1 comments/ 19072 views/ 4 favorites Cooling Our Itch Ch. 01 By: AnAmericanDarling I've been writing my own poetry for the last several years, but I had not thought about reading it in public until recently when I saw a sign about an open-mic night at a local coffeehouse. The sign said that this new coffeehouse was to start having an open-mic night every Wednesday evening at 6 o'clock. The idea was planted in my head, but I was still unsure. Like most people, I have a fear of getting up in front of people. I knew that with open-mic nights, I didn't actually have to memorize my poem, that I would have the lines right there, but I was still scared of getting up in front of a bunch of strangers. What if I stumbled on my words? Or didn't put enough "theatrics" into my reading? Indecisiveness can be most annoying. But ultimately I decided to take the plunge and just give it a shot. If I did a crappy job, it wasn't the end of the world. And taking that plunge changed my life, because that's how I met Bobby. I was 18 years old and had started dating about three years ago. Although I had only been in the dating scene only three years, it felt like a long time. Men get so frustrated with women, but I've also found boys/men to be so exasperating. But I call it "affectionate exasperation". Men can be frustrating to be around, but just when I feel like buying a revolver and shooting every man on the planet, some guy somewhere cools me and I ask myself, "Now what could I possibly do without boys in the world?" And that's when I realize that when it comes to boys it's like this: can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em! Well, right now I guess is the point in the story where I should tell you a little bit about myself. As I said, I'm 18 years old. I have long, wavy red hair and green/blue eyes. I'm 5'2" 105 lbs. I'm a senior in high school and am currently looking for a part-time job. And, like most kids in high school, I still live with Ma and Pa and my big brother, Gordy. Gordy is 20 and recently moved back in with us after flunking out of college. For some odd reason, he thought that he needed to attend classes. When it came to a boyfriend, what I wanted was very simple: someone kind, intelligent, funny and free-spirited. I had never found all those qualities in one boy. Shoot, I never even found half those qualities in one boy. But that all changed when I met Bobby. It was a Wednesday evening and I was getting ready to go to the open-mic that evening. I had chosen a poem and folded it, putting it in the pocket of my jeans, making it well hidden in case I decided to chicken out at the last minute and just pretend I was a spectator at the coffeehouse checking out the local poets. I walked into the coffeehouse and there was a lot more people than I had expected! There was maybe about forty or fifty people. There was buzzing conversation going around the room. There was a microphone and a small stage, maybe a foot off the ground, just enough to actually see the writer reciting their work. I took a seat at a table and tried to blend in. I observed the people. It was a very diverse group. There were blacks, whites, older people, younger people, the heavy and the thin. About fifteen minutes later, a man came up onstage. "Hello everyone!" he said enthusiastically. "Welcome to Mrs. Lane's open-mic night!" We clapped and cheered. The speaker definitely was feeding off of our energy and excitement and cracked a few jokes. They were kind of stupid, obvious jokes, but they made me laugh. "Anyway, we welcome any kind of poetry," he said. "And without further ado, I'll leave it up to all you writers out there!" At that he stepped down off the stage and the microphone stood there naked. We looked around at one another and started laughing quietly at our discomfort. Finally, an old lady broke the tension and took the stage. She introduced herself as Miss Mable and she read a poem about her late husband that actually brought tears to my eyes. After Miss Mable had stepped down, we finally got into a rhythm and the tension we had felt at first faded and eventually passed. After the fifth or sixth person had stepped off the stage, I decided I had observed it enough to know what to do and approached the mic. I stepped up on the stage and looked at the small audience before. They all had such friendly faces and I smiled. "Hello all," I cleared my throat. "My name is Amber Lawson and I'm going to read a poem entitled 'The Red Rose'. I've never actually gone to an open-mic night before, so please bare with me," I said. The audience laughed, which helped me relax some, and then I launched into my poem. I had written it a few weeks back and it was about a boyfriend of mine who had broken up with me. I guess pretty routine, teenage stuff, but it felt better to get it out of my system and down on paper, and it actually felt good to be reading it aloud too. After I was done with my poem, the audience clapped and I stepped down off the stage and went back to my seat. I was feeling very high that I had actually gone up there and did it! I actually got up in front of people and I didn't make an ass of myself. I was proud. For the next half-hour or so, there wasn't any poets or poems who moved me particularly until a young man stepped up on the stage. He caught my eye immediately. He had brown hair and brown eyes and was maybe 5'8" or so and had a skinny frame. His plaid shirt was tucked into his jeans, and his jeans fit him well, which surprised me, because the "in" thing with young men's jeans is that they're always five sizes too big. But this pair of jeans fit the guy nicely, and he looked adorable in them. He introduced himself as Bobby McMurray and began reading his poem simply titled "Natalie". If his looks hadn't caught my attention, his poem certainly would've. It was definitely a poem that would go under the category of "erotica". It was a very sexual poem, but in a very subtle way. There was no "let's fuck on the beach" crap - it was more sensual and erotic and creative than that. Before I knew it, he was done and stepped off the stage. I really wanted to know this guy. A while later, the enthusiastic man came up on stage again and thanked us for coming, and to come again next week. Being eight o'clock, the open-mic night was over this week, and I still didn't know what to do about that boy I had noticed. He was sitting in a corner table, smoking a cigarette talking with a man and a woman; a couple it looked like. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't approach him, I was afraid of interrupting his conversation. But I just didn't want to leave either - what if this was the only time I was to see him? What if he wasn't going to come next Wednesday night? I realized I was in a coffee shop and that they also sold coffee. Problem solved. I went up to the cashier and bought a coffee and took my seat. By doing this, I would be able to wait for the boy without looking like a stalker. I knew he introduced his name when he was on stage, but what was it? I was so distracted just by looking at this boy. Brad? Buck? I knew it started with a "B". I sighed at my hopelessness. Most of the people from the open-mic night filed out of the building, but a few, like myself, hung around and had coffee or whatnot. About fifteen minutes later, the couple that the boy was sitting with got up and left. The boy then got up and got himself a coffee and sat back in his seat. I figured out the best way to approach him. I had an idea. I walked over to his table. "Hello," I smiled down at him. "Oh hi," he said with a grin. "Would you like to join me?" This was going better than even my plan. My plan was to invite him to my table, but he solved that problem. "Sure, hold on just a sec." I fetched my coffee from my table and sat across from him. "I'm Bobby," he extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Amber. I thought you were really good tonight, your poem was great." He thanked me and we started talking about our writing projects. I told him I wrote just poems and short stories. I learned that he wrote a variety of things, from poetry to novels to book reviews. In fact, he was a writer for a living. He was writing a novel for his publishing company. The conversation took the natural flow of our favorite writings and writers and literary works. He loved E.E. Cummings. I didn't. He hated Sylvia Plath. I loved her. One thing we did agree on was this: we both despised William Shakespeare. "The guy wrote with such BS!" exclaimed Bobby. I giggled, "I know. He was really a drag." We laughed. He leaned closer towards me and politely studied my face. He didn't look disgusted - he looked rather pleased at what he saw. This made me smile. He grinned, "What's the smile about?" "Oh, well, Bobby with the way you look at me, it seems you like me," I teased. He laughed, "Well, I do. I liked your poem too. Is it non-fiction?" I nodded. "I can't believe a guy would leave you like that," he commented. "Thanks," I replied. Our conversation went onto more personal things. I explained my situation, being in high school and such and he explained his. He was 23 and lived in an apartment on his own across town. He lived about 200 miles from his folks. He said he moved here to live with his girlfriend at the time, but it didn't work out and she threw his ass to the curb. That's when he found his novel-writing job and his new apartment. "It's not easy being a guy," he joked. "It's not easy dating them either!" I quipped. He laughed, "No, I guess we're a little difficult." I knew he lived alone, but he still might have a girlfriend, I thought to myself. He just doesn't live with her. It seemed only natural that the conversation steer into the direction of our dating lives. It was an awkward subject, but I decided to approach. "So Bobby-" I started. "Amber," he interrupted. "Do you mind me asking, do you have a boyfriend?" This guy was making it easy for me tonight! I smiled and told him there was no guy in my life. It was the sweetest way he asked me. He said it casually, but I could tell he would've been a little disappointed if there had been. What a sweetheart! I thought to myself. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked him. "Nah, I'm going stag for right now," he replied. "Do you like it that way?" He shook his head and laughed, "Not really. Every straight man enjoys female company - no matter how much they confuse us." I nodded, "Yeah, I hear you." At that point, we decided to separate for the night. He said he was in the dull part of his novel and that he wanted to get home and hurry through it to get it out of the way. We exchanged phone numbers. "I'll call you tomorrow morning, say, around 10 o'clock?" he asked. "Actually, I'll be in school," I said. "Oh that's right, you're still a high school girl," he retorted. I giggled, "Am I too immature for you then?" He shook his head, "No Ma'am. I'll give you a call around five tomorrow evening. Sound good?" "Sounds good," I agreed. I was hoping he might give me a kiss on the cheek or something before we parted company, but nothing happened. It was still a good night though. A wonderful night, in fact. The next day in school I gushed to my girlfriend Lacey about Bobby. We stood at my locker, talking and getting ready to go to history class. "So is he tall? Is he a hunk?" she asked. I laughed, "Noooo....He just looks like a normal guy." "Blech," she said. "I wouldn't go out with him." I nodded and laughed, "That's your problem! Lace, there no Ralph Lauren models around here. You need a reality check." "Whatever," she retorted. "So does he have a big cock?" "How should I know?" I exclaimed. "Well, did you make a move? You should, you know...I can't believe you're going out with a 23 year old. He's, like, a totally grown man and like, stuff!" I giggled, "Yeah, I know." The bell rang and we rushed to class and slithered into our seats. Bobby did in fact call at 5 p.m. on the nose. I wasn't able to talk long though, as I was making dinner with my Dad. It was a pretty direct conversation. He asked if I would go out with him Friday night. I agreed and gave him my address so he could pick me up. I was so excited! That evening in bed I laid in bed and thought about Bobby. There was something completely different about him than other young men. His writing was well beyond his years and he carried himself like a young man, not like an overgrown boy. Again, I have to go back to his writing. Of course, I only knew that one poem of his, but it was so sexy, so intelligent and clever. He had extreme talent and this added to my attraction for him. My feelings for him were also different than they had been for any other guy. It was like a fire in me, an itch. That uncontrollable itch that every adult knows about that drives every adult crazy till they get what they need and want. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. I became self-conscious when I thought of my virginity. What if we eventually got to the point to having sex? How would I ever tell him? I put it out of my mind and thought again about how cute he was and how talented. I had definitely formed a massive crush very quickly. And I could see myself falling for him just as quickly. In the natural direction where my thoughts were going, it was only fitting that night to get myself into a frenzy, orgasm and fall into a dead sleep. For our date I wore a cute top and short shorts. We were going to dinner and mini-golfing. The doorbell rang and I answered it. There stood Bobby, not looking handsome and refined, but just cute as a button. And off we went. Mini-golfing was a lot of fun. We didn't keep score, we just enjoyed being together. He really didn't know much more about it than I did, but he pretended he did and often stood behind me and held my hands, guiding me on how to putt. I laughed, "Typical man. Think you know everything!" I turned around to face and gave him a friendly shove. He gave me a push, wearing a grin on his face. "Oh, you're getting tough with me, eh?" I shoved him again and he pulled me tight against him, we were laughing as we were teasing each other. As our laughing died down, we looked into each other's eyes and tilted our heads for our first kiss. It was so romantic. It was beneath the night sky, but just enough lights from the golf course to see what we doing. There was so much tenderness in his kiss. After our golf game, we decided to go out to dinner. We sat across from one another. We definitely got each other's humor. We could pick on each other and not take it personally. We talked more about lives - our families, our hobbies, past boyfriends/girlfriends, favorite things, least favorite things, etc. It was fun just getting to know him. With our plates polished off clean, the waitress came by to scoop them up for us. I really didn't want this night to end. What do we do now? I asked myself. "Listen, Amber, would you like to go back to my apartment, just for a little while. I promise won't try anything." I laughed, "Alright, I can go with that." We got in his car and drove to his apartment complex. It was a nice place, well lit-up and not far from our dating spots. "We can go in and get a cup of coffee," he suggested. I smiled, "Sure, that sounds good." I knew exactly what men wanted when they asked a girl if she wanted to come to their place for a cup of coffee. Even though I was a virgin, I wasn't completely naïve to these things. But I also knew that if I was uncomfortable with a situation, Bobby wouldn't pressure me and that I would have the strength to stop before it progressed to something I might not be ready to do. I did want to cuddle and make out with him really bad. Even if that's all there was during this date, that would be okay by me. I just wanted to be close to him. Bobby walked over to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I thanked him and stepped out. We walked up the sidewalk and he slipped his hand in mine. I was slightly nervous. I'm not sure if I had ever gone out with anyone who I liked so much before. And he was 23. That's not really a big age difference, but I'm sure he had been with at least a few girls and that there was at least one girl who was an excellent, experienced lover who had her first boy at the age of 12. I sighed. Whatever we did, I just wanted to do it in a way that would wow him, that would make him want me as much as I wanted him. And I wanted him bad. We walked into his apartment and I looked around. It was a nice little place. I thought it was sexy that he was such an adult to be living on his own. I loved the contrast of our lives. Me still living at home with my parents, still a high school girl and him, a young man who was an independent adult in the world. "Just make yourself at home," he said. "And I'll get that coffee ready." I was just about to take a seat, but I stopped in mid-air. He was actually making coffee? I walked into the kitchenette and leaned up against the wall, grinning. "You're actually making coffee?" I asked. "Mm hmm," he said seriously, as he poured the coffee into the filter. There was a slight, tense pause, then he looked over at me and smiled. "Why are you surprised? Think I was inviting you up here for some other reason?" he walked over to me playfully. "Well..." I blushed slightly. He laughed, "Come on, let's sit down." We took a seat on the couch. He turned on the lamp and I looked down at my body. I wanted to look sexy for him. And I think I did. I had on short shorts that showed plenty of leg and a top where the sleeves hugged my shoulders, baring my neck and making some cleavage available to see at certain angles. I sat on my side facing him, with my legs curled up underneath me. Bobby looked into my eyes for a moment and then looked down at my boobs. I looked down at my boobs then back up at him with a questioning look. "Sorry," he said with low chuckle. "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to look at me - that's why I wore an outfit like this," I said. He slowly tucked my hair behind my ear, "You want me to look at you like that, baby?" he asked. I bit my bottom lip, "Yes, I do." He leaned in and gently planted his lips on mine. I opened mine up to his and he groaned. I couldn't help it when I began to squirm, and this seemed to turn him on more. His hand caressed the side of my body and made it's way up to one of my tits. This time I moaned into his mouth as we kissed. I loved my tits being touched and played with. I reached over, putting my hand on his thigh and trailing it up to his dick. I couldn't believe what I felt. I was rubbing him through his pants and I could tell he was just huge. I only thought men with cocks like that existed in porn movies and all that. "Mmm," he groaned. "Sweetheart, let me take your top off." I sat up and he pulled my top up over my head. I sat there, naked from the waist up looking at him. He loved my big tits, I could tell just by the way he was looking at them. He put his hands on them and started to rub them. "Ohh," I whimpered. "That feels nice." "God, it feels good to me too....Oh my," he said with a hint of curiosity. "What is it?" I asked him. He laughed, deep and low, "Your tits baby, they're real. I was sure they were fake." I smiled, "What made you think that?" "I guess because you have such a little body," he said. I giggled and rubbed his cock through his pants a little rougher. I just couldn't believe how big he was. It was turning me on so much. I sat with my legs under me and leaned over to kiss him, this time more passionate and hornier. My left hand was on his chest and my right hand slithered from his crotch up to my other hand to start undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Oh God," he moaned. "You like this, don't you sweetheart?" Cooling Our Itch Ch. 01 "Yesss, oh yes," I slipped his shirt off his shoulders and admired his chest. It had a little bit of hair on it and it was just nice looking. None of those ridiculous six-pack abs or any of that, just a nice chest on a nice boy. I ran my hands along his chest as we kissed. He ran his hands along my bottom. Fuck, I loved him touching my body. I wanted more. I separated my lips from his for a minute and started to undo my shorts. "Oh fuck yeah," he said. "Let me help you." He pulled the zipper down and struggled to get my tight shorts off my body. I laughed, "Sorry." "Damn!" he exclaimed. "These are tight. How did you get these things on in the first place?" "I can always take them off later," I said, pulling my shorts back up, just teasing him some. "Oh baby, you can't do that to me." He said. I giggled and he laughed, "No precious, they have to come off now." With a few more grunts from us struggling, we got the impossible shorts off which also brought down my cotton panties. I was completely naked before him now. He looked over my body, focusing on my smooth, wet pussy, which he started to fondle with his fingers and we were kissing again. The heat was unbelievable. I had never wanted someone so badly, and I could tell he wanted me too. We were breathing heavy into each other's mouths, molesting and caressing each other. I wanted to show him how hot I was so I started to undo his belt buckle. "Oh sweetheart," he moaned. I got up off the couch and kneeled before him. He lifted his butt up off the couch and I pulled down his jeans all the way, taking off his socks and shoes too. His dick was big and delicious looking. It must've been around 8 or 9 inches long and there was precum at the tip. I wrapped my lips around the head and started to blow him. He moaned and stroked my hair, urging me on. Obviously, I couldn't get all of his dick into my mouth, so I took what I could. It tasted so good and he gently thrust his cock in between my lips. We went on like this for several minutes when he asked if I wanted to go the bedroom. I agreed anxiously and followed him to his room. He opened up the blinds of his second floor apartment and the moonlight shone in, giving his room and blue tint. We stood there both naked as the day we were born. "I-I've never done this before," I said. "It's okay baby, I'll show you." He laid down on the bed and told me to come lay next to him, which I did. We began making out again and I stroked his dick while he fingered my pussy. I moved my hips up and down. His fingers felt so good but I wanted more. My body was telling him to give me more. I suddenly felt like I was long overdue for sex. I had done it once in 18 years and now all of sudden, I needed it right now, this instant. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him on top of me, spreading my legs. I caressed his shoulders and his back. "Mmm Bobby, I want it bad. I want it real bad tonight," I told him. He chuckled, "Are you sure you haven't done this before baby? I mean, your talk is so dirty sweetheart. It's experienced." I giggled, "Well, I'm experienced with dirty talk. But with dirty talk only." He moaned, "Are you ready precious?" I nodded, "I'm ready." I spread my legs up for him as far as I could. He jacked off for a minute, just looking at my body, then gently started to push the head in. He was stretching me, but the real pain didn't start until a minute later when he hit my hymen. There was a sad look on his face. "What's wrong?" I asked. "This is going to hurt you baby. I don't want to hurt you." "It's okay," I said. "I want you." "I want you, too, baby," he said. He kissed me and slowly, little by little, pushed into my virgin body. A few hot tears streamed down my face. He kissed them away and asked if he should stop. I told him not to stop, to keep going. With a slow pace, he continued. Inch by inch. I was nervous and kept asking if it was in all the way and he kept telling me it wasn't. It was like his cock was eternal. Eventually though, it was in all the way. He asked me if I was okay. I smiled, "Yes, I feel fine. This feels perfect." He groaned, "You feel perfect baby." He gently pushed in and out of my body with long, slow strokes of his cock. I moaned in pleasure and, seeing that I was enjoying myself, sped up some. He went step by step until our lovemaking was fast and passionate and sweaty. His chest laid on top of mine as he pumped away. I did my best to have my hips meet his thrusts. I was breathing heavy, having this sexy guy on top of me, having his sweat soil my skin. We were grunting and panting. "God, yes Bobby! Yes!" I exclaimed. "Oh, oh fuck. Damn it, you're so damn tight. God, I'm not going to last long sweetheart, I'm sorry," he moaned. And sure enough, he came about a minute later. In a way, I was proud that he couldn't control himself with me. But I also heard that young men didn't last long in bed. Either way, I gave my virginity to him and I realized how lucky I was to give myself to a man that I was in love with. It had only been a few days, but it doesn't take long for two people to fall in love. Well, for me to fall in love. Maybe he didn't actually love me, maybe he just liked me a lot. He slipped his shrinking dick out of my pussy and he laid back next to me, exhausted. We had had unprotected sex, but I wasn't worried. All would work out. I was in love. I cuddled up next to him. "That was so nice Bobby. Oh, you were so good," I told him. He panted, "Thank you sweetheart. Damn it, you are tight, little one! No man could last long like that. Were you in very much pain baby?" "I was at first, but it went away. I loved it. I loved doing it with you." He groaned, "God, me too." He leaned over and kissed me. I could feel his cum running out of my pussy. My pussy was slightly sore. Bobby was a big boy when it came to what he carried in his pants and it was my first time, so I definitely felt stretched and "activated". "Mmmm," I moaned. "You must've have a lot of experience." "No, not really. I've only slept with three women, including you. Of course, the number of times I did it with them is private information." I giggled, "I understand." He reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. We laid there for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company. He put out his cigarette and wrapped his arm around me. I was at a loss for words, but in a good way. "Bobby, did I do a good job tonight?" No response.... "Bobby?" I looked over at him and he was sleeping like an angel. An erotica-writing, cigarette-smoking angel. I snuggled in close to him and fell asleep in his arms. A while later I heard my cell phone going off like a madman. I opened my eyes and realized I was in Bobby's bed. I looked at the clock. It was a little after two in the morning. "Holy crap!" I exclaimed. Bobby started awake, "What? What's going on sweetie?" he said rubbing his eyes awake. "I was suppose to be home three hours ago. Damn it." I rushed into the living room to answer my cell phone from my purse. It was my Dad and he was steaming from the ears. But I also realized he was just worried sick about me. My Dad never cried, but I could tell from the quivering of his voice, he was not far off from crying. I apologized and I started to cry too, for worrying him so. I promised to be home as soon as possible. I hurriedly got dressed as Bobby walked in, asking what was going on. I explained the situation to him. He understood completely and with a quick kiss good night, I was on my way home. Curfew had completely blew my mind. My Dad and I got into a spat when we got home. But, being the middle of the night, we were both exhausted, for different reasons and separated to our bedrooms. The next several weeks Bobby and I continued to see each other. Making love, going to open-mic nights, reading and writing poems to one another, going out to dinner. My parents were a little concerned - never before had a boy distracted me so much. They were a little uneasy about him being 23, but they didn't say too much about it. I guess that's what a daughter's job is, to make her parents uneasy. We were at an open-mic night, sitting together at the same table when someone remarked that we looked and acted like an old married couple. We chuckled and watched each poet as they got up on stage. I had one poem I wanted to read that night, but Bobby was just a spectator for that week. Before I knew it, open-mic night was over for that week and Bobby and I continued to sit at our table and talk. I brought up the subject of spring break, that it was only two weeks away. "I'll be so happy to get a break of school," I laughed. "I'm sure, baby. Say, I have an idea," he said. "What's that?" "How about you and me go somewhere on your spring break? We could go anywhere you want to sweetheart." I grinned widely, "Really?" He laughed, "Yes, baby, anywhere you want." I beamed from ear to ear. I had never taken a trip with a guy before! "I'd like to go the Mall of America." I told him. "Then that's where we'll go," he said. We were both so excited to be taking a trip together! I just couldn't believe I'd get to spend ten straight days with the man I was in love. I wouldn't have to worry about parents or homework or anything like that. And it worked out good for him too, as he had been working very hard on his new book and needed a change. I worried about what my parents might say, but I knew they trusted me, and it was my decision in the long run anyway. The next day I calmly explained to my parents what my plans for Spring Break were. They absolutely "forbad it", as they like to say. There was a screaming match back and forth, a little swearing, and in the end, small pieces of property, like the tv remote control was destroyed beyond recognition. A few hours later, Bobby and I sat down at his kitchen table with a map and decided the best possible route to take. The Mall of America was about a 16 hour drive from where we were. We decided we would drive 8 hours the first day, 8 hours the second day, and start our mall escapade the third day. I was absolutely thrilled that Bobby and I were going to be spending so much time together. It thrilled me and made me horny. He could tell, as I hurriedly spread myself on the table and pulled him on top of me. Cooling Our Itch Ch. 02 I arrived at Bobby's house the first day of Spring Break about 8 o'clock in the morning. We were both very excited and started to unload my luggage into his car, as we were only taking his vehicle. He looked inside at my two duffle bags and make-up case. "All this?" he asked, looking confused. "Well, yeah," I said. "How much stuff did you bring?" He chuckled and picked up my make-up case, "Honey, this is about the size of my suitcase." I giggled and helped him unload my luggage and put it into his car. Within fifteen minutes or so, we were on the road, giggling and chattering excitedly like a couple of junior high kids. I looked over at him. He had a mop of brown hair and very nice brown eyes. I looked at his hair again and giggled. The poor boy had such a problem trying to tame it - it looked like he never even attempted to comb it at all. I thought it was the cutest damn thing. He asked me what I was giggling about. "You're just so cute!" I said to him excitedly. He chuckled and I could see him blush a little bit, "Well, you are very cute too baby." I saw him quickly glance down at my breasts. I knew he was absolutely in love with them. I had a slim frame on a 5'2" body, but during puberty, my breasts did a thing of their own and had blossomed into a 34C. Okay okay, not enough to cause back pain, but still quite big on a girl of my frame. "Thank you," I said. "You really love my chest," I laughed. He laughed, "Baby, I really love all of you." As I said in my first chapter of this story, I knew I had fallen in love with Bobby a while ago, but I never said anything because I was afraid he didn't feel the same way. But now I knew he did feel the same way. "I love you too," I said, looking at him. "Thank you Amber, sweetheart." We made conversation about regular, everyday things. We talked about my upcoming graduation from high school. I was excited about having him there at graduation. We talked more about this and that for the next hour or so. Then I rolled down the passenger window and slipped off my shoes, sticking my feet out the window. I leaned up against Bobby's shoulder and tilted my head down. I had been up since about 5:30 or 6:00 and was kind of sleepy and drifted off. A little while later, I felt someone shaking me very gently. I opened my eyes sleepily. Bobby was the one shaking me awake and we were in a kind of gas station/diner type of place. I gazed up at him. "Hi," I said smiling. "Hi Baby," he said, sweeping my hair out of my eyes. "Sweetheart, I'm starving and I need to fill up on gas. Do you want to get a quick lunch inside the diner?" I nodded and yawned, "Sure, that sounds good." We sat there for a moment. With a need for gas and lunch, I expected him to move at least some. I looked up at him with a questioning look. He grinned, "I just like being here with you baby, and looking at you." He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I noticed he had parked in a secluded part of the parking lot. I kissed him and he began kissing me back, stroking my hair, touching my body. I ran my hands up and down his chest and could feel the heat building. My hand touched his dick and it was hard and big for me. "Ohhh," I moaned. He laughed, "I'm so frustrated! I just want to do it here and now, baby." I giggled, "Me too....Well, why can't we? Maybe not right here, but someplace nearby." He began kissing me passionately. "I think I know where we can go baby," he said, starting up the car with such urgency that it almost scared me a little. The wheels squealed as he pulled out of his parking space. I clung to the dashboard. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove several miles down the road. He turned onto a secluded road, surrounded by the woods. "Do you know where we're going?" I asked him, looking around. "No," he said. "I'm just looking for someplace private." I started to giggle, "I've never seen you this horny before!" "Well, you did it!" he said. "You did it to me baby!" A couple miles down, he pulled to the side of the road. He jumped out of his side of the car and ran over to my side, opening my door. He grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hillside. I couldn't stop from giggling. And my giggling couldn't stop him from laughing. My pussy was so wet for him. It was April in the Midwest and it was muggy as hell, and I couldn't wait to get my clothes off - for several different reasons. We found a secluded spot and began to pull our clothes off hurriedly, not really saying much to each other. With everything off of him first, he laid down on the ground waiting for me. I slid my panties off and was completely naked and spread my legs over his cock that stood up in excitement. I guided it into my wet, waiting pussy and I sighed a great relief when I felt it go into me. We were already sweaty from the weather and about to get sweatier. I began to ride his cock, my hips hungrily eating up his body. "Oh fuck!" I squealed. "God, Amber," he moaned to me. "Fuck it, ride my cock baby. Yess, just like that, just like that precious." "Ohh Bobby," I groaned. Breathing heavily, it didn't take us long to cum at all. My pussy lips squeezed his cock as I came and I could feel him spurting inside me. I collapsed on top of him. I was panting and my hair was a mess. After a few minutes of lying there, I crawled off of his body and helped him to his feet. We were glowing after sex, and hurriedly got dressed, especially hungry now. We drove back to the diner/gas station place and holding hands and laughing, we walked in for lunch like a couple of crazy teenagers (instead of just one). During lunch, we sat on the same side of the booth, cuddling, making our afterglow apparent to everyone, but not really caring. Soon we were back on the road and it seemed that time flew by as we cuddled and kissed and talked in the car. It seemed to take no time at all to reach our destination and to check into our hotel. I was unbelievably horny and so was he and we made love slowly, using the hotel bed for all it was worth. Then we made good use of the floor with a quick fuck, and went out for a late dinner and falling into bed. It was late in the night and I lay there restlessly. I looked at the clock - it read 5:41 a.m. I couldn't sleep and my skin was itchy. I got up in the dark and searched my way to the bathroom and was in shock at what I saw in the mirror. Almost my entire body was covered in a rash! No wonder I was itching so bad. Well, now what the hell was I going to do? I turned around and looked at the backside of my body. Some of my back and my bottom was covered in the same rash. What the....It was that nude sex in the woods! Come to think of it, I think I had felt something rubbing against my back, some kind of plant, but when you're in that position, plants aren't exactly on your mind. I squealed. I heard Bobby roll out of bed and then I heard a thump. "Ow!" I peaked out into the bedroom and Bobby was lying on the floor, "Bobby, are you alright?" "Yes Baby, I enjoy making love to a carpet at 5:30 in the morning," he got up off the floor and shook his head awake. "Now what's all this ruckus you're screaming about?" "This!" I shrieked, backing into the lighted bathroom, showing him my red skin. "Oh jeez," he said, looking my body up and down. "Turn around baby." I did as he instructed. He scratched his head, "What could this be?" "It's that woods-fuck!" I yelled at him. "You made me fuck in the woods, and now my skin is all itchy! You pervert!" "Don't yell at me! What are you yelling at me for?" "Because," I said. "I feel like crap and I want you to feel like crap too." He ran his hands along my skin, "Oh baby, this has got to be poison ivy or some kind of allergic reaction. We'll go to the ER right now, we have to get this checked out." I looked up at him. His compassion almost wanted to make me cry, "Oh Bobby, I'm sorry I blamed you. It's not like you raped me. I was just frustrated. My skin has been itching so bad." He lead me into the bedroom and flicked on a light, "It's alright baby, that's what boyfriends are for," he laughed. "Let's get dressed, sweetheart." "I hope it's not crowded in the ER," I said. "It won't be, precious. Believe me, I've hit my head enough times to know when hospitals are slow and when they're buzzing," he said as he slipped on a pair of jeans over his boxers and pulled on a t-shirt. I was finishing getting dressed myself, pulling my shorts and shirt over my panties and bra. He made sure we had our keys and such and off we went to the hospital. We went to a lady who was sitting behind a desk and she directed us to the ER where we spoke with a secretary about my symptoms, insurance info (non-existent) and so forth. She told us to take a seat in the waiting room and did as she said. "You know," Bobby started. "I think I might have some of what you have." "What do you mean?" I asked. "Well, the inside of my thighs, especially my left thigh has been itchy." "How come you didn't tell that to the lady?" "I'm not paying for two people, baby," he told me. "We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and then I'll do the same treatment to heal myself." "But what if I have a prescription or something?" I asked him curiously. "Well, we'll have to split the pills, babe. That's what pill-cutters are for." "That's what they're for," I said to him seriously. "Yep," he said confidently. A shapely woman came to the waiting room and called out my name, "Amber?" "Yes, right here," I said, standing up. "Right this way please," she said. I followed her as Bobby stayed behind in the waiting room. The shapely nurse and I walked into the ER room and I took my seat on the high table, and she took hers, asking me questions. How long have I been itching, was I allergic to any medications, the usual stuff. She then took my temperature, my blood pressure and looked inside my mouth, ears and eyes. Finally, she pulled out a paper gown and instructed me to slip it over my bra and panties while I waited for the doctor. I stood up and attempted to put the gown on. One side was completely open with strings to tie. I put it on as best as I could, but it felt like I had it on backward. I deemed it good enough and took a seat again on the table. A minute later, someone knocked at the door and entered. It was a short, bald man that reminded of Gandhi. He introduced himself and asked me what was the problem. I told him about my rashes, pointing them out as I talked. I talked about going for a "hike" in the woods with my boyfriend and he began to inspect me. He stood behind me and told me to lean forward. "I notice there's some of the rash on your lower back, Miss," he said. I nodded, "Yes, I -" He held up his hand, "No need to explain. I was once young too. Of course, I was in medical school instead of the woods, but still, it's all the same I suppose." He took a seat in front of me and explained to me that he knew with 100% certainty that I had poison ivy and that I could've only gotten it if I were exposed to the plant. Having told him I went on a "hike" with Bobby, he knew that that's where I got the poison ivy - I could tell this guy graduated top of his class. As for treatment, he told me to wear lightweight cotton clothes as much as possible so my skin could breathe and to use some kind of anti-itch cream, like Calamine lotion and just to wait it out and that would it go away by itself in about a week. "A week!" I exclaimed. "That's my whole Spring Break!" "I'm sorry, Miss. Now, if the rash doesn't go away within a week, you definitely have to come back and see why it's not going away." We talked for a few minutes more and he left me to dress and go back to the hotel with Bobby. I went out to the waiting room and sat beside him, telling him what the doctor said. Bobby and I left to a 24-hour store where we bought a few bottles of Calamine lotion. Back at the hotel, I stripped naked and Bobby helped me put the lotion on my body. "We'll let that dry on your body, sweetheart, and then you can put on one of my shirts," he said, pulling out one his big cotton t-shirts for me to wear. He held out his hand, holding the shirt. I looked passed his hand and saw that the crotch of his jeans were bulging. I started giggling, "You're hard again?" He laughed and sat beside me, "Well, sure baby. You're naked in front of me, that's going to make me horny." After the lotion had dried, I slipped on one of Bobby's big cotton t-shirt and curled up into bed to catch up on my sleep. Yesterday we had been on the road most of the day and I didn't even get a decent night's sleep. After a while I just enjoyed lying there itch-free and eventually drifted off to sleep. A few hours later I woke up to the sound of Bobby in the bathroom. I heard him curse under his breath and then I heard something fall. I got up out of bed and went to the bathroom, where the door was already open. He stood there naked, now he was as beat red as I was, the rash had spread all over his body too. "Oh jeez, it got you too, huh?" I asked. "No, this is my skin's natural hue," he said frustrated. He was attempting to put the lotion on his body, but he couldn't reach all the places, so we did what most couples do on their vacations: we spread anti-itch cream on one another. The poor boy was covered just like I was. "This thing," I said. "It's an entity!" I looked in the mirror. "We look like packaged meat!" "Damn it," he cursed. "I can't believe this is happening to me." "But you can believe that it's happening to me?" I asked defensively, standing with my hand on my hips. "Well, I'm a guy. Things like this just don't happen to guys, baby," he said. "God's punishing you for sleeping with a man in the great outdoors." I rolled my eyes, "Oh Brother. You think Adam and Eve had a Best Western?" He chuckled, "Hey, don't knock it." He cringed as he pulled on his boxers and a cotton t-shirt. I looked at us in the mirror. Our hair was greased back from not showering and Bobby's face had a shadow from not shaving. All our exposed skin pores looked like raspberries who had decided, out of boredom, to take a dip in a tub of Pepto Bismal. I groaned, "What are we going to do for a shower?" "What do you mean?" "Well," I started, as we walked back to our bed - our sanctuary for all the wrong reasons. "Do you think we should take cold showers or hot showers? I would think hot showers would just inflame the skin." He nodded, "That makes sense. Sounds good to me." He laid down on the bed, while I sat up, continuing to talk, "And all the money I was going to spend at the mall is going to go towards stupid things, like food," I whined. He groaned, "Would you just pipe down? We're not dying are we?" "Well, no, I-" "Okay then," he said. "Then quit acting like a drama queen. I can never meet a normal girl." "You think you're so normal?" I asked him. "I never heard of sharing prescriptions. Cheapskate." I laid down on the bed, exasperated. He leaned up on his shoulder, "What did you call me?" "I called you a 'cheapskate' - you got a problem with that?" I said defensively. "Do you have money? Do you make a living?" he asked angrily. "Bobby-" "I get up every morning and do my work and bring home the bacon. I have bills to pay, rent to pay, food to buy. God knows I bust my ass at that computer five hours a day." "Now it's your turn to pipe down," I said, looking him dead in the eye. He knew that tone of voice. He knew he had to settle his scrawny ass down and be quiet or there was going to be hell to pay - big time. That evening we decided to order a pizza to the hotel room. Bobby flicked on the tv and I came out of the bathroom after the pizza had been delivered. With our Calamine lotion, (our current best friend) and a nap in the afternoon, we were in slightly better moods. He shook his head, "That was so silly the way we were fighting this morning." I nodded, "Definitely. I guess we were both just cranky." He put his slice of pizza down and wiped his hands off, wrapping his arm me. "Baby, how about a shower after dinner?" he asked me with a smile. I giggled, "Aw, that sounds romantic." "You know, no matter miserable and itchy I am, I still want to be close to you baby," he said. "I feel the same way," I said grinning at him. The Calamine lotion really did a lot for our rashes, but it felt caked onto my skin. I figured I'd get all washed up in the shower and put on a fresh coat before bed. A fresh coat? I shook my head. Suddenly I had turned into a painter's professional project. We gobbled up our pizza like swine, as we hadn't eaten all day. Bobby went to the bathroom and started up our shower. I put the pizza box aside and stripped down to my birthday suit and joined him in the bathroom, where he was also naked. I noticed his big cock was jutting out from his body. I blushed in excitement. Of course, you couldn't tell I was excited, because my skin was already red. But it still counted for something. "Does that feel okay, baby?" he asked, referring to the temperature of the water. I put my hand under the spray and nodded. I stepped under the showerhead and he followed. I stood there shivering for a minute and realized I had forgotten my bar of Zest and my shampoo bottle. I darted out of the shower, my cold, wet body making for an even colder trip to my bag to fish out my soap and shampoo. With my paraphernalia in hand, I ran back to the retreat of the ice cold water, which made my nipples stick out, my body shake and my teeth chatter. "Sweetheart, can I borrow some of your soap and shampoo? I forgot mine at home," he asked. I nodded, "Sure Bobby, anything." I quickly got to work, hastily washing my red, sore body, wanting to get out of the freezing water as soon as possible. I realized Bobby was just standing there, his shoulders huddled, his body shaking. The poor darling was so cold in the shower, that he couldn't bare to move. I giggled, "You're not going to get any warmer by standing there like a lump." "Brrr," was all he said and eventually got into the idea that this was a shower and we were suppose to clean ourselves, regardless if the temperature was only fit for penguins. I hurriedly washed my hair and stepped to the side so that Bobby could get under the showerhead. He stood there like a rock. "Bobby?" no answer. "Bobby, sweetie," I held his shoulders. "It's your turn to get under the showerhead." "Huh? Oh oh, yeah, right," he said, standing beneath the cold and cleaning himself the best he could. We stepped out of the shower, drying our skin gently. We were like two delicate, porcelain dolls. Two beat-red, mouthy, cranky, porcelain dolls. We went out to the bedroom area with our towels wrapped around our bodies, waiting to dry off completely, and as I said before, just waiting and anticipating for that great moment when we would get our fresh coat of anti-itch lotion. We didn't talk very much over the next twenty minutes or so. I was drying my hair with the hotel hairdryer and Bobby was sitting on the edge of the bed and I could see the bags under his eyes. It looked like his head was going to fall into his neck. After my hair and body was all dry, again we put on another layer of Calamine lotion on each other and hit the hay. I will not bore the reader with the activities of the next several days, because I would only be repeating myself. During the day we slept a few hours, put on our lotion and took cold showers. In the night we slept even less, put on our lotion and argued over which infomercials to watch. That Saturday, one week from the day that we had started on our adventure, we decided to head on home. Our rashes and blisters had been clearing up the last half a day or so, and since we had an 8 hour drive ahead of us, and I had to go back to school on Monday, we thought it best to head back home on Saturday morning. Cooling Our Itch Ch. 02 So tiredly, without much being said, we packed our bags into his car and checked out of the hotel room. Out on the road, I could tell Bobby was exhausted, and after 4 hours of driving, I volunteered to take the wheel. He leaned up against my shoulder and snored softly as he slept. That day of driving seemed to take forever! All I wanted to do was go home and get in bed and sleep until Monday morning. And I knew Bobby had the same plans for himself. So around 6 p.m. I pulled up into my parents driveway and we started to unload his car with all my stuff. Fortunately, only my Dad was home at the time, downstairs in the basement working. I'm glad he was occupied while my Mom happened to be out of the house - I didn't really feel like explaining the situation to them right then. Bobby and I hauled my bags into the living room, your poor and huddled masses. Poison Ivy was absolutely miserable, and even with our lotion, we got very little sleep because we were like two anxious bugs, just itching away. I invited him up to my bedroom where we could sleep in my queen sized bed - a bed my parents gave me when they got a new one for themselves. At this point, my parents had never met Bobby, and so they wouldn't be thrilled about him sleeping with their daughter underneath their roof. But what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them - and I didn't plan on telling them. I acknowledged the fact that they would see Bobby's car out in the driveway and so I moved it down the block and also bringing Bobby's bags, excuse me, bag, into the house. I headed back upstairs and Bobby was already fast asleep in my bed and I curled up beside him, soon to be asleep myself. But not telling the folks that he was in the house was one thing, but the other problem was, how the hell was I going to get him out of the house?