look behind the couch I saw Lizzy standing at the door, one leg bent at the knee, and I could tell she was playing with herself, watching whatever was resulting in Savannah’s moaning.
I felt sick again, but not vomit like. Sick in my heart. All of it. The drinking. The smoking. The naughty game, the inappropriate dares. The cunnilingus. The fucking intercourse. Now, god knows what she was doing. Couldn’t be any worse could it?
I curled up and pulled the comforter over my head. I wanted to sleep, to forget about this.
Savannah’s moan got really intense, almost like she was sobbing and I heard Patrick’s voice yell out something in unison with her. Then it was quiet.
I heard Lizzy walk by, a stop at the cupboard for her own blanket and pillow. She went to the far couch and curled up facing away from me. Soon I heard her moans.
I opened my eyes and watched my friend work herself into a frenzy via fantasizing about watching our friend get raped by that sick fuck a second time. I know Savannah was moaning, but she didn’t mean it! She was just fucked up! She was confused!
Lizzy kept at it until she orgasmed. It wasn’t enough to watch one friend be a sicko, I had to watch the other do it to. I felt like I didn’t know these girls. Soon after, she was snoring softly. Finally the house was quiet, and the silence wrapped me in wonderful sleep.
I awoke at some point in the night, the room a blue glow from the tv that was still droning on.
Oh shit!
I jumped off the couch and back to the bathroom and puked again. At least this time I actually felt better. I felt halfway normal. But Jesus I was still fucked up. I felt so fuzzy all over, every felt over stimulated. I rinsed my mouth and walked out of the bathroom.
Jesus. You have to be kidding me. It was Savannah again. I was all too familiar with her moans by now. They were soft, but definite. The grandfather clock interrupted, chiming out 3 AM to the house. When it silenced I could hear Savannah again. I don’t know why I was so curios, but I was. Why was she STILL going at it? Was it that good?
There was light coming from the room. As I began to peek around the door I saw the bathroom within the room was the source of the light. While blocked directly by the wall, the resulting flood of secondary light was more than enough. I finally got my entire head around the door and saw them.
It was quite a sight. I had never considered there were other ways to do it. But there they were. Patrick laying down, his face just visible past Savannah’s thigh, as she straddled him. She was moving slowly up and down. I couldn’t make out much beyond that, but now that I was a little more in my right mind, I felt what Lizzy must have.
Watching them copulate was intensely sexual and I began to tingle down below. That is why Lizzy was touching herself. I could barely stop myself from doing the same.
Savannah leaned forward, her hands on Patrick’s chest and began to ride him diagonally instead of vertically and finally I could see what Lizzy had that first time. I could see his penis as clear as day. I knew my eyes were as big as dinner plates too as I became mesmerized. I watched Savannah take him in, and then pull off, back in, back out.
She kept changing her pace, faster, slower, up, down, forward, back, swirled, swivel, she was working herself up for a big finish.
“Oh god, keep flicking it Patrick. Oh god, oh god here it comes. Oh it’s, it’s, it’s B-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-G-G!!!!!!! Huah! Huah! Unah! Uh!”
I could see the muscles in her back flexing as she orgasmed for at least the 4th time that night, plus any I hadn’t known about.
I realized Patrick was watching me, staring at me as he fucked Savannah with his cock. I made me sick, yet I could not turn away. His beady eyes bored into me. He mouthed to me, “this one is for you”
His head fell back, and the balls of his feet pushed into the bed and he shot his hips upward, shooting his semen into Savannah yet again. “Rrrrraaaaaaawwwwwwwwaah!”
It was crazy, watching the actual sex, it sure made the orgasmic cries much more . . . visceral and intense. I had never felt so much warmth flowing out of my body, the term “in heat” finally making sense to me. I walked back to the couch, stunned by what I had seen, and mortified I had enjoyed it.
I have no idea if any of us were more of his type that the other. Savannah, with her petite, athletic and hard body, with dark dirty blonde hair? Lizzy a pale, freckled, significantly large breasted Irish redhead. Or was it me? The thicker, curvaceous, voluptuous type?
My eyes were shut, the minute strobe effect of the tv slashing on my eyelids as I couldn’t stop from having the visions. The visions of Patrick on me. Of Patrick in me. I didn’t want him. Not at all. But now I felt I knew why Savannah took him even though he wasn’t what she wanted.
Because he was a man, and only a man could have felt like a man. I had never felt a man, but when I watched Savannah working on Patrick’s dick, I felt it inside me. What it must feel like. How amazing it must feel to work yourself to ecstasy on a man. It was the first time she ever could sense the desire to carry, the desire to take a man, the desire to quench the thirst of her ovaries.
Her fingers were all over her pussy, sloppy and uncontrolled. I didn’t even know how to masturbate correctly. Too little experience. But I wanted to badly to feel as good as Savannah did. I just kept working on whatever seemed to work most intensely.
I had been at it for a bit and was trying so hard to just finish. To just go over the edge and have my orgasm and settle into its warmth and sleep. But, but something had pulled me out of my imagination. Something had changed.
The tv. The flash was gone. My eyes forced opened, to see Patrick watching me, standing in front of the tv.
Oh my god! Has he been watching me? He had his pants and shirt and jacket on. It looked like he was on the way out. But she saw me. Or . . . was I making noise? Did he hear me.
Patrick got a slick grin on his face that turned my stomach. He sat next to me, still in my black skirt and pink tank top. I no longer had my jacket on, one less layer of protection of my breasts from him.
“Here, let me help you . . .” he said in a low hushed voice.
I tried to protest. To say no. But my lips just parted and closed again, I almost didn’t feel in control of myself.
“N-nn-nnn” I tried again, my eyes darting over to Lizzy, still curled on the couch away from me.
“Don’t worry sweetie. She’s not gonna wake up.” Patrick said as his thumb grazed my thigh, his fingers close enough to feel the heat of my womb. I felt his fingers touch me.
“Uh-h-h-h-h-h-h” I stammered, my eyes darting back to Patrick. It was immediately evident that he knew more about where to touch than me.
As I felt him explore me my loins caught fire and I felt the kind of pleasure pings I hadn’t before. Jesus it felt so good! He was old! He was gross! He was fat! He was bald! Yuck!
But still I let him.
My eyes were starring over at the wall of the sofa. I couldn’t bare to watch him. Those eyes, piercing and evil. Those lips, curled into his sadistic smile, as he got to feel his second teen pussy of the day. I could almost hear his teeth grinding in his intensity.
I felt my pussy pulsating with waves of needles of pleasure. The wave kept pushing outward numbing my legs. The needles worked up my chest, setting my nipples on fire. The needles were encapsulating my heart, and I feared I was going to have a heart attack as that went numb.
Patrick had his fingers inside me, working me into the type of frenzy Savannah had been experiencing. The needles worked up my neck and over my head until they finally pierced my brain and the orgasm exploded in and through me. My body writhed, my hips shook, my teeth chattered, and my heart pounded as I fell over the peak of my orgasm.
“Uh-unf-unf-unf-unf-unf!” My body kept pulsing with is fingers as the orgasm seemed to sit at the peak continuously. I began to float away and my ‘unfs’ turned into deep labored breaths.
It was crazy. I swear I was floating in a big gold flowing river, gold was everywhere, streaming up or down in different designs with the warmth of the sun all around me, tingling and beaming. I forgot who I was. I forgot that I was all together. Nothing mattered like the orgasm.
I didn’t feel him at first. I felt the weight, I remember that. But I honestly thought it was part of the orgasm. It had done so many things I never felt before.
While the weight didn’t alert me, the smell of his breath did. I could smell a combo of booze, pot and whatever he had for dinner. It wasn’t pleasant.
My eyes barely broke their seal. He was an inch from my face, his eyes boring into mine. I saw his eyes flutter and he gave a soft grunt. I had been so numbed from my orgasmic orgasm that I hadn’t felt his pushing until then.
“n-n-na. Hmmmf. Shhhhhhnna.” God I was fucked up. More the booze, the pot or the orgasm I don’t know but I couldn’t control my lips or my tongue. But I felt it now that I was feeling for it. Oh Jesus, that was him, that was his . . . that was his fucking penis pushing against me!
“Rrrrroow,” Patrick moaned, and I watched his face scrunch as . . .
Oh god! Oh my god it was. … . going. . . . in. . . . Fuck! No! Stop, OH JESUS, IT’S SLIDING IN!
“Shnnnaaaama!” I tried to press against him, with no effort, my arms and legs felt like jello.
I felt my body shake when his mushroom cap pushed passed my natural defenses and I felt my opening grip him under the cap.
I closed my eyes, trying to gain control over my speech. I was almost out of time! This wasn’t how I planned my first time! I wanted it to be my husband, a tall dark handsome stud, filling my body with love. Not this ugly, old, fat fuck.
JESUS! It was going in more! It slid in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, accompanies by Patrick’s throaty grunts.
“Phu-huh-huh-huh. Nuuh-huh-uh-uh-uh?” I could speak but I could cry. I sobbed, getting no reprieve. I sobbed because I was disgusted. I sobbed because I was not only a slut, but I was sluting with a guy who had just fucked my friend. He had both of our virginity, that fucking asshole.
“Unnnf!” Patrick grunted as I felt his groin push up against me, his penis completely buried within me. I continued crying, more now because I knew I enjoyed it. Why did I like him in me? He wasn’t the one! But my body did not care about “the one for me.” My body wanted a man, any man, to make me feel like a woman.
I felt the disgusting slick wet of our genitals as he began to pull out and push in with quick strokes.
I hated the feelings I was having as instincts began to take hold.
“Damn baby, UNUH! I didn’t think I could-dah! Get it up again. You are special.”
I felt his hands pushing my top up, higher and higher, his hands gripped my bra and pushed it up with my top to my upper chest, exposing my moderate C size breasts to him.
I felt Patrick pulling out of me to the tip, and I hated myself for wanting to tell him not to let it all the way out. Why did I care? Why? Because of instinct my legs were begging to wrap about his saggy waist. Instinct made me want to pull him back deep inside me.
He stayed barely in me as he slobbered all over my breasts, squeezing, biting and sucking. The pain from the bites paled to the pleasure of my super sensitive nipples. Oh Jesus, I’m sorry that I love it!
Patrick worked my breasts for what seemed like forever until he said, “Oh damn baby, I wasn’t sure I had any left, but you worked it out of me.
Mercifully I felt his length back inside me as he clamped his mouth on mine and shoved his tongue in my mouth. His terrible breath, his musky smell, the smell of our genitals, the booze, the pot. My disgust was strong, but not stronger than my body’s demands.
I gripped Patrick’s arm’s, my legs pulled up, my knees on his sides, my feet resting on his love handles as he began grunting and thrusting hard, deep, fast. I finally understood without being told that there was no separating sex from copulation. I understood now that there was no “finish” without a sharing of his DNA. Semen. His semen was going to be in my body.
I turned my head to the couch so ashamed and embarrassed. Wondering how I could have let all this happen. A lifetime of being good, unraveled by one night. I felt his hands on my shoulders holding his weight. I heard the slapping as I felt his testicles slapping against me. I knew it was close. I knew soon I wouldn’t be chaste, I would be fertilized, I sobbed wondering how it would all end.
I felt Patrick seize and heard a voiceless moan, sound only his breath. I felt him quiver. I knew. I knew then I was the whore I had always chided. A man, so much older, not worth my time, whose name, I barely knew was the first man to bathe my body with his seed.
I did feel an orgasm of sorts, but not physical. Nothing like the one his fingers give me. It was a flood of contentment and reward chemicals in my brain. Like the combo of running a mile, eating a chocolate bar, and the contentment of sleeping in your parents bed as a child. My body was happy, even if I was not.
I never opened my eyes as I felt his penis leave my body. The chill of the night air on my bare legs and parts of my body. I heard his zipper. I heard him walking. I heard the door to the house open and close.
I heard a car start, and soon it was silent. My first lover. My first mate. He was gone, and I had no idea how to ever find him again. I blindly pulled the comforter back over me but never fell asleep.
When the sun was peeking through the window, I pulled my clothes back on, put on my shoes, grabbed my backpack and started the 12 block walk home, feeling sick to my stomach again every time a drop of fluid slid down my leg.