The season wore on as the days grew hotter. We got into the pace of one practice to one game, which, it turned out, was a lot of games. The higher leagues had fewer official games than us, but they had scrimmage games too, which we didn’t bother with since our games didn’t count.
For a few of those game, Alyssa showed up to watch. When she did, she always made it a point to say hello to me. She cheered for me and seemed interested in me.
I even talked Mother into taking me to a couple of her games. I cheered a lot. She introduced me to her team and coach. She told them I was really good and might someday play “for real.”
That pleased me. I liked her so much. But I became shy around her, I always dropped my eyes and stammered. I couldn’t help it.
Mother watched me constantly.
During this time Leah didn’t get much better, but she got good enough that she wasn’t embarrassing. And the rest of the defenders figured out ways to help compensate for her.
Still, she was a huge weak link and we lost a lot of games.
Eventually, coach moved me up to midfield for a while. I did really good. Then, as we reached mid-season, she suggested I start practicing for striker.
I would be playing next to Sheila and Becky! I would be scoring points!
“Awesome!” Becky said.
“Cool,” Sheila added.
Leah gave me a shy smile. But behind it she seemed sad. Most practices, these days, she worked with Coach Abrams and one of the other defenders, just simple positions and basic blocks.
My first striker practice I went with Sheila and Becky. We got a couple of midfielders to play defense, and we took turns shooting against Lily.
After a few tries I got one into the goal!
“Great!” Becky said. Sheila acknowledged me with a nod.
After that Coach Brenda came over to work with us. It seemed she seen us and thought we were getting it too easy. She joined the defense.
She kicked the ball over to me. “Try now,” she said.
I dribbled toward her. She seemed poised to tackle, so I passed over to Becky, who charged a defender directly. The defender tackled the ball away and kicked it downfield.
We tried again. The defenders stopped us. Then again. Stopped again. On the next try, Becky brought in the ball. A defender cut her off so she passed to me. I got the pass and then tried to dribble past Brenda. She came hard, I kicked harder, trying to break through and get the shot.
My ankle hit her ankle and, even with our shinguards, we both went down hard.
“Fuck!” Brenda shouted. She was rolling and holding her leg. I also held my leg and grimaced in pain.
Becky got to me first. She leaned by me. “You okay?”
I groaned.
“Oh shit!” somebody shouted. I cleared the tears from my eyes and looked over. Sheila was leaning over Coach Brenda, who had her leg stretched out.
Her leg was crooked in a very horrible way. Near her ankle, there was a big, strange bulge.
“Fuuuuuck,” Becky said.
One of the defenders began to cry. Coach Abrams arrived to stop the panic.
Later an ambulance came to take Coach Brenda to the hospital. They wanted to take me also, but Mother arrived and insisted that she take me home. I could walk by then, and while there was a bruise coming, there was no serious swelling. Mother told Coach Abrams and the medics that she would take me to a doctor tomorrow.
Of course, she meant that she would take me to a doctor from the church.
I missed one practice and had to sit out the next game. No big. My leg was healing fine. It wasn’t even sprained, and I thought I could have played the game if Coach Abrams had let me. But she insisted I should wait.
So I sat on the bench as my teammates played their hearts out — on their way to a 6-3 loss.
Midway through the second half, Coach Abrams plopped down next to me and asked, “Megan, are you okay? I mean, in general?”
I shrugged. It was a Mother weekend and she watched form the stands. I didn’t want to seem too close to Coach Abrams.
However, it seemed a shrug was not enough of an answer. “Come on, Megan. Talk to me.”
“Okay. I feel really bad — I mean, about Coach Brenda.”
“Yeah. I thought so. But it’s okay, dear. Everybody knows it was an accident.”
Did they? Some of the girls had seemed weird around me, giving me strange looks.
I glanced at Coach Abrams, then back at the field. At that moment Sheila took a break-away shot on goal. It was close.
“Good try, Sheila!” Coach Abrams shouted. I clapped along with the crowd.
The other team’s goalie kicked the ball, which landed midfield. The teams ran to it and battled for control. Coach Abrams observed closely. Then she said, “Oh, by the way, we’re getting a replacement for Brenda on Tuesday.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I think you’ll like her.”
I glanced over. Coach Abrams was looking at me with a big smile.
“Who?” I asked.
“Oh, just Alyssa.”
I gulped and sat forward. Coach Abrams’ smile deepened. I said, “Really?”
“Yeah. In fact, she asked to help. I guess as soon as she heard about the accident, she called me and volunteered to join the team.” Lightly, she shoved my shoulder. “Wasn’t that nice of her?”
“Uh — yeah.”
“She seemed really excited, like she really, really wanted to help. I wonder why?”
I sat unmoving, tense, with wide eyes.
Suddenly, the fans got excited. When I turned to watch, the other team had got the ball and were tearing down the field with the ball. They took it right to Leah — of course.
I stood up. “Go Leah!”
This time she got it! A perfect tackle. The ball shot free and another defender got to it and cleared it downfield.
“Nice!” Coach Abrams said.
One of the other defenders ran up and patted Leah on the back. Her moms cheered a lot.
I sat back down.
“Megan,” Coach Abrams said in a quiet voice, “I can tell that you really like Alyssa. Right?”
She looked straight forward, watching the team.
I took a while to answer. But I told the truth.
“Yes.”
“Your mother — she would freak out a lot, wouldn’t she?”
“Yeah. A whole lot.”
Coach Abrams put her hand on my shoulder. This time she left it there.
“Megan, this is really hard for you, isn’t it?”
I was quiet for a while. I watched Becky get the ball and take it deep. Two defenders came at her, but they messed up. They left Sheila with no coverage. Fast Sheila, who could turn on a dime. She ran to where nobody would expect, wide open for the pass. And Becky, so perfectly matched with her friend, knew just where she would be.
The pass was flawless. Sheila drove it into the net.
We stood and cheered with the crowd. Becky ran to Sheila and they hugged.
When we sat back down, I answered Coach Abrams.
“Yeah. It’s really hard. I have to hide everything, all the time. I can’t have normal friends. I never get to sneak out or see anyone.”
“Oh, Megan.”
“I’ve never even been kissed.”
Coach Abrams looked at me with a deep expression. So caring.
“Oh, Megan,” she repeated. “We’ll find a way. We’ll make it right for you.”
I blinked. What did she mean?
“Me and Alyssa,” she said. “I think she likes you too, see? You get that, right? You sense it?”
“I do, maybe, a little.”
“She does like you — trust me. I might be a dumpy old dyke coach, but I can see these things.”
I blinked and looked forward, at the teams running and kicking and trying to control the ball.
Coach Abrams stood up. “Stay strong, dear. You’re very much loved.”
She strutted up to the sideline and began to shout encouragement to the team. But time was drawing near, and the score was hopeless.
That evening we sat in the living room, Mother on her old green chair, me curled up on the couch reading a dreadfully dull “family safe” teen drama, the story of a frontier girl and her strong family — one father, one mother, two brothers, and a dog named “Patches.” Together they faced the challenges of frontier life without swearing or the slightest hint of sex.
After a while, when the mood had settled and Mother had finished her second glass of wine, I said, “Mother, I’d like to make friends with some of the girls on the team.”
She looked up at me, “Oh?”
“Yeah. Like, maybe those girls I worked with a lot, Sheila and Becky. They seem really nice. Oh, and that girl Alyssa is going to replace Brenda. She’s an amazing player.”
She set down her glass. “Are they Christian?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. I thought maybe I’d see if they wanted to hang out and get pizza or something. Then, you know, we could talk and I could find out about them.”
“I don’t know, Megan.”
I leaned down and scratched my big toe. Mother peered at me. Then I said, “Well, they all seem really happy and successful. So, there’s a good chance, right?”
“Megan. It isn’t that simple.”
Of course it wasn’t. Except when Pastor Bob was preaching, or passing the collection plate. But I didn’t say that out loud. Instead I said, “Well, it’d just be the one evening. I mean, I know right from wrong.”
Mother picked up her glass and took another sip of wine. She looked into the dark liquid.
“I’ll be working with them a lot, I think. Maybe. And we might play on the same team again next season. Like, if we all make it to the Classic League. Sheila’s gonna try.”
I glanced at her, then down, then back at her. She held her glass and stared into space. Then she said, “I’ll ask Pastor Bob.”
Indeed, Alyssa became our new assistant coach. When I first arrived on Tuesday, plodding over the rocky patch away from Mother’s waiting car, she was with the team and surrounded by very eager girls. She was laughing and talking. In her hand she held a soccer ball. As I neared, she tossed it down and began showing a trick. Then she looked up and saw me.
“Hey, Megan! Come here,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I’m gonna try to get past you. Stop me.”
She charged me, dribbling hard.
I wasn’t warmed up yet, and really not ready to do anything adventurous, but I gave it my best shot. I charged to tackle, but stopped short trying to throw her off-balance. It didn’t work at all. With a few sharp flicks on the ball she was past me.
“Heh. Nice try,” she said. “But this time, really come at me.”
We went again. This time I went at her hard. But just as I was about to connect, she nudged the spinning ball, just the tiniest bit, and my tackle was wide. She kept control and shot past me.
“Did you see what I did?” she asked.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Cool. We’ll work on it tonight.”
Just then Coach Abrams blew her whistle and we circled up.
“As you all no doubt have noticed,” Coach Abrams said, “Tonight we have a new teammate.”
Coach Abrams went on to introduce Alyssa, to those few who didn’t know her. Then we split into groups. Alyssa requested me, Becky, and Sheila. She wanted us to work on her trick.
It was really hard. To do it you had to tap the ball just as it was spinning a certain way, but if you got it right and kept control, you could get right past anyone who came at you hard.
Well, unless they were as good as Alyssa. Evidently she knew every trick and how to stop each trick. But we worked and worked, and after a while we could do it more often then not.
“We gonna win Saturday?” Alyssa asked the three of us.
“Yeah!” I said. Becky nodded. Sheila frowned.
Coach Abrams blew her whistle.
She went over Saturday’s game, who would play what position. I was going to start up front as a striker. If I did well the first half, I would stay up front.
“Congratulations,” Alyssa said. I smiled.
Then we split up and girls began heading to the parking lot. Except Alyssa, who remained with Coach Abrams. And except me. I also remained. I shuffled my feet, looked around, rubbed my palms together, looked around again — I could see the lamp on in Mother’s car, she was reading a book — and then I looked over at the two coaches.
“Alyssa,” I said, “can I ask you something?”
She turned away from Coach Abrams and saw me standing there. “Sure, Megan.”
“Like, alone.”
She smiled. Coach Abrams smiled also. The two of them glanced at each other, eye to eye, a knowing glance. Then Alyssa said, “Yeah. Definitely. Let’s walk and talk.”
She came over and put her arm around my shoulder. We began to cross the rocky patch between the field and the cars.
“So,” she asked, “what would you like to talk about?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead I bit my lip and felt a chill. I glanced at her, just a brief glance. She stopped with her hand gripping my shoulder. I stopped also. She stared directly at me.
“Megan, do you wanna ask me something?”
I nodded.
“’Cause, you can just ask. Like, just say it.”
I gulped. Then I waited a few more seconds, feeling the chills pass over me. Yes! Brave Megan.
I said it. “Can we go out, like, to get pizza or something. Just, y’know, nothing special.”
She ran her hand down my arm and stepped close. “Sure we can.”
I grinned. “Cool.”
Then she shoved me lightly on the shoulder. “And next time! Don’t be such a scaredy-cat.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t bite.”
I glanced and grinned. She winked and said, “Well, sometimes I bite.”
Again I felt cold and shivery, but in a different way, like I was plunging down the steep part of a roller coaster. Quickly, I dropped my gaze.
“Aww,” she said. “Well, come on.”
We began to walk again toward the cars. As we neared them I said, “Oh, one thing!”
“Yeah?”
“I have to ask my mom. I mean, she’s super, super strict, so — well — I hope she says yes.”
She ran her fingers down the center of my back. “Oh, yeah, of course. I hope she says yes too.”
Pastor Bob said yes to my getting pizza with the girls. As long as they were good players, he said. And I had to make sure they were Christians before I could see them again. And he would talk to me on Sunday and get all the details of the evening.
So, late Thursday afternoon found me getting ready for my date. I dug through my dresser and closet, trying to find something nice to wear. Next to me on the floor was a pile of rejected clothes: skirts, dresses, blouses, shirts, all too plain, too modest, not colorful, or just splashes of tacky floral. It was all so ugly and horrible.
“Megan!” Mother said from the doorway of my room. “It’s just pizza with the girls. Why are you going crazy over clothes?”
At that point I was on my knees trying to smooth out an old yellow blouse that just might do. I looked up at her. “Mother! These girls are popular — I mean, like, fashionable. They have cool clothes.” I looked back at the blouse. Around the sleeve the stitching was torn and a thread hung loose. I tugged at the thread and it came loose even more. “I don’t wanna be a freak.”
Mother sighed and stepped into my room. She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Is it too late to buy something?”
I looked up again. On her face was a warm expression.
“Please! No, it’s not too late.”
An hour later we were back from the shopping center, me the new owner of a lovely red top and blue denim skirt, not too short, but it didn’t quite reach my knees either. To that I added a beat up pair of red sneakers from my closet — they were a lame brand. But still, when I looked into the mirror, I thought I looked cute.
“Thanks Mom,” I said. She hugged me.
Soon after that I heard a car horn honk outside.
“That must be her!” I ran to the front door.
“Megan, wait!” I turned back. Mother came jogging up. “Give me a kiss.”
I kissed her cheek. She embraced me.
“Have fun, sweetie.”
I nodded and then ran outside.
Alyssa’s car was a Volkswagen Golf, blue like the color of a gumdrop. On the side windows were flower stickers, yellow and green. The seat covers were the pattern of cow spots. On the dashboard she had placed a bunch of silly fuzzy figurines. It was really cute.
She, on the other hand, was wearing a stunning, low-cut, strapless red dress that went only so far down — a fact I noticed when I got to the passenger door and looked in.
She leaned over and unlocked my door. I opened it and looked at her, amazed.
“Get in,” she said with a smile. Her hair was in braided pigtails, a style she’d come to favor, and which favored her. Their ends were bound by little blue bands, which rested just above the exposed tops of her breasts.
I slid in and smoothed out my little skirt.
“That’s a cute outfit,” she said.
I noticed Mother peeking through the front window.
“Thanks. Uh — we better go before Mother notices your dress.”
She grinned and started the engine.
“Yeah! It’s pretty fucking sexy, right?” She ran her fingers along the hem above her lightly freckled thighs.
I nodded. She backed out.
Then, as we drove three blocks toward highway 70, she asked, “So, whaddaya wanna do?”
We stopped at a light. She revved the engine and smiled.
“Uh — I dunno. Whatever.”
The light changed and we pealed out as she pulled onto the highway.
“Cool. One fun evening of whatever coming up.”
We drove west toward the setting sun.
After a while of cruising on toward the sunset, we pulled onto the Interstate and headed toward Raleigh. “Wanna grab a bite?” she asked.
“Yeah. Actually, my mom thinks we’re meeting Sheila and Becky for pizza.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That’s the only way she’d let me go out.”
“Hmm.” She yanked the wheel and swerved into the other lane. We passed a slow, red Buick. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing she never talks to anybody from the team.”
“Yeah.”
We exited the freeway and sped into town. Then, after a quick bite in trendy diner two blocks from that other diner where I’d once had lunch with Mom, Alyssa and I found ourselves walking along the gray flagstoned sidewalk of a downtown street. The sun had set, its orange glow gone completely. Only the barest hints of a bronzed sky still lingered in the west. As we walked, the streetlights began to come on.
“When do you have to be home?” she asked.
“9:30.”
She took my hand. “There’s a cool park up ahead. Lots of trees and shade.” Her hand squeezed mine. “And privacy.”
“Okay,” I said. Still walking beside her, I pulled close and rested my head on her shoulder. We passed scattered people: men in business suits leaving the office, couples dressed nice, heading out for an evening on the town, a policeman strolling past whistling a random, angular tune.
I recognized none of them. That was good. I very much did not want to see anybody from church.
“Here’s the park,” Alyssa said.
The place stretched for a whole city block. There were sprawling, dark trees and little sandy paths that curled back into the shadows away from the clear white glow of the streetlights.
Alyssa grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.” She pulled me into the darkness.
Above us the trees spread their branches and blotted out the hazy glow of the night sky. Around us we heard crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves blown by the breeze. Other couples were in the park. We saw their silhouettes, strolling, holding hands, small kisses.
Alyssa led me from the path and under a particularly low-hanging tree. We heard another couple there, mysterious in the darkness. Leaves crunched. The low murmur of gentle voices.
“Sorry,” Alyssa whispered. We moved to a different but equally obscure tree.
She was only a shadow to me. But I could see her shape. I could feel the soft fabric of her dress as my arms wrapped around her.
We kissed. My first kiss. On the mouth. I felt butterflies in my tummy. I felt tingles down my arms and legs.
“I like you a lot, Megan.”
Again I brought my lips to her lips. I didn’t want to talk.
She put her hands on my lower back and kissed me more. She grew passionate, kissing deeper and deeper. Her tongue flicked into my mouth.
I let her. My eyes clamped shut. My mouth pressed to hers. My arms were around her, pulling her against me. I felt very deep things.
Her hands went down to my bottom. They squeezed.
I kissed her harder. Now I pressed my tongue into her mouth. One of my hands held her behind her neck. The other drifted down to her bottom.
Then my skirt began to rise. Her hands rubbed my bottom through my thin panties. I squirmed, pushed, and then backed away.
“Wait, no,” I said. “Hold on. Not that fast.”
“Okay,” she said. “Sorry.”
We began kissing again. This time she leaned into me, lips locked to mine, and grasped my breasts through my tee. She stroked and rubbed. She explored, until she found my nipples. Those she pinched.
“Mmm,” I said. Little coos in the darkness. My eyes fluttered. My knees felt weak. But when her one hand withdrew from my breast and ran slowly down my tummy toward my place, I broke from her again.
“Alyssa! Please. I’m not ready for that.”
“That’s cool, Meg. I mean, sure.” Her voice sounded sharp, impatient.
I came forward to kiss again, but she turned her face away.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She stepped back. “Look, I mean, I like you, right?” She reached and took my hand. “I like you a lot. But I did the whole holding hands and shy kissing thing when I was twelve.”
Again, in the darkness, I felt her hand on my breast. Light strokes, long caresses. My mouth went dry.
“Megan, now I fuck.”
She pulled me to her, her hand on my ass, my skirt up.
Then she broke the kiss and released my bottom.
“Don’t wait for sex. Just don’t. Waiting is so stupid. Trust me, once you feel it, once it comes over you, it’s — ” She paused. Again she stepped forward and pressed against me. “Then you’ll understand.”
Her hands were on me. I felt so hot, my mouth so dry, but my other place — it was also warm, I could feel the wetness in my panties. I squirmed. My nipples burned.
But again I pushed her away.
“Sorry, Alyssa. I wanna be with you, so much, like, your girlfriend. But please, go slow.”
In the darkness I saw her posture go rigid. “Fine, Megan, if that’s what you want.”
My voice sounded so meek. “Please, Alyssa. Please.” I reached and touched her shoulder. I slipped my finger beneath the edge of her dress and moved it down her chest over her soft breasts.
The warm air clung to us, surrounding us as I moved my fingers gently over her breasts. Little touches. Soon her posture seemed to relax. Her head tilted. She reached out, but this time only to caress my face, down my cheek, across my chin.
“Oh, Megan. You’re a dear.”
I closed my eyes and felt her touches. Her other hand joined the first and pulled me to her. She raised my chin and kissed my mouth.
A small kiss.
“Fine, Megan. Slow. Sure, for a while. But I fuck now, you gotta understand. So, yeah, I’ll give you some time. A little.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her as hard as I could. I rested my head against her. My face touched the skin of her breasts. Warmth.
“But I want a little bit now,” she said, “just a small bit.”
My eyes remained closed. “What?”
“I wanna touch your pussy.”
I drew away.
“No! Wait, Megan. Just up your skirt, just a few seconds. You can keep your panties on.”
I stood quiet in the darkness.
“Please! I’ve been thinking about your pussy all day. Just five seconds.”
Why was I waiting? I stood and thought, but not for too long. She was there before me, a shadowy presence, all that I had ever wanted.
“Okay,” I said. “Five seconds.”
I didn’t count. I’m not sure if she counted, but when she finished, it seemed much longer. She came to me and raised my skirt. Slowly, so very softly, she ran her fingers over my place, touching me through the soft fabric of my little cottony things.
Tingles. Such tingles, shooting up me. Again my eyes fluttered. Again I cooed — I couldn’t help that. I kissed her deeply.
Then I said, “Okay. You can do more. If you want.”
Two hours later found me on a cheaply upholstered couch in a ratty living room in a tumbledown, red-brick apartment just east of Durham. My skirt was still on, but my shirt and bra were piled on a chair across from the couch. My panties were missing.
Alyssa came through the front door. “Sorry, sweetie, they weren’t in the car either. We must have left them in the park?”
I thought we had taken all of our clothes as we left the park, looking for a better place to fool around. But I guess I had left my panties there.
I shrugged. No big. She came and sat next to me. “So where did we leave off?” She touched my face.
To answer, I slipped down to to the floor and pushed up her dress. Then I kissed her thighs a few times. Then I kissed higher. I ran my tongue over her soft place.
Unlike mine, her panties were with the other clothes piled loose on the couch.
Back in the park, I had licked her place for a very long time, until she shuddered and cried out — far too loudly. And she had licked me. How wonderful that was! My pleasure grew and grew. I moaned, panted, squealed, and felt so many things. I shuddered, my eyes clamped shut.
But I didn’t reach climax.
“It feels great,” I said.
“Yeah. But you’ll know when you come, sweetie.”
She licked me for quite a while.
“Darling,” she said, “I wanna make you come so bad. Maybe it’s something about the park. Maybe you can’t do it leaning against a tree. Or in public.”
“Maybe,” I said. But I wasn’t sure. The tree was not so uncomfortable, and nobody seemed to be bothering us. Plus the night air felt clean and wonderful. The sounds of the crickets and rustling leaves were so calming. My mind drifted through softness and beauty as she frantically licked me. I played with her pigtails and smiled.
Then again, a few times I had to concentrate real hard to keep my knees from giving out. Maybe that was the problem.
So she drove us to her sister’s horrible apartment where we could play on an ugly couch by a stinky kitchen.
It was worth a try.
So here I was, In that dank, terrible place, licking her until she climaxed again.
“Oh fuck, Megan. Yeah. Do that. Faster! Faster!”
I licked faster until she thrashed about like an animal. Then, deep breaths, panting. Then another shudder. A squeal.
“Oh God, Megan. Get up here.”
She pulled me up and kissed me passionately.
“Sit down!”
I sat down. Again she went down on me, my skirt pushed up around my tummy, my legs parted wide.
“Oh fuck, I love your pussy. I love it so much.”
She pressed her lips to the little super-sensitive magic place near the front. She sucked hard. Slurping noises. Her pants and moans.
I felt it climbing inside of me. I closed my eyes.
Licking and sucking and kissing. I groaned. Then she slipped her fingers in, probing around all the different places inside of me. After a while she found a very special place.
“Oh, Alyssa! That thing. Keep doing that!”
Her mouth was on me, her fingers in me. Sucking and rubbing.
Inside me something surged.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said.
Then I slammed back into the couch and could only make the most guttural sounds.
The feeling grew and grew. I couldn’t believe it.
Then I felt an amazing, floating, drifting sense of wonderful. My eyes squeezed closed. I felt my body move against the couch, each touch so pleasing, beyond anything else. I felt my own fingers pinching my own swollen nipples. My toes curled.
Then, gradually, I began to sense the world again. Her mouth was still on me, her fingers still in me. Sucking and rubbing
“Oh, Alyssa! Don’t stop!”
It seemed she had no intention of stopping. Yes! Another wave crested. I beat the couch with my hands and kicked out my legs as it rushed over me.
Then it passed away again. She came up, her face to my face. “How’d you like it?” She smiled.
I laughed. “Oh, fuck. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“So, it was good?”
“Oh God. Kiss me.”
She kissed my slack mouth. She pulled my twitching, rubbery body to her body, molding my form to hers. She squeezed my ass.
“Oh you fucking hot little beast,” she said.
I closed my eyes and muttered, “Yes, I’m your little beast.”
“All mine,” she said.
“All yours.”
It grew late, far past my curfew. But I couldn’t stop fucking Alyssa.
By now we were in her sister’s spare room on a messy bed. I lay face down. Alyssa was behind me, straddling my legs. She squeezed my ass and kissed it. “I love your ass,” she said.
I closed my eyes and felt things.
“Here, spread your legs.”
She lifted up on one side so I could squirm and shift one leg out from under her. She leaned and kissed my bottom again. Then she reached in and ran her fingers up my pussy — so slowly over my wet place. Her fingers continued until they reached my anus. She pressed, just a little.
I moaned.
“Do you like that?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She pressed again, wiggling her fingers.
I squirmed and giggled.
She pushed a little bit more. I felt it begin to enter.
“No, wait! Not that!”
Her finger stopped. “Okay,” she said. She took her fingers away and sat up.
“No, wait. I mean, I like that — a lot. Just don’t put it in.”
“Fine.” She touched me there again. “I guess that would be too much for your first time.” Her finger wiggled.
I squirmed and squeezed the sheets.
“Okay. So, tell me if you like this?” she asked.
Then I felt something touch me there, wet and squirmy. There! Her mouth? “Oh! Oh! Oh!” I said.
She sat up. “So, did you like that?”
“Oh, yes! That feels so good.”
“Good. Your asshole is so fucking hot.”
She put her mouth back, her tongue pressed. Then she slipped her fingers into my pussy. They pumped while her tongue probed.
She fucked me that way until I climaxed again. So much!
When I relaxed, she asked, “Will you do it to me?”
“Uh — with my fingers. I don’t wanna do the mouth thing.”
“Okay, my angel.”
She pulled me up so that we sat face to face. I dropped my gaze and said, “I mean, I will if you really want.”
“Nah.” She smiled and touched my face. “You’re doing great for your first time. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” I nodded. “Your fingers are fine.”
She plopped down on the bed, butt up with her legs spread. I got behind her and used my fingers on her pussy and ass until she came, shaking and squealing.
“Oh, fuck!”
I looked down on her, on her sweet pussy, moist and glistening. I licked my fingers. I looked at her round ass, so perfect, gleaming white. I ran my fingers over it. So smooth! She giggled. I spread her cheeks and looked at her little butthole. So round and sexy.
I gave it one little kiss, just a quick smack, just because she was so much, so dear, so perfect. Nothing about her could be bad.
She turned to me with a gigantic smile. “Oh, sweetie. Oh, baby.” She pulled me to her and kissed me. “Oh, Megan.”
I felt small in her arms, such a little, blessed thing, loved, protected. I touched my nipples. I wanted to fuck her more.
The evening rolled on, soft, slow, gentle. We came and came.
It was 2:30 by the time she got me home. We pulled into the driveway. The porch light was on.
“Well, here we are,” she said.
I took her hand. “Yeah.”
“So, uh, sorry about your panties.”
I shrugged. “No big. I have others. And I’m pretty sure Mother won’t lift my skirt to check.” I gave her a sidelong smile.
She blinked. “Heh.” She ran her fingers down my arm. “So, well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I said.
But I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for the door handle.
She glanced at me, then back forward. “Wanna kiss goodnight?”
I looked at the front of the house. It was dark on the inside. I saw no movement in the windows. The draperies were all in place.
I didn’t feel watched.
“Sure. Just one, though.”
Again I glanced cautiously at the house. When I turned back to face Alyssa, she brought her mouth to my mouth for our goodnight kiss.
We released the kiss. Her eyes peered at me, soft gray spots in the vague glow of the streetlight. My gaze dropped to her little dress, its hem, her thighs — and what lay between them.
I looked back up. She smiled and shoved my shoulder.
“Go on in, Megan.”
I nodded, quickly kissed her again, and then got out. When I got to the door of the house, I turned and watched her back out. A final wave, each of us to the other. Then she drove away.
I tuned and entered. In the pitch black interior, Mother was waiting.