My New Girlfriend
Chapter Three
When Courtney and I first started dating, I didn’t really give much thought to the long-term. A girl that hot? That aggressive? I was sure it was just going to be a crazy hookup that nobody would ever believe happened. Heck, it took me a while to believe it myself. Now, after almost three months, it was time to acknowledge that we were in a real relationship. A bizarre, unorthodox relationship, but one my family insisted on witnessing firsthand over Thanksgiving nonetheless.
“And remember, what aren’t we going to do?” I asked her for probably the fifth time during the drive over.
“Fuck, suck, strip, jiggle, dirty-talk, make out or discuss any of the above,” she recited from memory.
“Good. And what are we going to do?”
“Pretend we’re a normal couple. Hold hands. Smile flirtatiously. Verbally tease each other.”
“That’s right.” I’d belatedly had to add verbally as a qualifier, for fear that we’d be in the middle of having stuffing and I’d suddenly find her foot rubbing between my thighs under the table.
Courtney wasn’t the first girl I’d ever brought over to meet the family on a holiday, yet I found I was far more nervous than I’d ever been. It made no sense really. She was immensely more attractive than those other girls, and while most of them had dreaded the visit, Courtney was elated by the opportunity. She’d gone on and on about how excited she was to get to know me better by seeing where I’d come from. It was sweet, really, and not in the affectionately-sweet way that was her norm.
Still, those other girls had had careers, and education, and interests. They all had things to talk about and experiences to share and witty and amusing anecdotes. (Well, most of them had.) In short, those other woman had priorities in their life other than my happiness.
I drove by the house three times before I parked.
My family is a small one, thankfully. We walked in and were immediately met by my mom, my brother Mike, his wife Dana and their three kids, which was the whole kit and caboodle. Introductions took less than a minute. My mother, ever one to believe her boys were perfect little men who deserved the world, didn’t even seem to question Courtney’s presence.
Mike, on the other hand… My big brother had grown up with a lot of that fake bad-boy cred that good-looking suburban kids learn to fake from watching a lot of TV. He’d had girls lining up to hook up with him back then, and the fact that girls were lining up only seemed to make more want to get in line. He’d cleaned up his act eventually and married Dana, but just standing in the entryway of my childhood home brought back echoes of the rocking of bedposts from Mike’s room.
If Dana knew half of what I knew about what had gone on up there, she’d never let her kids in their dad’s old room. But tonight, I got to be the one bringing in sexy new face.
With introductions made, Courtney and I settled into the living room and talked with my brother and his wife while my mom went to work on dinner. (She’d never allowed us to help as kids, and time hadn’t disabused her of the mistrust of our culinary competence.)
They asked the standard questions, like how we met (“we used to ride the same bus, and one day we sat together and it just clicked!”), what she did (“I used to work for a local college and some magazines, but right now I’m between jobs”), who her team was (“the Patriots, duh”), and just like that, she was in.
We watched the game, caught up on current events, ate too much for comfort but not enough to sate Mom’s ego, tried and failed to get the kids to talk to us rather than their screens. I couldn’t help but smile at my nephew’s disinterest in my girlfriend. Being in this house took me back to my own childhood self, but I couldn’t remember a time when a woman like this wouldn’t have turned my head.
Things actually went so smoothly that we wound up staying later than intended. Mike and Dana kissed Mom goodbye and hefted their sleeping kids out to their rental car and left for their hotel. He lived in the Midwest now, so they’d flown in and there just wasn’t room for the four of them to stay here comfortably.
We walked them out to the car, and my big brother shook my hand before he got in and gave me a respectful nod. A little heavy-handed, but it still felt pretty good. I guess we never really stop wanting our cool big brother’s approval.
As their car pulled away, my mother turned to us. “What about you two? Why don’t you two stay the night?”
I wanted to tell her no, feeling awkward standing there in front of these two women—one who had put a bar of soap in my mouth for calling another neighborhood kid an asshole, and one who just last night had begged to be allowed to personally bathe me. (Soap was now wholly redeemed.)
Still, it was a four-hour drive back home and it was already almost 11:00. We’d been drinking to boot. Besides, I knew my mom was lonely sometimes, and it’d do her some good to wake up and have family around.
“You know, I think we’ll take you up on that, Mom, thanks.”
“Wonderful. Courtney, I’ll show you to Mikey’s room. I just put fresh sheets on the bed this morning, just in case.” I laughed in spite of myself; it had been so long since I’d considered notions like modesty or chastity, or of not nutting in Courtney’s eager mouth whenever I felt like it.
“Say, do you think I could I stay in Drew’s room? If it’s OK with you.” My mother paused abruptly on the stairs. I tried not to groan—how could I have been more clear about expectations?
Then Courtney went on a breath later. “And then you could stay in your brother’s room, right sweetie? C’mon, I just want to see where you grew up, see what I missed out on.” In an instant, my mother was pacified, and I quickly agreed. She squeezed my hand, and then we parted ways as my mom lead her to my old room and I shuffled off to Mike’s. I listened as she and my mom wished one another a good night. The door to my room closed, and then there was the sound of my mom’s slippered feet receding as she made her way back downstairs to her own room.
Soon after I stripped down to my undershirt and boxers, settling into my brother’s old bed, I realized that it had been almost three weeks since I’d had gone a day without Courtney getting me off.
Why was that suddenly making me so grouchy? I’d gone more than three decades without it just fine; what was one night? So what if I was lying here in my brother’s bed, the very same one I know he’d nailed more girls in than he or I could remember. Some of them had been girls I’d known, had an eye for. Now that I finally had my own hot willing babe, here I was all by myself and wondering what things must be like in the other bedroom.
It wasn’t fair, damnit. I lie there, staring at my brother’s ceiling like it had wronged me somehow. Then the door opened, and a silhouette darkened the doorway as someone let themselves in and flipped on the light. It was Courtney—or rather, a version of Courtney.
My girlfriend was wearing makeup, but not the same as she’d put on before we left this morning. She had on way too much of it, in fact. Heavy eye shadow, thick red lipstick, loads of blush and eyeliner. She’d drawn up her hair in a casual pony tail and was dressed in an outfit she definitely hadn’t worn here. Tight blue jeans, white sneakers decorated with a garish assortment of marker colors. A t-shirt that read “Jackson High Vball.”
Holy shit. From the shoes to the makeup to the pony tail to her youthful beauty to the shirt from my old school… she was the spitting image of every girl I’d ever dreamed about hooking up with when I’d last been a resident at this address.
“Courtney…” I breathed in awe.
“Um, ya. What, are you Mike’s little bro or something?” she asked, chewing her gum loudly. She looked and sounded annoyed at finding me here instead of Mike. “How do you even know my name?”
“How do I…?” What did she mean, how did I know her name? I’d drove her over here for crying out loud.
Then I got it. Or I thought I did. I took a guess.
“Oh. Yeah, we were in the same study hall last semester.”
“Ah, K.” Courtney didn’t break character at all, but the fact that she played along told me I’d guessed right. She looked around, as if hoping Mike might be hiding under the bed or behind his Guns n’ Roses poster or something. “So like, I guess he’s not in?”
“Uh, nope.” Geez, being back in this house, in front of this girl… it was turning me back into the geeky teen I vaguely remembered being. My voice almost broke, I was so nervous. No joke.
She sighed irritably. “Any idea when… Hey. Twerp. Eyes’re up here.” She drew my eyes from her chest, distending the text on her t-shirt, to her face. “So yeah, K, any idea when he’s gonna be back?”
I took a moment to think this time. “Shouldn’t be long, I don’t think. You’re welcome to come wait if you want.”
She pursed her lips, considering, then came in and shut the door behind her. Smart girl, keeping the noise inside the room. She pulled his desk chair out and spun it around, sitting in it backwards. That lucky chair. “Eh, why not, I can wait a few. Hey, you know? I think I remember you. Andy, right?”
I frowned. “Drew.” I was born Andrew, and I’d always hated being called Andy. It drove me crazy. Which Courtney well knew. Her character, however, was too cool to remember such trivialities about some random guy in her study hall.
Weirdly, I felt flattered she remembered my name at all. This was surreal.
“Yeah, whatever. So like, what’re you doing in your brother’s room?”
You tell me, I wanted to say. But guys like me didn’t take that attitude with girls like her. “Oh, I was just looking for this book I loaned him that he never got around to reading.”
“Yeah, Mike’s not really the literary type,” she said, and just perfectly in a way that simultaneous derided him for being dumber than her, while adoring him for being just a body. “What was the book?”
I scanned our collective bookshelf, which I’d let him put in his room so he could try to impress hot nerd girls when he brought them over to “study.” “Slaughterhouse V,” I said. “You ever read it?”
She shook her head. “Sounds gross. What’s it about?”
“Nah, not really. It’s about this guy, Billy Pilgrim, who was at the firebombing of Dresden and kind of loses it and becomes unstuck in time.”
She laughed. “Unstuck in time? What does that even mean?”
“He just kind of skips around—one day he’ll be a kid again, then he’ll be an old man in a loveless marriage.” I laughed as memories trickled back in. This really had been one of my favorite books, back in the day. “Yeah, and sometimes he’d wake up as a human exhibit in the zoo of the alien Tralfamadorians.”
“Tramafama-what now?” she asked, scooting her chair closer. Holy crap, she was even wearing too much perfume. The girl had out-done herself.
“Tralfamadorians,” I repeated. “Anyway, it’s all about how screwed up and crazy life can be, and how little we can do about any of it. I think it is, anyway.”
“It sounds cool,” Courtney said, and then she joined me on the bed, folding one leg underneath herself but still keeping a little distance. “Life can definitely be pretty screwed up sometimes.”
“Oh? Some experience with that?” I prompted. She was doing such an amazing job with her character, I wanted to see what else she could do with it if I made her improvise.
“Ya. I mean OK, like, take your brother. He asks me out last week, and I’m like no way because I know Mike’s rep and all, right? But he swears he’ll be a gentleman, promises not to even try to sleep with me, so I’m like sure, fine. Just to prove he’s obviously going to try something, right?”
“That does sound like him,” I agreed. I suppose a girl like Courtney would have had run-ins of her own with guys like my brother. Of course, I’d heard more than a couple tales from Mike about girls who’d gone out with him just for that reason, to prove he was a swine, and he’d gotten his prize as often as not.
“Ya. Only then he doesn’t. Doesn’t even touch me except to brush a little crumb off my cheek.” She smiled, and I could see her picturing the cute boy’s hand, how it had felt, how tender and simple it had been. “Then he doesn’t even call me! So my girlfriends are all telling me it’s some stupid game and don’t fall for it, but like, I can take care of myself, right?”
“Oh absolutely,” I said. Or maybe it wasn’t me saying it, but the teenage version of me, the one who’d agree with anything this vision said just to be able to keep talking to her.
“So like, I figured I’d just swing by while I was in the neighborhood. Say hi, keep lines of communication open. Then I saw the car on the street out front, figured he must have somebody over, so I thought I’d catch him in the act. Only now he’s not here.” She gave me a hard look. “You’re not covering for your bro, are you Andy?”
“It’s Drew,” I corrected her, but gently this time. “And no, I’m not covering. That’s actually my car out there.” Which was true, albeit out of character. I’d gotten my first car when I was in my mid-20’s and was paying it off into my 30’s.
She sat up, plainly impressed, and I was glad I’d taken credit for it. “You have a car?” I nodded. “That’s cool.” Courtney scooted a little closer.
“Yeah,” I said, cheeks flushing at the praise of this angel.
“You know, you kinda look like Mike? But not all… Dawson’s Creek like him. You’re original. You’re… real.” She reached out and stroked her fingers—which I now saw she’d painted bright pink and decorated with smiley faces—through my hair.
I grinned like an idiot, completely lost in the fantasy she was creating. “You’re pretty real yourself.” (What the hell did that even mean?)
She kept tousling my hair as she spoke. At this range, her perfume was heady, so intense I couldn’t think of anything but her, and now. “So tell me. In this book of yours, you said they keep little Billy in a zoo?”
“Yeah.”
“So they like… watch him, and stuff?”
I swallowed. “Um, yeah, I guess so.”
“But what if he needed his privacy? What if he had to do something…” she trailed off, tilting her head to the side as she appraised me. “…dirty.”
“Not even then. I guess he just learned to, you know, do what he needed to do.”
She smiled. “I think I like this guy Billy. I’m kind of the same way.”
And she kissed me. The way she’d taken me back, I’d almost forgotten how to kiss, forgotten that I’d kissed her a thousand times. I switched off that part of my mind and committed myself to this fantasy.
She leaned me back on Mike’s bed and followed me down, her trim body laying down on top of me. In some other life, there was a Courtney who dressed slutty for me and stripped on my command and pleasured me however and whenever I wanted and obeyed me unhesitatingly and lived and breathed my happiness.
Here, in this room, there was only this girl I was too afraid of to touch without her blessing. Courtney giggled as she had to physically grasp my hand on her waist and slide it down to her butt, then nodded to me as I squeezed to promise it was OK. I tried to feel her underwear through her jeans; I was pretty sure I could detect a panty-line somewhere, but I was too distracted by her tongue slipping into my mouth to be sure.
At some point Courtney pulled away, sitting upright and straddling me. Only our clothes were keeping our genitals apart, a fact I’m sure she knew as she gave a playful little wiggle of the hips. She smiled at me, and I could see she was smiling at being looked at with all the wonder a girl like her inspired in me. My awe made her feel the power of her beauty.
Then she was untucking her t-shirt from her jeans, and goodbye Jackson High.
“Sorry about the sports bra,” she said with a little smirk. As if I would complain at her removing a layer of clothing. Her nipples were two little outcroppings in the pale blue spandex. “I came over straight from our game tonight.” As she tossed the shirt to the floor, I saw it even had her last name written across the back.
“Did… did you win?”
She planted a hand on either side of my head, leaning back in for another long kiss. “Yeah. They put up a hell of a fight though.”
The notion of fighting her was insane. I’d give her anything. I’d never been more turned on in my life, not even when I’d actually had that raging teenage libido.
“C-can I… see them?” No segue, no prelude. Just a horny geek dying to see this hottie’s boobs.
She laughed at my anxious request, and for a moment I thought it might be a laugh of disdain. But then she kissed me again. “Sure you can, Billy Pilgrim.”
As she took off that sports bra and let those incredible, perky tits of hers into the free air, it lit a fire in me that seared away my nervousness and left only the raw desire. I grasped one of Courtney’s slender wrists and swept it aside. Her chest sunk down into my face before she could adjust her balance. A weighty breast smashed into my face as I darted to intercept her cherry red nipples with my mouth, then as her body followed it down, it flattened out so her breast covered my mouth, my nose, even my eyes.
I didn’t care. I’d gladly suffocate on these tits. From the way she gasped and started grinding her crotch into me, she seemed to be only too happy to suffocate me.
There was no more permission then. I was too needful a thing to wait on words—as one hand sunk into the doughy flesh of her spare breast, the other slid down her back and right into her pants. When I found I’d wound up outside the panties, I back up and repeated, this time going all the way down to grope her bare ass.
There was only so much of this the two of us lust-addled teenagers could take, and soon we were each fumbling at belts and zippers and boxers and panties as quickly as we could get them off. Since I’d already been in bed I beat her soundly, and tackled her back down to the bed to resume making out as she blindly undid the rest.
“Holy shit… you’re… you’re…” Her eyes opened wide as she took in the sight of my cock for the first time, seemingly.
“I’m what?” I asked self-consciously.
“That’s the biggest fucking cock I’ve ever seen. Can I… can I taste you?” She licked her lips, the question addressed directly to my cock.
“Do it. Suck me, beautiful.” I winced as the words from that dorky teen comedy I’d seen my senior year of high school came out of my mouth unbidden.
Courtney arched a sculpted eyebrow at me, but bless her heart, I could see she got the reference. “Easy there, Stiffler.” The real Courtney would never chide me, or tell me to calm down. Here, though, she held the lion’s share of the power and she was obviously a girl who only put up with so much geeky machismo from Mike’s kid brother.
She even changed her technique—tonight she wasn’t her usual cum-thirsty cock-worshipping self. Instead, she was curious. Experimental. Clumsy even, at times, though only infrequently. It was a merging of the blowjob I’d dreamed of getting every time I heard those slurping noises through the shared wall, and the reality of a real girl who didn’t suck dick like it was her preferred form of recreation.
Moreover, it gave me time to sit back and appreciate my surroundings. Here I was, in my brother’s bed with a big-titted round-assed blonde volleyball player. She’d come to see him, but a few minutes with me and she’d forgotten all about him. It was my cock she craved now. My dick getting sucked. My mouth on her tits. Me making her so wet I could just barely detect it through the perfume.
Most of the time when Courtney and I screwed around, I felt somewhere between conquering hero and god atop Olympus. Today, however, she gave me something entirely new. Today, I felt like the stud of the house—fleeting though it was, it was a moment no one could take away.
“On your back, Courtney,” I said as firmly as I could. I was still in my teen mindset, but her eager blowjob had raised my confidence. She pulled back and gave me a wry smile as if to ask who this brash fellow was, and what had he done with little Andy.
My cock, painfully erect, was throbbing right at the entrance to her pussy. Courtney had been growing out her pubic hair from shaved to a neatly trimmed thicket over the past month or so; right now, it completed the image of the half-innocent volleyball player from Jackson High who wanted to look cute like she’d read in Seventeen, but didn’t want to over-do it with pigtails and schoolgirl outfits. She looked exactly right for her part.
I realized, then, that she’d been planning this experience all month. None of this was coincidence.
As I made ready to penetrate her delicate folds, Courtney caught my cock in one soft hand and stopped it before it could dive in to where it so desperately wanted to be. “Wait wait wait,” she said, struggling to catch her breath between kisses, “do you have a condom?”
It didn’t even occur to me in that moment that my Courtney, the real Courtney, was on the pill. “Oh shit. Shit shit shit—hang on, Mike’s got to have one around here somewhere.”
Honest to god, the guy hadn’t lived in this room in going on two decades and here I was rummaging through his night stand for some ancient condom. Needless to say, I didn’t find one. “Fuck!” I said, pounding the bed in frustration, even as Courtney, busty teen athlete, kept softly stroking my cock.
“No,” she whimpered, looking almost on the verge of tears. “I want you so fucking bad right now I can taste it. But my folks, they’d kill me if I got knocked up. Shit!” Her big eyes watering, she looked down at where her hand was still slowly jacking me off.
“Do you think you could pull out in time?”
No. No, I want to dive into you all the way and stay there until my balls are drained of every last fucking drop and I can never get it up again, I thought.
“I can do it,” I said.
She sighed in relief at my assurance and released her hold on me. Her legs spread back open. Moments later I was losing my virginity—or, well, you know what I mean—with my brother’s date in my brother’s bed. And she was already groaning in delirious happiness.
“Do it, Drew. Fuck me. Fuck me, Drew. Harder. Fucking fuck me harder. Fuck me like you’ll never get to do it again. Fuck me until my brains dribble out my pussy. Fuck me. Fucking fuck me!”
I complied like it was a literal command, trusting that she was obviously more experienced than me and so this must be what sex was like. I stared mesmerized at her wildly bouncing boobs, the little faces she made that almost seemed like she was in pain but for the little smile that came and went periodically. Before long she was making a little wailing noise each time I bottomed out in her pussy; it grew louder with every thrust, as did her demands. “Harder! Deeper! Faster! Fuck me! FUCK ME!”
“My mom’s downstairs,” I cautioned her self-consciously.
“Sorry,” she panted, “just… don’t stop. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop. Fucking fuck my pussy!”
And so on. So it went.
I did my best to keep her quiet, shushing occasionally and slowing when she got too loud, but she never did silence herself all the way. She really did need it too bad.
Thanks to her, so did I—and without even meaning to, I forgot all about pulling out. Pull out? Of this gorgeous girl’s perfect pussy? It was unthinkable.
Heeding my own admonitions about noise, I opened my mouth to bellow as I came in the depths of her but no sound came out. It triggered an orgasm of her own, and she thoughtfully clutched my brother’s pillow to her mouth to at least attempt to muffle her shrieks.
I rolled off of her, for a moment puzzled that she didn’t follow me and drape her body over mine, like she always did—but even now, she was still in character. “Wow. You… you really came inside me, didn’t you.”
“Uh huh. I’m sorry. You were just so… I couldn’t…”
She smiled at me. “It’s OK. I’m… actually kind of glad you did.”
She was quiet for a moment as we each caught our breath, and then she rolled over to dangle her feet off the bed and began gathering her clothes.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
She blushed a little—how could she control it so perfectly?—and nodded over her shoulder. “Yeah. I mean, before Mike comes back from wherever, right?”
“Sure.” I watched her get dressed, and even in that she was a teenage girl hastily and awkwardly tugging her panties on in front of a hungry male gaze, self-conscious as hell. Soon she was fully dressed again, but she sat down beside me and gave me another long kiss.
“That was awesome. Could we do it again sometime?” I asked, then winced at my own words. Time to try that again. “I mean… that was great. You’re great. I really want to see you again.”
She smiled at my second take, the praise taking some of the edge off of her embarrassment at how swept up she’d just let herself become. She took a moment and jotted down a phone number inside the front cover of Slaughterhouse V. “If my dad answers, tell him we’re in a study group together. He’s super lame when boys call.”
I nodded, grasping the book like it was solid gold. “Will do.”
She smiled, and kissed me one more time. It was a sweet kiss. Affectionate and vulnerable. “You’re going to call right?”
“I’d have called already if you weren’t still here.”
She smiled, then leaned down and kissed me, but this time on the cheek. Before she pulled away, she whispered softly in my ear—a smoky, throaty whisper that had me hard again before my brain processed the words.
“To make sure you have something to be thankful for this year.”
Then she hopped up and was out the door, pausing only to give me a radiant schoolgirl smile in the doorway.
There was no doubt about it. I was in love.