Dickless

—Part 2—

Heather told me she was working on her mom, and in the meantime, she took me to the mall to shop for clothes. I’d need something sharper, more appropriate for a high-toned crowd. She was remarkably comfortable with me considering she knew about buttfucking her mom. I didn’t spare Jeff details, and I knew he’d end up telling Heather all about it. She heard it from her mom, too. That family is weird about honesty. Heather told me it was all good, and that she was happy I got along with ma. No reason to be jealous, that’s for sure. Our tryst meant nothing to Heather. She was lost in Jeff World We passed my friend Martin, whom I hadn’t seen in weeks, outside the Dapper Gentlemen store. He did the ‘hey’ head tilt, and I walked over to greet him. Heather went in to pick out an ensemble for me. I figured this was a good opportunity to get some intel; I’m constantly in spy mode these days. Martin was quite the gossip, for a dude.

“Hey, man, long time no see,” said Martin.

“Been busy.”

“Whatya doin’ with Heather? I thought she was Jeff’s flavor of the day. You’re not still hitting that?”

“Long story. She’s helping me buy some clothes. Sarah and she are friends.”

“Oh, yeah?” He flew right past my cover story. “Ya know what I hear? Adam and Chris are serious-serious. She’s gonna follow him to school instead of going to state with the rest of us…well, not you, but the most of us. They’re movin’ in together. Jeff must be pissed.”

“I guess,” I said evasively.

I didn’t savor the idea of Adam and Christine shacking up, even if she’d never be mine.

“Seriously, man, how has Jeff not murdered Adam by now? I totally thought Adam was a dead man.”

“I dunno. Jeff gets around. One girl isn’t more important than another, even Christine. Plus, Christine and Adam had already been together before.”

“Who you kiddin’? Adam stole Chris from Jeff. That’s a whole other thing. I’d watch my back if I were Adam.”

“If you say so, but Jeff is with Heather for now and was with Carrie Houseman too, so I don’t think Jeff is doing too bad.”

I was looking for an escape from the conversation. Luckily, Heather came out of the Dapper Gentlemen to find me.

“By the way, Bend-Her-Over, I heard you laid Jayden. Sly dog. Who’s next?”

Adam must’ve told him about her.

“Dunno. No one? I should cool it and get ready for school this fall.”

“Naw, naw. Strike while the iron’s hot, man. I’m moving in on Dara Foley. Taking forever, but she’s wearing down. My time is soon; your time is now. The Wrong End will be out of theaters eventually.”

Lucky Dara Foley. Martin didn’t have it in looks or tact. He was overweight and a bore. But I had to admit he could pull chicks. Don’t know how, but he did.

“You boys about finished?” asked Heather when she caught up with us.

“Sorry I borrowed your boy, Pornstar. I won’t monopolize him further,” said Martin.

It wasn’t our custom to call Heather by that nickname to her face. She looked offended. I surmised Martin was on Adam and Christine’s side in the post-breakup Cold War. I jotted down a mental note to watch out for him. In the store, I modeled Heather’s picks for her. She had me buy what she liked best. I didn’t have any say, which was for the best. If my judgment had thus far landed me with the wardrobe in my closet, it was for the best someone else decides for me. And Heather had a style. Even if I call her look gaudy and obvious, Jeff told me girls respond to what stands out. It’s called peacocking. Heather found some exotic, bikini-style underpants. I wondered if that was ideal, considering they’d leave my meager endowment plain to see. She said she couldn’t resist; they were too cute.

“Cute panties for a cute dickie.”

That’s actually how she put it. Heather had been hanging out with my sister too long, going by her mocking tone. Feeling out Mrs. Sweaten about getting me into the underground world of elite swingers was apparently a delicate task, despite the family’s purported openness. It was suggested to me by Heather that I recruit Uncle Mitch–or Mitchy as Mrs. Sweaten called her brother–for an ally. We had plenty in common, as Mrs. Sweaten informed me. Heather had us meet at the diner where she worked. I found Mitch enjoying coffee in a corner booth when I arrived on a Saturday afternoon. He looked up from his paper and smiled, dressed shabbily as usual. Every family has its black sheep, but where I came from it’s unusual for a grown man to mooch off his sister like Mitch did. Especially in the overcrowded little Sweaten house. Instead of carrying this deadbeat, Mrs. Sweaten could be better taking care of Heather and her other daughters. But I didn’t like to think of Mitch as a deadbeat because he was a good guy. And because recently I had learned we were much in the same boat.

“Oh, John, hi,” Mitch greeted me.

“Uncle Mitch, err, uh, Mitch.”

I shook his hand.

“Have you ordered?”

We planned on having lunch.

“I know my manners. I waited for you. But I did get this cup of Joe.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said and picked up a menu.

“So Heather tells me you have a little problem, haha…Just my sense of humor. Look, my sister and I talk about a lot of things. I don’t always approve, but I don’t judge. I’m not in a position to judge, I admit, but I wouldn’t anyway. That’s not who I am.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, not sure where he was headed.

He was headed there fast; jumped right into it. “I knew what she had planned for you that night. She likes all kinds, as I told you, haha. I like the idea that she’s not afraid to go for the young pups. All growing boys need their older lady experience.”

“Yeah,” I added.

This was a weird conversation. Then again, they were a weird family. He scratched his balding head and looked like he was getting to the main point.

“My sister told me, and Heather too by the way–and don’t take this the wrong way–they told me we have something in common.”

Mitch waited for a response.

“Yeah,” was all he got.

“That we’re both short in the jockeys. Angry Inchers. Members of the Small Dick Club, haha.” I got it already. “I’m going to tell you something, and you should listen.” I thought our meal was about me buddying up to Mitch, but apparently, he was here to school me. “We carry a burden in this life, but under endowment also has its privileges. From what I understand, you’ve already experienced some of the privileges.”

I fidgeted in my chair, not yet comfortable with this sort of talk. “I guess you could say that.”

“I’m not just talking about breaking girls in, so to speak.” Whoa, where did that come from? “Look at me. I’m too old to take advantage of girls’ firsts: first handjob, first blowie, first intercourse, first…you know.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s for young fellas like yourself. Ladies who’ll go with a guy like me are long past their firsts. My sister helped me out a lot when I was your age. Did you know that? She told you?”

“She told me some.”

“Her girlfriends thought I was safe. Wouldn’t mess them up too much inside, haha. But no, more like I wasn’t too full of myself. They could lead me, wouldn’t worry about me going too fast. Didn’t have to worry about me blabbing to the neighborhood, or run around on them. But you know all that.”

“More or less. With my experiences,” that was the euphemism I chose, “I got the feeling it was like a science experiment. It wasn’t personal; they were, like, discovering something.”

“Haha. A good way to put it.”

“Also, the girls liked to be in control of our sessions. And I kinda…”

I cut myself off, unable to bring myself to admit it.

“Go ahead, you kinda what?”

“I kinda enjoyed being ordered around. I liked it when they took control. It felt natural.”

“Yes. I know exactly what you mean. Not all of us small dicks are like that, but you may be what we call a sub. Subs like to be dominated. The girls who do that we call femdoms.”

“Dominated, yeah. My sister…she’s not like your sister, she’s always teasing me.”

“Teasing, humiliation, that’s a big part of it.”

“Yeah, no. There’s nothing sexual there. Oh, I mean, I spied on her to see her naked a couple of times. Can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

Mitch looked at me sympathetically. “But that was out of curiosity.”

“Nothing sexual between my sister and I, either. She taught me a few moves, that’s all. Petting moves, not full-on sex moves. We never even kissed,” I said. Anyway, Sarah, my sister, she told me I liked to be dominated, on account of this crush I have on this girl she calls the Ice Princess.”

“Haha, that’s perfect. You’ll find a lot of Ice Princesses in the life of small penis humiliation if you want.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I used to want her, the so-called Ice Princess, but now I know for sure I can never have her. With the others it was good, but it’s all so overwhelming.”

“There’s no hurry. You can take your time with all this. And you don’t always have to be the sub, no matter what your sister says.”

That was a load off if I believed him.

“As I was gonna say,” he said, “though I’m no good for firsts anymore, I still get laid. How may you ask? No job, no cool car or flashy clothes. Very little money. Dumpy, middle-aged loser. Well, I’ll tell you: I’m a novelty act. Girls flock to novelty acts, don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“What do you mean? Like, you put on a show with your dick?”

“No, it’s not like I walk into a bar and pull my pants down, or whip it out three minutes into a conversation. I cruise like any other single, hetero male, I suppose. Only at some point, I tell them I’m hung like a mouse. Once they know it ain’t a joke, they want to see it, I tell you. There’s a buzz built up around my dick. When we get somewhere private, it’s like a movie premier or something.”

“They bring you back to their place,” I assumed he wasn’t taking them to the Sweaten Shack, “just like that?”

“It disarms them. I’m as smooth and confident as the next guy, been at this a while. Only my confidence runs in an unusual direction. Why would someone be proud of a small dick, they ask themselves. It’s an intriguing proposition. If that doesn’t catch them, there’s the freak show aspect. Or the challenge: I bet I can make you cum with a small dick. Who could pass that up?”

“You throw a challenge out like that? Without getting arrested?”

“Not just like that, no. I don’t have to make the challenge explicit. Or if I do, after she’s already hooked.”

“This is a lot to take in.”

“Don’t worry about it. Look, Heather told me you’re cooking something up with my sister. I’m not sure what, but she’ll need convincing? I’ll tell her to help you out. She’ll listen to me.”

“Thanks, I don’t know what to say. You’d be a big help.”

“We small dicks gotta stick together.”

I still wasn’t used to talking openly about dicks with a guy. We had already finished our meal by then. He got up, shook my hand, dropped his part of the bill on the table and walked out. My thoughts were racing, as I considered this strange, new world of small dick sex, picking up chicks with my shortcomings, femdom and subs, all of it. I had read some about small penis humiliation online, but this was real life. Small dicks like me were actually going out and doing it. Filled with confidence, I had half a mind to hunt down Christine and show her. Not that. Show her my confidence. Before I got to my car, I noticed across the street a group of girls from my school going to the roller rink. Yes, our town still had a roller rink. It was sort of a retro, ironic hangout for teens and twenty-somethings. One of the hangers was Dara Foley, the girl Martin informed me he was warming up to fuck. I presumed he hadn’t closed the deal yet. I was suddenly seized with an acute desire to try out some of the things I had learned from Mitchy and Jeff.

Scoring Christine, Heather, Jayden, and Mrs. Sweaten, with or without help, lent me credibility in my own mind. Mitchy’s advice about women’s susceptibility to novelty acts emboldened me. The persistent popularity of The Wrong Way gave me hope. Screw Martin, he was on the other team. Bend-Her-Over (soon to be Johnny Buttfuck) was going to bend over Dara Foley. I ran across the road through a break in traffic. My body was ahead of my mind. I burst through the roller rink door and scanned the scene. With a shock, I remembered I was wearing one of the bikini briefs Heather had me buy. Uh-oh. No, no, that could be useful. Had to hold onto my confidence. Dara was hanging out near the concession stand with Gabby, Dawn, and Farrah. None of them were knockouts. Dara was kinda mousy, actually. She was short, very skinny, big cheeks and ears. Dark skin, almost like a Native American. She couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds. Though the four were chatting with three guys I didn’t recognize, I dove right in and started talking to Farrah. Jeff taught me that: never go for your target initially. Always be indirect.

“Hey Farrah, haven’t seen you since graduation night.”

We barely knew each other. In fact, I was a bit concerned she wouldn’t recognize me.

“John? Uh, hi. Are you here with Jeff?”

The inevitable question. Girls were always looking for Jeff. Well, that was the way he played it, wasn’t it? Make them chasing you. Farrah looked around for signs of my friends.

“Nah, just me. Would you excuse me, I have to get through.”

I moved her to the side, touching her shoulders. Establish contact, Jeff told me, as early as possible. It’s all about setting precedent and increasing intimacy over the course of the encounter. I pretended as if I had to get to the stand to buy a drink. I glanced at Dara with my peripherals occasionally and noticed she was bored with the guys who were chatting her up.

“Sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted anything, ” I said when I returned to Farrah with a soda.

“That’s okay, we just had sodas at the Hamburger Place,” such an original name for a downtown fast food joint.

If Dara was mousy, Farrah was horsey. Long, narrow face, tall and thin. I want to say plain, but there are plainer girls. She was overall forgettable. I briefly considering pulling her but decided to stick with Dara.

“Nice dress. Looks like one I saw Christine wear, only shorter,” I told Farrah.

I don’t know if I did Jeff’s backhanded compliment thing right, but I wanted to shift the conversation to the Christine-Adam-Jeff sex triangle, which I thought I could segue into the general sexual talk. I also wanted her to feel self-conscious about how she compared to Christine. Hopefully, there had been rumors about me and Christine, too.

“Oh, this old thing,” she said facetiously. “Since you’re not here with Jeff, I can ask if you hang around Adam and Christine anymore?”

Girls love sexy gossip. “No, I don’t see them too often. They’re pretty hot and heavy, probably behind closed doors as we speak.”

I have never been this forward with a girl I barely knew.

“What about Jeff, then? How is he taking it?”

“He feels betrayed, you know. But he didn’t always treat Christine right.”

Stop it, I told myself. You sound like a girlfriend. You’ve had enough girl talk lately. “I told him so once, and he got pissed.”

“Really? Did you tell Jeff off? Did he kick your ass?”

She giggled.

“It’s not like that with us. I can tell him off if I want.”

“What about Adam? Why hasn’t Jeff kicked his ass yet?”

“That I don’t know. He’d like to. Maybe he’s taking the high road,” I laughed at that, indicating I wasn’t serious.

Everyone knew about Jeff’s temper. He broke an opposing player’s leg after he got elbowed in a varsity basketball game. Jeff was no jock, and he barely played that year. Possibly because every time he was on the court he was a little out of control. Everyone also knew about the fights he got into with Christine, sometimes in school. They were scary together. The three guys took Dara and the others to skate around. I convinced Farrah to sit and talk. We chatted for ten minutes or so about school ending, college prep, who did what over the summer, and even The Wrong Way. The conversation turned back to Adam-Christine-Jeff by the time Dara and the others came back.

“What Adam did, I would never forgive. But he and Christine are so romantic together. It’s like a true love story,” said Farrah.

“Whatever,” Dara interjected. “He’ll be done with her before he goes off to school.”

“Christine’s going to go live with him. That’s what I heard,” said Farrah.

“Fat chance. You know how Adam is. Martin told me; Adam snakes girls from other guys then dumps them after he gets what he wants. That’s his M.O.”

“Not necessarily,” I added. “What if he doesn’t get tired of Christine?”

“Martin said..”

“What did tubbo say?”

A mean reference to Martin’s weight. Farrah laughed, Dara didn’t. They both knew Martin and I were friends, so it wasn’t as insulting as it might sound.

“He said Christine is quiet and boring, and cold on top of it, and that Adam would get sick of her sooner than later,” answered Dara.

“Of course he’d say that,” I said. “He’s trying to get in your pants. One way to do that is to cut down to size one of the best looking girls in our class in front of you.”

My mouth was ahead of my mind. She looked offended, then she looked like she had a comeback.

“You would say that. You’ve had the hots for Christine since forever. Everybody knows it. You’re defending her for the infinitesimal chance she’d ever give you the time of day.”

“That’s not fair, Dara. John’s…”

Farrah came to my defense, but I neither needed nor wanted her aid. I held up my hand to shush her.

“Christine doesn’t mean that to me anymore. We’ve had our time,” I said cryptically.

“What does that mean?” asked Dara.

“Yeah,” added Farrah.

“Don’t you two keep up? I’m not gonna fill you in if you don’t know. A gentleman…”

“There were rumors about you and Jayden, and that I can believe. Although, she is seeing Rob right now,” said Dara.

Rob, the lacrosse player, and Jayden’s second cousin. I didn’t bring that up.

“Well, lemme just say that The Wrong End was a popular movie, and leave it at that.”

They both knew what I was referring to. The reason I had been so successful that summer, besides Jeff and Adam’s help, was that movie. The Wrong Way set the minds of our town’s young women on fire. Dara’s name may have been mentioned among those supposedly rushing to lose their anal cherries, as I recall. They looked at me with disbelief.

“Bullshit,” said Dara.

“Dara…” said Farrah.

“Stuff it. Bend-Her-Over here is B.S.-ing us. We all know that he’s the odd man out of his group. Remember the day Mike Stanton pantsed him? Everyone remembers that.”

“I wasn’t there,” said Farrah.

“Neither was I,” admitted Dara. “But I know about it. Everyone knows about John.”

She wagged her pinky at me. Dara was nothing but hostile, which was fine. Jeff told me you can use hostility. That’s why the characters who hate each other on tv always end up doing it.

“That’s right. What, you think that’s an impediment? That’s my secret weapon.”

Wow, that was way more forward than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t breathe as I awaited their reactions.

“Still bullshit. Christine? In your dreams. Jayden, maybe, she can be desperate. Christine is a slut, but not for you.”

Dara was more vulgar than I remembered.

“I don’t believe it,” said Farrah, not in a way that you really believed she didn’t believe it.

“I shall neither confirm nor deny. Suffice to say many a girl has come seeking what they saw in that movie, and all have walked away satisfied. If you want to continue calling bullshit, fine. But I can show you.”

I dropped the bomb and waited for the smoke to clear. Farrah was iffy. Dara definitely wasn’t buying it.

“Come on, Farrah. Let’s get away from this weirdo.” Dara was pulling Farrah away by the arm.

Farrah struggled to stay put. The only thing they shared at this moment was that their names rhymed.

“You’re serious?” Farrah asked.

“Dead serious. Come to my place and I can show you.”

“No way, creeper. Come on, Far,” Dara said, now with her arms crossed.

“If I go with you, you’ll promise just to show me? And if I don’t want to do anything else, I can just go?”

“Farrah! Are you nuts?”

But Dara’s body had relented. Her bearing didn’t match her words. She was listening intently, for one, and leaning in. I thought against the odds that I might pull her. Farrah had to come, too, at this point. The more the merrier.

“Calm down, Dara. I know you’re curious. You can come, too.”

“You really did Christine?” Dara asked, seeking an excuse to come.

“I told you, I won’t say. I don’t have to obsess about her anymore, is all I’ll tell you.”

They looked at each other. I could feel it. Yes, victory! Dara spoke first.

“Fine, we’ll follow your car. I’ll be there the whole time watching. Oughtta be good for a laugh.”

I indicated we should go, and the three of us headed out. Dara talked nervously about the movie. Farrah was silent and followed us with her head down. They got in Dara’s car, and I was struck with the fear that they’d ditch me. But they followed as Dara said. That was the longest car ride of my life. Sarah was home; my parents were not. I resolved not to say anything to my sister, but rather to bring the girls in and let the scene speak for itself. I waited for Dara and Farrah to pull up, park, and get out of their car, fearing at each stage they’d change their minds and bail. They were tittering when they got out of the car, about what I don’t know. Or care. I was on a false bravado high, determined to ride it all the way. I was going to pretend I didn’t care that they were minutes away from seeing me naked, seeing my fashionable briefs and the shame lying beneath. I didn’t care whether we’d actually do anything: whether I’d finally, finally (finally!) lose my virginity, or whether it would be another Wrong End session (a doubles session, or a live sex show). Didn’t care, pushed forward, and let what would happen. We three walked through the front door and headed straight for my room. I had a mini fridge, so I offered the girls cold water. They passed.

“What are we here for, John?” asked Dara, as if she didn’t know.

“No need to beat around the bush. Lemme show you.”

I proceeded to disrobe, just like that. Farrah let out an, “Oh my God.”

Dara had a smirk on her face. At least I was sure they wouldn’t call the cops. When I got to my fancy briefs, Dara full out laughed. Farrah stared. I hooked my thumbs into my waistband. The point of no return again. I pulled them down and stepped out. My little boner bobbed in the air. Dara laughed uncontrollably now. Farrah remained silent and continued staring.

“It really is small, isn’t it?” said Dara.

“It does its job, Dara. Perfect fit,” I joshed.

“Go ahead, Farrah. Get what you came for.”

I wondered what that was. Obviously, they had worked it out in the car that this experience was for Farrah. I still wanted to fuck Dara, but Farrah was acceptable. She embraced me and we started making out, my tiny penis crushed against the midsection of her dress. She was forceful, with plenty of suction. I felt her long, thin body. Her blonde hair was stringy compared to Christine’s and definitely compared to Heather’s bouffant do. Though plain, she was more attractive to me than Jayden, whose lesbian haircut and pear shape was less than womanly. Farrah was also more willing and drove the action. She shoved me down on my bed and remained fully clothed as we writhed, my naked body on display for the closely watching Dara. Her brunette hair was pulled tightly into braids ending in pigtails. It was a little girl’s style, but Dara was no little girl. I could tell she was touching herself through her jean shorts. Farrah came up for air.

“Do you think we can try it like Pinky and Shirl in the movie?”

“She’s been waiting, but hadn’t found a safe enough prick yet,” Dara said from across the room.

So Farrah was a Wrong End girl, after all. I swiftly went to my nightstand and pulled out the necessities. I pushed on like we were going to do it right there in front of Dara, though I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. Or if Farrah would let me at all. But she took off her dress, so I guessed we were a go. Farrah was pale underneath her dress, with decent sized c-cups. Her bra and panties were dainty, lacy white things. She had a scar on her chest like she’d had surgery. I remembered vaguely her missing school and being hospitalized back when. Some of my classmates made a thing of going to visit her, bringing flowers. Farrah was long-bodied. Her midsection stretched out. She had very long legs, and a nice ass for someone of her build. I still found her face plain, but the body was sexy. We continued making out as I took care of the preliminaries. Then I told her to assume the position. I didn’t even try to get in her pussy. Dara said nothing. Farrah made a comment here and there but mostly was tense and unsure of herself. I pretended to be take-charge, and everything fell into place.

“Get ready, Farrah,” I said behind her at the edge of the bed, she on all fours.

I grabbed a hold of her surprisingly wide hips. Dara I could feel behind me, watching. My focus was more on her than on Farrah, honestly. Even as I eased my little dickie into Farrah’s ass, past her ring, the void once again, I thought of what Dara must be thinking. Farrah took it well. Didn’t make much noise as I rocked back and forth. I burned at this point to be doing Dara, don’t know why. To rub it in Martin’s face? But Martin wasn’t against me. He was still in contact with Adam and Christine, is all. Christine. She unfailingly comes to mind when I’m buttfucking. Any time junior is engaged, actually. For all my talk of avenging Sarah’s honor, I realized right then that I was in on Jeff’s plot to hurt Adam because he had Christine. Why should he get to have her? I couldn’t get over the time I saw him fuck Christine in my parents’ room. The way she ate his cum, the screaming, the way she looked at him afterward. Oh, what it would be to have any girl look at me like that, let alone Christine. Then it happened. I came, hard, thinking of Christine’s goo-goo eyes for Adam. No warning was given to Farrah. She grunted and looked back as my cum filled the condom.

“Did you finish?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Already? Small dick and a minute man?” added Dara.

She hadn’t stirred this whole time. “That’s all it takes. My service has been provided.”

Dara talked about my shitty service and rushed session while Farrah laid there, not participating. She kept talking about Christine, which pissed me off. I turned on Dara, my still-hard dickie pointing directly at her.

“I’ll never tell. That’s part of the service. No one but you has to know that I provided it to Farrah, and if I did the same to Christine, no one will ever know, either.”

“You all but told us. That’s the sort of weasely behavior I’d expect from a premature ejaculating small dick.”

“Shut up, Dara. You’ve said enough,” Farrah interjected.

I was gratified.

“Why don’t you leave us the room, John?”

Dara wanted to set Farrah straight in private, presumably. I went to the bathroom across the hall, naked as the day I was born, and erect. I didn’t check to see if Sarah was watching. Dara and Farrah talked of God knows what as I washed up. When I opened the door, Farrah was waiting, and we swapped. I had a moment alone with Dara in the hall.

“Joking aside, that was a hot show, John. I’ve never done anything like that before. You won’t tell, will you? Not like you didn’t tell but actually told with Christine. I mean really not tell.”

“Of course I won’t, Dara. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”

Then she did something completely unexpected and pecked me on the lips. Dara was a good kisser. Man, Martin was in for something, if he ever got her to go for it. Farrah reemerged, finally. I walked the girls to the door. Couldn’t resist when I saw Sarah watching us from the TV room.

“Sarah, this is Dara and Farrah.”

We all laughed. I think the rhyming names were on everyone’s mind. They left Sarah and me alone.

“Baby dick had a threesome?”

“Shut up, sis,” I said and left.

I was in no mood. In bed that night, I ruminated about Christine. She was all I really wanted, even as I pursued and banged other girls. Was there a way? Adam’s mom was a must. That was going to happen. Was there a way afterward, a way to win Christine after fucking her boyfriend’s mom? One night, at least? I wanted her. To lose my virginity to her. To be her boyfriend. For her to be my wife. But I was merely mooning. In reality, could I arrange things so that I at least got real sex from Christine? If I didn’t lose it to Ms. Seaver, could Christine pop my cherry? I set my mind to work on it, and in dreams, I was with her.

 

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