3 comments/ 48303 views/ 4 favorites World Issues Project By: ero In Canada, specifically the province of Ontario, high school sucked worse than anywhere else did on the continent. There's a reason for this. We had to go to school for five years. They had this thing where in order to go to university you had to have six OAC's (Ontario Academic Credits). The OAC year was the fifth year. And EVERYONE was expected to try to go to university. Hence the sucking. My name is Ethan. I'm not the classic porn story jock who's six foot two, two-hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle with a ten inch dick. Nor am I the classic porn story five foot five one hundred and eight pounds soaking wet, with a foot long dong, nerd-who-gets-laid guy. Instead I'm the not so classic long-haired five foot eleven inches tall, one hundred and sixty pound guitar player that got laid once when I was twelve years old but hasn't since. Now that's one sorry set of blue balls I had, let me tell you. My high school days were not exactly a time of prosperity for me. I was part of the Goth crowd. In fact, you might say I ran the Goth clique at our school...though I wouldn't have called myself "Goth". I didn't wear the makeup or dress all in black or have any spiked collars or any of that stuff. My wardrobe consisted primarily of jeans and tee shirts. I did however wear a trench coat and that set the stage for my acceptance with that crowd (though man did I ever catch a lot of flak after the Columbine shootings). Funny thing is that I didn't seek them out. I just sat in a corner during spares or lunch hour (or during class when I wanted a break) and played guitar. Going to a primarily jock filled school and hanging out with a goth crowd does not add for a lot of harmony. We were fine with people and people generally seemed fine with me, though it was rare that my crew could get through fifteen minutes without someone being called 'gay' or 'fag' and the girls stuff like 'dyke' or 'slut'. As I said though, people generally didn't have much of a problem with me because I was quiet, smart and, despite my average frame, looked intimidating. At the time however, I felt under attack just as much as anyone else in my little "posse" did. Now in most of these stories there's a perfect girl (or guy, I suppose...though it's a girl here) that the protagonist (that's me) really wanted. Off hand, I can think of three people I really wanted. Two of them were friends though and I had no idea about how to approach them about starting a relationship. The third person, I had never even talked to. I knew her only by name. Tabitha was THE girl. Every guy wanted her and every girl wanted to be her. I was no different from the rest of the guys in this respect. She was tall and had long dark hair and brown eyes that really captured you (as you'll see in a bit). She was slim and voluptuous and had a set of wonderfully pouty lips. Her skin was pale and my god was it smooth to the touch! I had a dream about god coming down from the heavens and taking on a female form and she was hot, but didn't really compare to Tabitha. The morning things started, I wasn't having a good day. A friend of mine had been beaten up pretty badly and I was the person who had found him and called the ambulance. This of course made me late for school and we all know how forgiving office administration is. Yes, that's my teeth you can hear grinding. Well, long story short here, I ended up with a week of detention . . . after talking my way out of a suspension (this wasn't my first late incident. And to my sympathisers, don't worry--I've never showed up to any of the detention days). So thinking that famous last thought "at least nothing else can go wrong" fate kicked me in the crotch. I went to my English class to find out that I had just missed a quiz. "Mr. Guilder, you've just missed your quiz," said Mr. Fallson. He had a cocky smile on his face and his balding head was shining in just the right position that the glare was right in my eyes. "Sorry sir, I was in the office," I replied. I would have gone into more details, but he wouldn't have cared. He was one of those teacher types that was in it to teach us young punks a lesson. "Well, then I'll check with them and assuming you were, I'll develop a harder quiz for you to do during the detention you would have been given. I assume you finished your Othello essay?" he asked. The thing about school, be it grade school, high school or university, is that I've rarely ever handed anything in on time. Mr. Fallson knew this. So, of course we had this discussion loud enough for everyone to hear in front of the class. "No sir," I replied. "Hmph. Surprise, surprise," he stated in that smug, irritating voice. "I'm afraid I can't give you an assessment until all your outstanding assignments are handed in." I just nodded and sat down at my seat, but not before catching Tabitha's eye briefly. When a guy has a crush, he can read things into the smallest gestures. The only thing I saw in that glance was a bit of pity, and maybe some amusement. I sat through that period and the next just waiting for lunch. I needed a break. The lunch bell rang and everyone got up at the same time, as always. The crowds thickening down the hallways into the stairwells all headed to their individual lockers. I was no different except that I was probably a lot more cranky than most people. I met every challenging stare with one of my own that probably would have gotten me killed in certain areas of the country. I didn't care. I started walking toward the stairway that would take me to my locker and the crowd seemed to just melt. As I was going down the stairs, there was only one other person that seemed to be heading up that I hadn't rounded the bend and was thus out of my sight at the moment. I got ready to glare and lo and behold my shock when I found myself staring into Tabitha's eyes. Now, proper stranger eye contact etiquette dictates that the correct thing would have been for me to look past her, as though something interesting has caught my eye. It would also dictate that she do the same. Neither of us did. I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine. It felt like an eternity. In reality it was seven seconds. Not long, right? Bullshit. You try looking into a veritable stranger's eyes for seven seconds and tell me how long you think it is. The interesting thing about it though was the fact that I couldn't read anything from that look. I didn't see any pity, amusement, malice, scorn or any of those other things that I had trained myself to look for. The only thing I could identify was the smallest bit of anxiety. Throughout lunch my mood brightened. I was informed that the friend that I had found was awake and despite numerous fractured ribs and a pretty nasty concussion he'd be ok. No one came looking for me for that detention (detentions were served at lunch in my school) and my lunch consisted of a twenty dollar bill...which I used to buy pizza. Tabitha was also in my next class, significantly doing its part to make me happier. When I got to class the person who sat at my table was already there. He was a pretty cool guy and despite being a jock he had a friendly attitude towards me and my friends. In fact we probably would have been pretty good friends if I knew him outside of school at all. "Hey Ethan, what's kickin'?" he asked me as I sat down. "Not too much dude, you?" I replied. He was also one of the luckiest people I know because earlier that month he began working on his end of semester project with Tabitha. He was happy about that, as any guy in his position would be. We basically just chatted for a few minutes till class started. Our real teacher wasn't there today so a sub came in and told us to work on our projects. Greg (the guy I sat with) sighed at this point. Everyone got up and moved to their partner's desks except Greg and myself. For me, this was understandable, as I was working alone. Greg's behaviour however was confusing. I was about to question him about it when Tabitha walked over to us and began talking with him. What they said was lost on me, as I was directing all my will into not staring at the ample bust that had just been placed in front of me. I'm pretty weak willed, it seems. "Can I borrow your text book?" Those were the first words she ever said to me. I nearly drowned in her eyes this time. "Please, be my guest," I replied. Man did I ever think I was smooth. I said it without the slightest hint of a waver in my voice. My stomach was a sea of acid however. "Thanks!" she said, then bounced back to her table. I didn't even try to stop staring this time. I figured I had good cause. After all, she had my textbook, right? "You want her?" Greg asked me. "Pardon?" I was stunned. Of course I wanted her. Everyone did. Redundant questions bothered me. "I can't stand being her partner for this fucking thing. Wanna trade partners?" All I could do was nod. Thinking back on it, it was the logical thing for him to do anyway. Greg worked in a library and could get all his information there. I didn't. I needed a partner. "Good," he said. "Tab! Hey, you wanna work with Ethan? He doesn't have a partner." "What about you?" she replied. "I'm good." She looked at me, kind of shrugged and said, "Yeah, sounds good." And that was the end of it. Tabitha and I were now partners for this project that would go on till the end of the semester. I smiled at her, one of those awkward little 'so-what-now?' type of smiles. She gave me the same look. Ah well, time to bite the bullet, I thought, and stood up. She stood up too. This confused me and the lack of verbal communication was killing me. I bit another bullet. "Err...did you want me to go there or did you want to come to my desk?" I asked. I was handling this worse than a job interview. She was smiling. "It's ok, I'll go there," she said with a bit of a laugh. My god did that girl have a beautiful face! I watched as she walked the five steps to my desk with a big stupid grin on my face that actually hurt once I let it go. Only a man can ever look that foolish. As she came over and sat down the possibility of me concentrating was totally lost as I found myself stealing glances at the open cleft in her shirt. The view was incredibly stimulating, as I was beginning to create quite a tent in my pants. Of course, I couldn't feel it and didn't have any idea about it, until I realised she hadn't been speaking for a few seconds and she had cut herself off midsentence. Then I noticed her eyes looking down not quite at the textbook. She was looking at my hard-on! The bell rang suddenly and her head jerked upwards. She looked a bit surprised for a split second then smiled at me. "We should get together this weekend and get some material established," she said. "Can I get your number?" I couldn't resist. "We just met and you're already asking for my number! Tabitha! I must have made a pretty good impression," I said, writing down my number on a piece of paper. "Yeah, you were real smooth..." she said, as she casually brought her finger up to "adjust" her shirt at the V where I had been staring. I didn't know what to do. Girls didn't like it when guys did stuff like that, right? See, that's the problem with the education sector these days. Guys are told that girls don't like anything to do with sex, and the girls are told that they aren't supposed to do anything "slutty". Our lives would be a lot happier if we were given the truth about sex at an early age and not left with vague, incorrect assumptions. "Sunday sound good to you? I'm busy the rest of the weekend with my boyfriend." That got rid of my hardness pretty quick. As a quick note to the women out there, mention of the word boyfriend is a great way to stop most people in their tracks. "Sunday's good. Your number?" I asked. "Don't worry, I'll call you," she said and that was the last I saw of her till the weekend. Friday nights for me were nothing special. They were just another night of the week. Since I had turned eighteen last year I could sign my own notes at school and took advantage of "sick days". This meant that on any day of the week I felt like staying out and having fun, I did. Of course, this meant that I was failing most of my classes, including the World Issues class I had with Tabitha. It didn't really matter; I had all 30 credits I'd need to graduate. I just didn't have the six OAC credits necessary for university. That Friday night however, was special. I was sitting at home just after midnight when my phone rang. Now, my parents had this thing about the phone not ringing after 10:00 unless it was an emergency. If my mother was home and my father was sober, I'm sure I would have heard about it sometime Saturday afternoon. Regardless, neither was the case so I answered the phone to a very drunk Tabitha. "Hey Ethan! It's Tab, and I'm very drunk and very sad," she said...cheerily. I figured she was joking. "Ok...why are you sad? It's after midnight," I replied. "Let's work on the thing now...you know...Come over to my house," she said. The girl was both very drunk and there was definitely something wrong in her voice. My mind was racing with only two distinct possibilities. The first was that her being my partner was all a joke and she'd have her boyfriend and a bunch of his friends over to kick the crap out of me for various reasons. The second, which I hoped for, but thought was outside the possibility of my reality, was that she was horny, just dumped her boyfriend and her parents were away for the weekend. "I don't know where you live," I lied, "and your parents probably wouldn't want me over this late at night." I don't think there was a guy at the school that didn't know where she lived. "They're gone. My address is 386 Partrage Road," she said with a giggle. Why she laughed, I didn't know. "Ok, give me half an hour," I said, and hung up the phone. I stood up and went to my closet and pulled out my uniform: a pair of jeans (ripped in the left knee) and a slightly faded royal purple tee shirt. As I got dressed I went over the conversation that we had just had in my head. Sad, she said, and yet her entire intonation and attitude screamed that she was lying, that there was some alternate ploy behind her words that she was poorly trying to put in place. Convinced that I was going to get myself beaten up yet unable to stop myself for the possibility of her wanting to get laid by me, I left. Most of my friends drove. Those who didn't took the bus or walked. In order for me to get to her place in the half-hour mentioned, I had to ride my bicycle. I got on my bike, which to me at the time seemed very childish and immature, and rode. When I finally got close enough to her house I saw that her boyfriend was indeed there, though not with a bunch of his friends and not really looking like he was waiting to get into a fight. Regardless, I sneaked up a little closer to listen to what he was saying. Better safe than sorry, right? He was standing outside the door, talking just bellow a yell. What I heard was this: "You fucking whore, just pay me for what you drank tonight! I'm going to knock down this fucking door, knock in your teeth and take it if you don't RIGHT THIS FUCKING MINUTE!" I couldn't quite make out her reply, but I have this thing where I'm old fashioned when it comes to threatening violence against a woman. Don't do it. Especially when you don't know I'm nearby with a 70 pound hunk of metal (my father hadn't bought me a mountain bike since they were made of what must have been cast iron and lead) that I can use to bludgeon you with. Man, did he not see it coming. I picked up the bike holding the front wheel steady with the rest of the body, walked calmly up behind the drunken idiot and brained him, bringing the rear tire down on the back of his head. He was breathing so he wasn't dead, and he probably would have a concussion from it so he sure as hell wasn't getting up any time soon. I could hear Tabitha sobbing behind the door, so I knocked lightly. "Tab? It's Ethan. Uh...I think we should call your boyfriend a cab...he's, done for the night," I said to the thick panelled wood that the guy at my feet wouldn't have come close to being able to break open. I was starting to shake. The effects of the adrenaline were running off and the effects of the norepinephrine (the hormone in adrenaline that forces the "flight" part of the "fight or flight" reflex) kicking in. While I was looking down at the body I didn't notice Tabitha had opened the door just a crack. "Is he dead?" she asked making me jump like a twitchy chinchilla getting electro-shock therapy. Her hair was tousled a bit and her eyes red-rimmed, but my god was she gorgeous! "Ah...I hope not. He's breathing. Let's call him a cab and get him out of here," I replied then went for his wallet, taking his last forty bucks. I followed Tabitha inside and waited as she called for the taxi. When she finished we both went outside and waited for about five minutes in total, awkward silence. When the cab finally did get there I put him inside with some mumbled words about having too much to drink to the cabby and thrust the forty bucks at him. "Take him as far as half of that will get you toward the north end of town, the rest is yours. Just lay him down near some bushes when you get there, so he'll sleep it off," I told him. The great thing about cabbies is that they have such awful jobs already that they'll do almost anything just shy of murder for twenty dollars. Some of them won't be so shy. This cabby just nodded and smiled, then sped away, the inertia being the only force to close the back door. Tabitha laughed. That was a good sign. She wasn't too freaked out about what happened. "He lives in the East End. He won't have any clue where he is when he wakes up," she said with a devious gleam in her eye. I couldn't help but snicker a bit at that myself as I casually glanced down at her breasts, thinking for some odd reason that she wouldn't notice. She wasn't wearing a bra. That got my heart pumping. "Let's go inside." However drunk she may have been earlier in the night (she sounded quite smashed when she had called me) she had definitely sobered up some within the forty-five minutes since the phone call. Her speech was no longer slurred and although she walked with a slight drunken gait, she could have passed it off as just wanting to show off her assets. It didn't matter to me, I was still curious as to why I was there in the first place. We got inside again and, looking around for a second, I found that the place looked like the owners were comfortable in a financial sense. The brown leather couch and matching chairs set against the stone and wood panelling in the den area sat on top of an impeccably well done afghan rug. The flat panel plasma TV (a fifteen thousand dollar commodity at the time) sat above the fireplace. On top of the frosted glass coffee table I took note of the peach schnapps that 26 ounce bottle that was about one quarter of the way through and the 20 ounces of whiskey left in the 40 ounce bottle near to it. Having several alcoholics as "friends" this picture was starting to put itself together in my mind. "Why are people so mean when they drink that stuff?" Tabitha asked me in a hurt voice. She gestured emphatically at the half-empty liquor bottle. "Whiskey just does that to some people. It can actually get really bad. I have an uncle that was sent to jail for it," I replied. Making conversation seemed like a good idea. I don't know why, but it just did. I moved further into the den, near one of the matching leather chairs. "That sucks. All I was hoping for was a fun weekend where we could fuck around and...well...have some fun. Instead he turns into the prick from hell when he finds out I started my period a few days early," Tabitha said. She said it all without a hint of embarrassment, though her cheeks did look the tiniest bit red. I chalked it all up to the schnapps. World Issues Project "What an idiot!" I stated with a shake of my head. The act of shaking my head however, caused my knees to unhinge (the adrenaline was kicking out at that time) and I sat down sideways overtop of the chair I was standing near. "I just...ah...need to sit for a minute," I said. "I'm a bit shaky." She nodded at me then turned, walking toward me and asked, "Why?" "Because I'm not much of a guy for fighting, really," I replied, a bit red-faced. "No, I mean why is he an idiot? Who wants to do anything to a girl starting her period? Don't you find that kind of gross?" she asked in that, trying to be sly yet not so sly sort of way she managed so poorly. "Oh. Hmm...it's just blood," I replied. "I'm sure he gets more blood on him in a hockey game than you'll put out in one night. Besides, if you wanted to do something, he should leap at the chance. I would," I finished before I could stop myself. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, You're smooth. She looked at me with eyes that said Bullshit. I looked back with eyebrows raised and eyes that said Try me...please, try me! "No way, you're lying through your teeth," she countered. I quickly saw where this was headed. "I'd stick anything you'd let me into you, whether you're bleeding or just wet," I told her. I didn't want to be too vulgar in case it turned her off or scared her. I didn't need to worry about it. "Ok then, here," she said and suddenly pulled down her jeans and underwear, turned around and bent over in front of me, bracing herself on the coffee table. "Finger-fuck my pussy." I didn't know what to say at this point so I just went to work. I stuck my one finger in my mouth to get some moisture on it then reached out and ran it up her pussy from clit to perineum. I slowly inserted my one finger, feeling her from the inside. This was about the third girl I'd ever fingered and, turning my one finger over I found a small area that felt a little bit different than the rest, so I pushed a little and rubbed it. Her response was incredible! "OH GOD! FUCK yes...unnhh...fuck me," she yelped. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I found the G-spot. I pulled out a little and noticed a strange thing—no blood. Oh well, that wasn't concerning me for the moment. However, this little girl cumming all over my hand was definitely something I wanted to see. I sunk my finger back into her with a satisfying slurp and went back to work on her pussy, while she reached down and started to stroke her clit from side to side. "Fuck my cunt, PLEASE.... I...I'm gonna cum soon. Touch my asshole! I'm gonna cuuummm!" she yelled. I'm an ass man, by and by, and there was no way I would ever have not complied with her begging. She was slowly backing herself up very close to me, so I didn't have to reach far. Once again, I stuck my finger in my mouth then reached over and touched her bum hole sliding the digit back and forth, over and around her anal passage, pushing lightly at the hole almost like I was about to slide it in, but holding back. She however, was not holding anything back. She was moving her pussy all around (making the job a bit more difficult but oh so much sweeter, because it lasted that little bit longer). Once or twice just as I pushed lightly on anus, she threw herself back and I went in just passed the first knuckle. Oh man! I'm in the heaven above heaven! I thought. (Message to all ladies out there: That's pretty much the big thought running through any guys head who's doing anything like this with you.) Tabitha came really abruptly with an "Oh GAWWWWDDD!" Her cunt pulsated around my fingers, and her asshole spasms forced my finger into her butt up to the second knuckle this time. I just wiggled it around in there because it felt good to be this bad. She loved every second of it. And then, just as abruptly as she came, she stopped and slowly pulled herself off my fingers. She now had that, freshly fucked look about her that is so beautiful on any woman at any time. "That was super," she said as she turned around and then suddenly fell into my lap, jeans still around her ankles. She squirmed and turned herself over a little bit and smiled at me. "I've never cum like that, my thighs are dripping." I reached down to her ass, casually passing my fingers just over both her now fingered holes and felt her wetness. She was right, her thighs were soaked and my God, was it ever wonderful! "I owe you," she said as she went for my pants. Her hands dextrously opened my zipper and my button in one very fluid motion and then into my underwear they went. I lifted myself up just a little so she could slide my pants down enough to get my dick out of the now very confining place of my underwear. Her mouth went directly to my cock once it was out in the open. The warmth of it was the most incredible sensation I can ever remember feeling on me. Then the wetness of her mouth and the slurping of the sounds took all other thoughts from my mind and left me in a very nice state of bliss. Suddenly, (within roughly five seconds of her going down on me) I realised something: I had NEVER been gotten off by another person before, and as this was the first time, it was going to be very, very quick. I was about to voice this concern when I felt her left hand reach under (her right was steadily pumping my dick into her perfectly parted mouth) and feel my balls tightening up. She pulled her mouth off of me just long enough to say, "Getting ready to give me a load of cum to swallow?" Then she went right back to it, slurping and gurgling happily up and down my shaft, with her tongue playing neat, yet purposeful little circles around my cockhead. Her head bobbed fiercely and she began to pull her mouth completely off of my dick and slam it back down as far as she could with her hand there. I began to tense up and she must have sensed it because suddenly she was on me like a vacuum. And, like an explosion waiting to happen, I came in her mouth. The orgasm was incredible! (Then again, have you ever had one that wasn't?) The moans she was making as her mouth was still around my cock, swallowing the load I had given her, made it all the sweeter. When she lifted her head she looked at me, the little smile on her face telling me she was happy, the impishness of it telling me that she still wanted more. She moved upward and sat on my hips, over top of my softened cock and balls. The wetness and warmth that emanated from her spread pussy coated my lower region, heightening my entire sensation and stopping my groin from going totally limp. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest and smell my cum on her breath as she leaned in close. "Are you a vegetarian?" she asked me. I blinked at her once and replied, "Uh...no. Why do you ask?" Her answer was simple, she leaned close and kissed me, opening my lips with her own and intermingling our tongues together. I just sat there, stunned (of course), and played with her tongue. I noticed however, that the taste was of slightly peachy, roasted nuts. Almonds? Walnuts, perhaps? She pulled back slightly and said, "That's why. Your cum tasted slightly like nuts. Apparently that's the sign of a vegetarian." "Oh," I said with a smile. "Nope, I'm pretty carnivorous. I just love flesh." She laughed lightly, and put her head down on my shoulder. Time for the question of the hour, I thought. Hope it doesn't stop the mood of things. "Tab," I began using the name that all her friends called her at school, "I've been wondering, why did you call me over here? You aren't on your period from what I can see, and I don't think I'm just a tool to scratch an itch." She looked at me, kissed me again and told me her story. "The other day in the stairwell, I saw you and you saw me and I felt...something. You did too," she said in a bit of a defensive tone, though as I nodded the guarded look left her eyes. "Then in class when we got together I knew I was attracted to you, but I was also loved how you looked at me. I don't think I was just a piece of meat to you, I was a whole person that you wanted to get together with," she said with a happy tone. "I had a boyfriend though, and wanted to be faithful. I guess I was blind to his assholiness. He came over and got really drunk really fast. As soon as he has his first sip of alcohol he's as soft as a limp noodle for the rest of the night," she continued with a laugh. It was good to see her like that. Her laughlines made me smile. "I mentioned that I had cramps when I saw him getting pretty ripped and he started freaking out. Calling me a bitch because I 'shoudda tode him afore he wasted his good cash to get me drunk' and 'I'm not gonna fuck a chick on her rag'," she said imitating him in her best dumb-drunk-guy type voice. "So, when he went to the washroom I called you. I wanted to see you," she said simply. "I don't even remember what I told you to get you over here, but I do remember laughing as I heard him coming back from the washroom and falling down the single stair in the hallway. Then he told me he was getting the hell out of here. I watched him leave then locked him out before he could come back for his alcohol. He sat there pounding on the door threatening me the whole time. After a while, you got here, brained him pretty good, and the rest you know," she finished with a sigh. "It's really good to see you too," I told her whilst rubbing her back up and down. "My god, you're the most gorgeous creature I've laid eyes on. Let's get these clothes off of you," I finished and began to lift her shirt. She sat up straight and just lifted her arms in response. I quickly pulled off her top and pulled her back toward me in a hug. I also realised at this point that I was re-hardening quite nicely, as I could feel my cock poking upward toward her beautiful, womanly warmth. Her reaction both stunned and thrilled me; she reached behind her and grasped my dick, then stuffed it into her opening, lowering herself onto me as deep as she could get. "Mmmm...I love the feeling of you inside my pussy. Nothing feels better than getting fucked," she said throatily. Her eyes still held that 'not quite satisfied' look. I thrust upward with the little bit of room I had to answer her, forcing a little delighted squeal from her. I then reached around behind her and reached for her asshole with my right hand and her upper back with my left and brought her down to my mouth for another kiss. We tongue wrestled as I rubbed her anus for about five minutes. She was moaning into my mouth the entire time, absolutely loving the sensations being brought through her cunt and butthole. She pulled her mouth off mine and said, "I need to get fucked HARD. Let's throw some cushions onto the floor and then you can really pound my pussy." So, with that she lifted herself off my cock and we both stood up. Quickly we threw all the couch cushions onto the floor and she lay down on her stomach with her ass tilted slightly up and the cheeks spread wide open, providing me with perfect access to both her beautiful holes. The dark brown pubic hair was completely soaked and plastered to her legs, while the hair around her asshole was stuck to her bum in a star shaped pattern...I don't know why I noticed these funny little things like this, but(t) I did. Pun intended. "What are you waiting for? Stick your cock in me!" Tabitha pleaded. So, I obliged. I got down over top of her, like I was about to do a push up and pushed into her. My dick slipped in without any hesitation. The warmth was like stepping into a hot spring after walking through snow. I've never felt any sensation like the inside of a woman's cunt wrapped around my cock. I thrust in deeper as she let out a loud moan. I couldn't stop myself from moaning as well. I pulled back a bit, then thrust into her with most of my strength. She let out a little *oof* and said, "Oh god, do that again!" so I did. I thrust into her as deeply and as hard as I could, feeling her wetness almost splash back at me. I continued to slam into her for a little bit, before realising that I wasn't give her asshole any attention. I reached down and found her puckered little hole and lightly pushed on it. To my surprise, it opened up a little bit this time. So, amid her screams of "Fuck me!" and in mid-thrust, I pushed my middle finger up her ass to the hilt. Like her pussy around my cock, I was met with no resistance at all. This girl was definitely no stranger to anal play. "Ahh...yeah. Finger my asshole and fuck my wet little cunt! Do you like my asshole? I play with it all the time," she said. I loved how she talked dirty. "Uhn...fuck..." was my less than witty reply. I was losing myself in the sensation of her pussy around my dick. The only thought I had beyond cumming inside of her was that this was the best feeling in the world. Every thrust was like putting myself into an incredible hot spring of pleasure. I even forgot to finger her ass for a while, just getting caught up in the feeling of her womanhood around my manhood. My orgasm began to build, and it was going to be big. I started slamming my dick into her pussy as hard as I could, and she was thrusting up with as much force as she could muster. My finger was rapidly and haphazardly moving in and out of her asshole, which I could feel really starting to tighten up. "I'm gonna cum.." I said, trying to find the air to speak. "OH GOD YES, PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME!!!" she screamed in reply. Her pussy was contracting around my cock and I couldn't hold out any longer. I began to cum. The first spurt lasted a whole second long. The next was the same, as was the third. I slowed my thrusts as she was gyrating her hips around my cock and I just kept cumming. I looked down and saw my juices leaking out of her and my only thought was to lean in and kiss her. I took her lips in mine and our tongues met somewhere in the middle. I kept my dick inside of her for a few minutes afterward, until it was completely limp, all the while just kissing her. I stayed there a while longer and we talked. Around 2:00 am she fell asleep in my arms and I put her to bed (I put her in the wrong room I later found out, but I guess you can't get lucky all the time). I then got on my bike and went home. I walked in the front door around 3:00am and saw my father, bleary eyed and angry looking waiting for me in the living room. "Where the fuck were you? Do ya know what fuckin' time it is?!?" he bellowed. I looked at him dismissively and began to walk up to my room. "Hey I'm talking to you, you little fu—" he began to say as I changed my stride and began walking toward him. No longer a boy, I wouldn't put up with this anymore. I shoved him hard and he fell back on the couch. "Get to bed. You're drunk and you look like pissed yourself," I told him. I had to pity him. His life was his own doing, but he didn't want it this way. He just didn't know how to change it. "Aww, fuck off..." he mumbled and walked passed me. He saw the change in me. He didn't know what it was, but he saw it. And that change seemed to both frighten and make him proud of me, though I don't think he'd ever show it. The next day Tabitha phoned me to ask if it was a dream or not. Thankfully, she was just as happy as me that it was real, and she invited me over again for some fun. We ended up dating, and oddly I was accepted in her clique and she in mine for the most part. There was still the odd person who didn't like one of us, but it was a small minority. Her ex was a pain in my ass for a while though, but that's a different story for a different time. Our relationship lasted until second year university where it just sort of seemed to drift apart. I think of her often though, and can only wonder if she does the same. Life goes on though, and I guess we can only hope for more good times ahead, and leave the rest behind. * * * * * Comments are definitely welcome.