Scipio S by Nick Scipio SC: Gina


On November 4, 1979, Iranian militants stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran. My family spent a tense night at the Coulter house, watching satellite TV and the local news. Everyone in the U.S. seemed to be furious at the Iranians, and with good reason; they were holding U.S. citizens hostage.

In addition, my life turned into a minor hell. Gina’s life was worse, but that was the problem. Because of her complexion, she took a lot of abuse. No one seemed to care that she wasn’t Iranian. No one seemed to care that she wasn’t even Middle Eastern. She was as American as I was, but the color of her skin made her stand out.

She tried to be philosophical about it, but I could tell that it really hurt her feelings. Heather, Shannon, Scott, and I were as supportive as possible, but Gina was still miserable. We spent Monday night on the couch, watching TV with Scott and Shannon. The whole time, Gina seemed distracted and melancholy.

Who could blame her?

Leah was in a funk too, for exactly the same reason Gina was. My emotions were simmering, but I knew it was worse for the two of them. Not only were they angry and worried about the American hostages, but they had to deal with bigotry and hatred closer to home.

The Tuesday after the hostages were taken, I got in a minor scuffle when someone shoved Gina into her locker. I didn’t even know the guy, but I pushed him so hard that the lockers on the other side of the hall boomed when he slammed into them.

When I turned to Gina, she was trying to choose between being angry with me for my overreaction or grateful for my support. I put my arm around her, glared at the guy I’d shoved into the lockers, and we headed off to class.

Later that same day, three guys asked me why I was dating a “filthy Iranian whore.” As calmly as I could, I told them she was Indian, not Iranian. They didn’t seem to care. They told me they’d “kill that worthless cunt” if they had the chance. At that point, I lost my temper and hit the ringleader. Hard. He went down and then I rounded on his two friends.

Coach Nagle, the basketball coach, broke up the ensuing scuffle, but we all ended up in the vice-principal’s office. We each got three days of detention. When I had to explain to Coach Simmons that I’d be late to wrestling practice, he nearly bit my head off.

From that point on, things only got worse.

Becky Leonardi started it, but Tony Malone and I finished it. Becky and Amy had tried to stir up trouble for Gina when school first began, but they hadn’t really succeeded. With tensions running as high as they were because of the hostage crisis, it seemed like our school was a ticking bomb.

That Friday night, at the school football game, Becky “accidentally” spilled Coke on Gina. Then she and Amy had the nerve to stand back and laugh about it. Scott and Shannon tried to drag me away, but I’d had all I was going to take from Becky Leonardi. As I stalked toward her, Tony made the mistake of getting in my way. He told me to take my “little Iranian slut” and get lost. Three of his friends stepped up behind him.

I was ready to take on all four of them, but after my detention and the ass-chewings from both my father and Coach Simmons, I didn’t want to get in another fight. For a moment, I simply glared at Tony, seething with fury. But he’d found his courage—somewhere—and he wasn’t backing down.

We glared at each other for a long, hate-filled moment. I wanted to smash the smug expression off his face. But I also wanted to stay on the wrestling team and not go to jail. With a contemptuous snort, I turned and started walking back toward Gina, Scott, and Shannon.

That’s when Tony shoved me from behind and called me a pussy. I was bound and determined not to get into another fight, I told myself. Without looking back, I kept walking. When he shoved me again and told me to go back to my whore, I whirled, furious. My vision focused on him, and the world seemed to narrow. My voice was deadly calm as I told him not to say another word about Gina.

Instead of backing down, he swung at me. I think he actually hit me, but I honestly don’t remember. I certainly didn’t feel it. All I remember is grabbing his wrist, twisting his arm behind him, and running him full-speed into a chain-link fence. From behind, I hitched up his arm, painfully, my face only inches from his ear.

“If you ever talk about her like that again,” I fumed, “I’ll rip your arm off and beat you to death with it.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” he said. Then he tried to twist loose.

When he did, I heard a pop and he started screaming his head off. I let him go and he sagged bonelessly to the ground, still screaming in pain. Becky glared at me murderously, but no one made a move toward me. I don’t know what they saw in my eyes, but it stopped them in their tracks.

Incongruously, the football game was still going on, the sound of the announcer blaring in the background. Around me, there was a ring of students, inevitably drawn to the fight. The three guys who’d originally stood with Tony tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. I looked each of them in the eye, silently daring them to come at me. In turn, they each looked down and shuffled nervously.

“She’s not Iranian, you fucking idiots,” I said to the crowd in general. “She’s American.”

About that time, the security guard showed up. Then someone called the police. Tony was still moaning in pain, so they called an ambulance. While the police questioned me, the medics treated Tony; he had a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist.

I don’t remember breaking his wrist, but I figured he deserved it.

Becky told the police I just attacked Tony, unprovoked. To my surprise, when the officer questioned Amy, she told him the truth. Gina, Scott, and Shannon told the same story: I faced four to one odds, and Tony hit me first.

After talking to several other witnesses who corroborated my story, the policeman came back and told me how lucky I was. Since Tony hit me first, and I still tried to walk away, it was clearly self-defense. Another “mitigating factor,” the officer said, was that three other guys had been with Tony.

About that time, my parents showed up. My dad talked to the police while Mom made sure I was all right. I was sitting in the police car with the door open, but I wasn’t under arrest.

That weekend, I wasn’t exactly grounded, but I couldn’t leave the house. In addition, practically everyone I knew called me. I was amazed at how fast the news spread, and how distorted most of it was. Some people heard I’d broken all the bones in Tony’s hand. Others heard I’d ripped his arm completely out of its socket. And a few even heard I put him in a coma. Mom finally took the phone off the hook, tired of its incessant ringing.

I got the expected lecture from my parents. And on Monday morning, I was summoned to the vice-principal’s office. Tony was there as well, looking sullen. His face had a big bruise from the fence, his arm was in a sling, and his wrist was in a cast. I planned to apologize to him, but when he saw me, he practically snarled.

“Suit yourself,” I said, taking the seat on the other side of the door.

Since the fight was actually on school property, the vice-principal had to punish us. For starting it, Tony was suspended for three days. I was given three days of in-school suspension. So while Tony would be out of school completely—and would receive failing grades for any homework, quizzes, or tests he missed—I would be in a room by myself, doing all my assignments.

That afternoon, Coach Simmons called me into his office before practice even started. With a gesture, he commanded me to shut the door. Then he told me to sit down.

“I don’t want to know who started it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fighting is unacceptable, son.” He paused to let that sink in. “I try to teach you boys control and discipline, both on the mat and off. Now, I understand schoolyard politics, but you’ve got to use your head, son, even when the other boy hits you first.”

So he does know what happened! I thought.

“No one wins a fistfight. And I have no room on my team for someone who can’t keep his temper under control. Do I make myself clear, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Then he regarded me levelly. Finally, he said, “You’ll practice with the rest of the team, but you’re suspended for the first two meets. Eric Greene will take your place on the varsity squad and we’ll forfeit his JV matches.”

I knew better than to protest.

“Now,” he said, his face inscrutable, “get out there and warm up. And you’d better practice as hard as usual. If you slack off one bit, you’re off the team. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can go.”

Before I walked out the door, I turned to him, my chest tight. “Coach?”


“I… I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, son. Just keep your nose clean. You’ll be all right.” Before I could turn to go, he stopped me with a gesture. “This Iranian business is bad all around. But that’s no reason to pick on an innocent girl,” he said. Then he turned serious. “How’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s all right, sir,” I said. “No one’s bothered her since… well… since the other night.”

He chuckled darkly. “No, I suspect they wouldn’t.” Then his face turned hard again. “Go on, now. Get warmed up.”

With a nod, I headed toward the locker room.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that week, Gina and I made the trip to Knoxville with the Paytons, for the Notre Dame game. Most of the furor over my fight had died down, but we were still happy to get out of town. About an hour north of Atlanta, Gina’s mood brightened. I think she was excited about seeing Kendall, but she was also relieved to get away from school and all its problems.

Since Kendall’s roommate didn’t go home for the weekend, we couldn’t spend the night in her room, but we had fun nonetheless. When Kendall’s suitemate Toni saw me, her eyes widened and she giggled. Then she whispered to her roommate, Bridget. To my embarrassment, Bridget’s eyes widened as well.

“I think you made an impression,” Kendall teased.

After the football game, Gina and I got to spend some time alone with Kendall, but we didn’t have sex. Mostly, we talked about school. Kendall enjoyed her classes, and for the first time, she was being challenged by her professors. Gina and I talked about our classes as well, but the difference between college and high school made our courses seem tame.

Gina wasn’t feeling very well, so she headed back to the camper. She insisted that I stay and spend some time with Kendall. Once we were alone, Kendall seemed happy, very different from the girl who wrote me letters each week. In her letters, she wasn’t exactly miserable, but she did sound lonely. She didn’t say she still had trouble making friends, but I knew.

Most of the guys who asked her out were “frat rats,” who only had one thing on their minds. “Two, actually,” she had joked in one letter. “I think I’m going to name my tits Tallulah and Betty, so I can actually tell the guys who they’re talking to.”

Sometimes she wrote me three letters a week. When she was busy, I’d get a monogrammed card telling me how much she loved me and how much she missed me. I wrote her as often as I could, at least once a week. I told her about school, wrestling, friends, and things I couldn’t tell Gina.

In our letters, we got to know each other even better. As I learned more about her life, I got to see inside her head and feel some of her insecurities and yearning for friendship. She had friends, but none of them were very close. Not like me, at least. And while she had gone on a few dates, she didn’t go out with any guy more than twice. For one reason or another, they didn’t appeal to her.

In person, she was as warm and loving as ever, the loneliness banished for a time. I knew how isolated she felt, and I was determined to make her feel like she was a part of something. So we spent our time together simply lying on her bed, my arm around her.

All too soon, though, I had to meet Gina and the Paytons. Kendall wiped her cheeks, kissed me, and then we walked hand-in-hand to the stadium parking lot.

✧ ✧ ✧

Susan flew in for Thanksgiving. Since Kirk didn’t think he could make it home from Annapolis and Doug was studying for exams, she accepted our invitation to come to Atlanta.

The day before Thanksgiving, Doug decided he could study at our house as well as he could at school, so he flew in from Houston. Kirk hitched a ride to Atlanta on a Navy ferry flight bound for Pensacola, and arrived late Wednesday evening. Susan was overjoyed to see them.

The Coulters ate Thanksgiving dinner at our house, so we had an enjoyable day of family, food, floats, and football. Over the long weekend, Susan and I didn’t get to spend as much time alone together as we would have liked, but we did manage to get together twice.

The first time was late Thursday night. My bedroom door quietly opened and then shut. When Susan gently shook me, I popped my eyes open, startling her, and then pulled her to me. It was exciting making love to her in my own bed, and I think she felt it too. Finally, in the early morning hours, she got up, kissed me, and went back to the guest bedroom.

The second time was Friday. Elizabeth and my mom were shopping with Erin and Leah. Kirk, Doug, and Kara (who had also come home for Thanksgiving) wanted to go see a movie. They invited Gina and me, but we declined. Dad and Chris were working on a project at our house—a barbecue grill made out of a 55-gallon steel drum—so Gina and I offered to show Susan the Coulters’ house. It was pure pretext, but I’m sure Gina’s and my parents understood what was really going on.

At Gina’s house, we started the hot tub. It was about twenty feet from the back porch, surrounded by a high privacy hedge and trellises. From the house, you could only see the steps up to the deck surrounding the tub. After Gina took off the cover and turned on the jets, we gave Susan a tour of the house. Before long, however, we headed out to the secluded tub, took off our clothes, and eased into hot, swirling water.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since last summer,” Gina said.

“I’m sorry things worked out like they did,” Susan said. Then she shrugged. “But I just didn’t think it would be right.”

I nodded my agreement.

“Well,” Gina said, “it’s okay now.”

Susan grinned at me as Gina reached for my dick. Then the older woman sat on the edge of the tub and spread her legs, revealing her smooth pussy. Still stroking me, Gina leaned over and began tonguing Susan’s slippery channel. Then I gently pulled Gina’s hand off my erection, moved behind her, and slid into her pussy while she continued licking Susan.

A little later, Gina marveled that Susan could take me all the way down her throat. Gina wanted to learn how to do it herself. Unfortunately, her gag reflex was too strong, but she had fun trying (and so did I).

By the time we dragged ourselves out of the bubbling water, shriveled and sated, we’d been gone almost three hours. We joked about our “three-hour cruise” as we dried off and got dressed. I smiled to myself, since I had my very own Ginger and Mary Ann. Dad and Chris didn’t say anything when we returned, but they both smiled knowingly.

For the rest of the weekend, Gina seemed to be in sexual overdrive, keeping me busy any time we could sneak away. The rest of the time, we simply relaxed and enjoyed the holiday. It was a weekend of contrasts: sexual frenzy and absolute indolence.

On Sunday afternoon, all three families made a trip to the airport. Doug had a flight back to Houston, and Kara boarded a plane bound for Charleston. Since Kirk couldn’t hitch a ride with another Navy flight, he bought a commercial ticket and flew to Annapolis via Washington, DC. Over a two-hour span, they each boarded their respective flights (after much hugging, kissing, and waving goodbye).

Susan spent one more night with us. The Coulters planned a party at their house for her and my parents. Gina and I, of course, knew what was going on. But before Gina even asked if we could join them, our parents sat us down and we all had a long talk.

Somewhat conveniently, Susan had gone to the local mall with Erin and Leah, so we wouldn’t be disturbed. I easily recognized the signs of Mom, Elizabeth, and Susan in collusion.

Elizabeth very reasonably explained to Gina that even though we were allowed a lot of freedom, we weren’t adults yet. Consequently, we couldn’t participate in the group swinging.

“Kara joined you,” Gina argued.

“Kara’s an adult. She’s over eighteen and she can make that decision for herself.”

“So? We’re mature enough.”

“In some ways,” Elizabeth replied, “but in many ways, you’re still sixteen.”

“It’s not fair…”

“Life’s like that sometimes,” Elizabeth said. “When you’re both eighteen, you can join us.”

“But Mom—”

“Gina,” Elizabeth cautioned.

I simply watched the whole explanation with equanimity. I knew where the discussion was headed almost before Elizabeth started talking. With a small sense of satisfaction, I noticed that Mom and Dad didn’t seem to be worried about my reaction.

Note to self: Maybe acting like an adult really does mean they treat me like one.

“If you want to whine about it,” Elizabeth continued, unperturbed, “then you can stay here tonight… by yourself.”

That got Gina’s attention.

“But if you’d like to act like an adult, we’ll treat you like one,” Elizabeth said.

“So you’ll let us join you?” Gina hoped aloud.

“No, but your father and I were going to let you and Leah spend the night at the Hughes’s house. Unless,” she added, trying to hide a smile, “you want to continue whining about what’s not fair.”

“No,” Gina said. “I want to stay with Paul.”

“I thought you’d see it our way,” Elizabeth said without a trace of smugness. Then she looked at me and winked.

When Mom saw the gesture, she rolled her eyes at Elizabeth’s antics. Elizabeth only grinned wryly and then turned back to her daughter.

“You all can order pizza,” Elizabeth said, “and watch TV… or… whatever.”

Gina and I both nodded our assent.

✧ ✧ ✧

The week before Christmas, Gina’s friend Lisa McGrath came from Charleston to visit. Gina wanted me to come over and meet her after lunch. Elizabeth and Leah had gone Christmas shopping with Mom and Erin, so I asked to borrow Dad’s car, a ’76 Corvette. It was painted Orange Flame—an incredibly cool-looking fiery color—and I rarely got to drive it.

I called Gina before I left, and she told me to simply come inside when I got there. She and Lisa were in her room. I took the long way to her house, and arrived about fifteen minutes later. (What did you expect? I was driving a Corvette!)

When I arrived at the Coulters’ house, I walked around back and entered through the kitchen door. Gina’s room was upstairs, so I called out and then headed up. Her door was shut, so I knocked softly and told her it was me. I heard movement inside, but it stopped almost immediately. Then Gina told me to come in.

“Paul,” she said, when I opened the door, “this is Lisa.”

Lisa had medium-length light blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and a sultry smile (as well as lips that looked like they were made to give blowjobs). She was about as tall as Gina, although a little less curvy. Where Gina’s breasts were full and round, Lisa’s were quite a bit smaller, with light brown nipples. Her pubic hair was also light blonde, and trimmed into a neat, narrow triangle.

Both girls were nude. They stood posing for me—their arms around each other’s waists—smiling mischievously. When I gazed at Gina, she arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said to Lisa, holding my hand out and trying to maintain my composure.

“Nice to meet you too… finally,” she said. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

“Same here.” Then I looked her in the eye. “So,” I asked, as conversationally as I could, “do you always meet new people like this? Or is this something special for me?”

“You don’t like my outfit?” she asked with an impish pout.

“Actually, your outfit’s really cute.”

“I told you he’d like you,” Gina said to the other girl, her eyes glittering with barely suppressed anticipation.

“But,” I continued, “it’s not the kind of thing I see everyday.”

“We were hoping you had a similar outfit,” Gina said.

“Oh, I do,” I said, “but Lisa and I have only just met. I don’t know if…”

Before I could finish, the two girls looked at each other, grinned, and came at me. Of course, I didn’t even try to fend them off. While Gina kissed me passionately, Lisa lifted my shirt out of my jeans.

“God, I’m so hot for you,” Gina said, pulling back so they could lift my shirt over my head.

Between the two of them, they quickly had me out of my clothes.

“You’re right, he’s gorgeous,” Lisa said, kissing my chest.

“Didn’t I tell you?”

Then they dropped to their knees in front of me and Gina showed Lisa how I liked to have my dick sucked. From there, we quickly progressed to the bed. In many ways, Lisa was quite a bit like Gina. The blonde girl had a lot less experience, but no less enthusiasm. It was like having sex with two nymphs; I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

I hadn’t brought any rubbers—not realizing I’d need them—and I didn’t know if Lisa was on the pill or not, so I made sure not to come inside her. Almost as soon as I pulled out and came on her supple stomach, Gina realized why.

“She’s on the pill,” she said, to which Lisa nodded.

For the next hour and a half, the girls wore me out. They sucked me. I licked them. I fucked one while she ate the other. One straddled me while I ate the other. They licked each other while I was recovering. They licked me while I was recovering.

When I finally had to take a break, Gina pouted. Then she looked indecisive for a moment. Finally, she reached into her nightstand drawer and retrieved a pink plastic vibrator. It was only a little smaller than my dick, but smooth and tapered.

“Pinky!” Lisa cried.

“Kara gave it to me before we moved,” Gina explained. “She said she’d get a new one.” Then she looked at me and blushed.

I merely shrugged and gestured for her to enjoy herself. Gina obviously liked my dick; I didn’t feel threatened by plastic, electronics, and a pair of C-cell batteries.

“I didn’t know if you’d like me having this,” she said, relieved. Then she rolled her eyes. “If my mom knew how many batteries I go through…”

“I’ve missed Pinky,” Lisa said, her eyes alight.

“C’mere, I’ll do you first.”

As I watched, idly playing with my semi-hard penis, Gina took great delight in slowly working the vibrator into Lisa. After a few minutes, they switched positions and Gina spread her legs. Her dark, slippery labia parted as she did, revealing the deep pink of her inner folds.

For the next fifteen minutes, they plunged the buzzing toy into one another. While they did, I stroked myself. When Lisa realized I was completely hard, she practically pounced on me. That started another round of fucking and sucking (and vibrating). By the time we fell back on the bed, exhausted, I had come five times. In two hours!

While we were catching our breath, the phone rang. It was Gina’s mom. She, my mom, and our sisters were going to eat dinner out, since they were near downtown Atlanta. Gina’s dad was going to meet them at the restaurant.

Elizabeth suggested that Gina and I take Lisa out to dinner. After Gina hung up, I called my dad. As long as I was responsible, he said, I could drive the Corvette when I took the girls out to eat. I promised to be extra careful and he seemed satisfied.

So I had a hot car, two super-hot girls, and a dinner date. The girls would have to share the passenger seat in the two-place car, but I was sure they wouldn’t mind.

Until then, however, Gina pointed out that we had several hours. Then she got a playful look in her eye. She had been teasing me about shaving her pubic hair ever since our afternoon in the hot tub with Susan. When Gina told Lisa about it, the blonde enthusiastically agreed to shave herself too. I rolled my eyes and wondered just what I’d gotten myself into. Then Gina jumped up and practically dragged us toward her parents’ bathroom.

Once there, she filled the large bathtub and retrieved several fresh razors. Gina wanted to go first, so Lisa and I carefully shaved her, taking our time to spread her open and get every last hair. Then Lisa hopped onto the side of the tub and spread her legs for us. Her labia were smaller than Gina’s, but just as cute. She watched eagerly as we ran the razor over her.

When Lisa was as clean and smooth as Gina, the girls insisted on shaving me. Who was I to refuse? Since we weren’t at camp and I wouldn’t have to wear swim trunks, I lifted myself onto the side of the tub and spread my legs. Then the girls took their time lathering my cock and balls.

“Be careful,” I warned as they lifted my penis to shave the base. “I’m planning on using that thing.”

“So are we,” Lisa said.

While they shaved, they talked, and I learned a lot about Lisa. She was dating Joey Annecchiarico (Joey Whatshisname). She said she’d been having sex with him, but he wasn’t nearly as good as me. And he wasn’t as big, she said, idly stroking my slippery, half-hard cock.

“So you didn’t miss anything,” Lisa said to Gina.

Gina blushed and quickly changed the subject.

While they ran the razor over my scrotum, I silently cringed. But they were as careful with me as I’d been with them, and I was soon hair-free as well. When they rinsed off the last of the shaving cream, they admired their work.

“It looks bigger, doesn’t it?” Gina mused.

“Yeah,” Lisa agreed.

Then I realized she was playing with herself with her other hand.

After that, the girls wanted to see what it looked like when I slid my cock into their shaved pussies. So we quickly dried off, rinsed the hair out of the bathtub (Gina’s idea), and headed toward Gina’s room. Before we got there, however, she suggested we head outside to the hot tub.

Once there, we fooled around in the water for a few minutes. Then Gina hopped onto the deck at the edge of the hot tub, shivered in the cold air as her nipples immediately grew erect, then spread her legs. Steam was coming off her café au lait body, and with her legs spread, her shaven pussy seemed to beckon to me.

For the next hour, I fucked both girls almost non-stop. Neither of them seemed to get enough of the sight of my cock plunging into them and spreading their pussy open. It was an incredibly erotic sight, seeing the clean-shaven base of my cock with a beautiful pair of shaved labia wrapped snugly around it.

When we finally dragged ourselves out of the water, I had come twice more—once in Gina’s mouth, and once deep inside Lisa. Then we took a shower together. As the girls got ready for dinner, I relaxed in Gina’s room. When I heard them emerge from the bathroom, I started gathering my clothes.

Then I helped them select outfits for our date. Gina decided on a white turtleneck. Without a bra, her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Then, she got a bright idea and rushed off toward her parents’ room. When she returned, she got Lisa to help with the garter belt and silk stockings.

She looked incredible. The white fabric of the garter belt accentuated her dark skin and neatly framed her shaved labia. Almost reluctantly, she put on a dark red skirt and vest outfit, in keeping with the season.

Lisa picked out a pale pink fuzzy angora sweater, which buttoned up the front. It matched her full, pink lips almost perfectly. She also went braless, picking out a cute dark blue ruffled skirt to round out her ensemble. As the girls modeled their outfits, I realized that neither of them had put on panties.

“Don’t put your underwear back on,” Gina begged as I picked up my clothes.

With a shrug, I tossed the white briefs on her bed and stuck my leg in my jeans. Then I carefully tucked my dick into my fly and zipped it gently. Before I put on my shirt, the girls pressed themselves against me, both their hands running over my muscular chest. Finally, I talked them into letting me put on my shirt.

For our dinner out, I decided on an Italian restaurant a couple of miles away. It had some fairly private booths in the back, and I hoped one was available. When we entered the restaurant, I asked the hostess about them. The restaurant was almost empty and all the back booths were free. As she led us to one, the girls smiled devilishly.

Almost as soon as we sat down, Lisa unbuttoned her sweater all the way to her navel. When she leaned forward, I could see all of her right breast. Not to be outdone, Gina unbuttoned her vest, revealing two very hard, very noticeable nipples. Fortunately, the booth was situated so most of the patrons couldn’t see it, with a screen of plants hiding it from all but the table by the kitchen. And since the restaurant was almost deserted, no one was sitting there.

During dinner, the girls teased me mercilessly, lifting their skirts and showing me their bare pussies. We ordered tiramisu for dessert, with three spoons, and then acted goofy trying to feed each other. The girls looked fantastic, but after our marathon afternoon of sex—not to mention a heavy Italian meal—I wasn’t ready to do anything more than simply look. Luckily for me, I think the girls were probably as worn out as I was. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they were still in the mood to do more than tease me.

A while later, I asked for the bill. Gina and Lisa had cash, but I insisted on paying for dinner. I left a healthy tip and we put on our coats. Before going back to Gina’s house, we drove around for a while. Even though they were a little cramped in the passenger seat (Lisa was sitting on Gina’s lap), they enjoyed riding in the Corvette. But after thirty minutes, I dropped them off at Gina’s house and then headed home.

✧ ✧ ✧

Even during the Christmas break, we had wrestling practice. Scott, Mike, and I had become good friends, so we rode to practice together. (Mike was in my Physics class, and had started eating lunch with us. He was still shy, but he was slowly opening up.)

The reason we still had wrestling practice was that we still had meets. The final meet before Christmas was against our rival school. Gina, Lisa, and Heather came to see me wrestle. Dad was out of town, so only Mom came with them. Not surprisingly, Heather got along great with Lisa. Scott’s parents were there too, and sat with Gina, Lisa, Heather, and Mom.

During the meet, Scott actually lost his match. He wasn’t as good as Mike, but he was still a very good wrestler. He was real depressed about it, too, but Mike promised to show him how to counter the move the other wrestler had used to pin him. Mike, of course, won his match. When he returned to the bench, he grabbed my arm before I could head onto the mat for my match.

“Watch these guys,” he said, panting. “They’re good.”

I nodded and settled the protective headgear over my ears.

“And your guy,” he added, “looks stronger than you. Don’t lock up with him. Use your speed.”

My opponent, whose name was Pete Yeager, looked to be pushing the 187-pound weight limit for the class, which meant he’d have an almost ten-pound advantage over me.

Our match went nearly the full three rounds—six minutes. He was enormously strong, and it took all my cunning and finesse not to get into a position where he could out-muscle me. I was quicker, and because I was smaller, I actually had a few tricks up my sleeve.

In the end, one of them paid off. He had me on the defensive, but I managed to get my knees under me and come up to all fours. His arm was around my waist, tight, and he was trying to sweep my near arm out from under me.

Dimly, I remembered a crazy move Mike had taught me, weeks before. It was called a Granby roll, and it was very tough to do correctly. If I didn’t do it right, I’d practically pin myself. And even if I did do it right, Pete could still escape simply by letting go of me. But at that point in the match, he had worn me down and was simply biding his time until he won by points.

I decided to go for it.

I pushed up into a tripod with my legs, stepped through with my near leg, and let him chop my near arm out from under me. I’d been expecting the move, however, and ducked my head, rolling to my shoulders. With my right hand, I caught his wrist, the one around my waist, and gripped it fiercely.

Then I shoved hard with my left leg. My momentum rolled me onto my shoulders, pushing his body away from me in the process. But I kept my grip on his arm. My body pivoted over his, using his shoulder as a fulcrum and driving him into the mat. When I finished the move, he was flat on his face and beginning to react. I had his arm locked in a death grip, stretched out practically in my lap. In a flash, I pulled it into a chicken wing and used it for leverage to roll him to his back.

When the ref’s hand hit the mat with a boom, Pete relaxed, knowing he was beaten. Carefully, I extracted my arm from beneath him and then struggled to my knees. As the adrenaline stopped pumping into my bloodstream, I suddenly felt weak. Before I even stood, I reached down to Pete and helped him up. Still on our knees, he shook my hand.

“I didn’t think a guy your size could do a Granby,” he said, panting heavily. “I can’t do one.”

“I didn’t think I could either,” I said with feeling.

✧ ✧ ✧

After the wrestling match, Gina, Lisa, and I headed back to Gina’s house to enjoy the hot tub. The girls invited Heather to join us. We also invited Scott, Shannon, and Mike Gee, but none of them could come. Scott and Shannon had plans with her parents and Mike had to go home and pack; his family was going to Ohio, to visit relatives for the holidays. So it would just be me and the three girls.

Poor me.

At Gina’s house, the girls went upstairs to Gina’s room, ostensibly to change into their bathing suits. A few minutes later, Gina came downstairs with a towel wrapped around her. She grinned when she saw me, then opened the towel to give me a tantalizing glimpse of her body. My eyes automatically dropped to her smooth vulva. Much to my delight, she and Lisa had both kept themselves shaved.

Out of necessity, I had as well. I had started to itch, and shaving eliminated the problem. It was a pain, but Gina and Lisa enjoyed playing with my smooth cock and balls. I only encountered one problem. I hadn’t thought about showering after a wrestling match, and I had to take care not to advertise that I was now completely hairless.

I don’t think anyone noticed, and if they had, they hadn’t said anything. Guys generally don’t look at other guys’ dicks, but someone would have teased me if they’d noticed, so I thought I was safe. But in the future, I decided to keep at least a little pubic hair, no matter what, if only a well-trimmed patch above my dick itself.

“We’re trying to talk Heather into going nude with us,” Gina said, breaking my reverie. “She seemed kinda excited when I told her that if we did, you would too. Do you mind?”

“Who, me? In a hot tub with three nude girls? Not a problem.”

“Well, Lisa and I will probably be nude. But Heather’s still a little shy. She might only go topless.”

“Whatever makes her comfortable,” I said.

She nodded. “She’s got great boobs, doesn’t she?”

“Not as nice as yours,” I said. “I get to touch yours.”

“Mmmmm, yes. And you get to touch Lisa’s.” Then Gina opened her towel and pressed her body against me. When she tilted her head back, I bent down to kiss her. Our kiss heated, and in a moment, she was grinding her hips against me.

“God, you make me so hot,” she said. Then she pulled back, her eyes smoldering. “I’ll go tell Heather. You go ahead and hop in the tub.” With another kiss, she headed back upstairs.

I wasn’t worried about Gina’s parents coming out and catching us unaware. Since Gina and I often went out there, she and her parents had developed a code, of sorts. Before they came out, they’d turn on the porch light. We could see it from the hot tub, so we had time to compose ourselves.

When the girls came out, I was already in the tub, relaxing and letting my muscles un-kink from the tough wrestling match. The girls unwrapped their towels. Gina and Lisa sort of pranced into the tub, clearly for my benefit.

Heather was shy, at first, but quickly relaxed. She did go topless, but steadfastly refused to take off her bottoms. I didn’t mind. I couldn’t see anything but her breasts anyway. But what a view! They were larger than Gina’s, with pink nipples and creamy white skin. They weren’t as big as Kendall’s, but they were firmer.

When Gina slid next to me, I put my arm around her and simply relaxed. I’d had more than enough sex over the past couple of days, so even with three sets of beautiful breasts floating a few feet away, I wasn’t really horny. Below the level of the water, however, Gina slowly stroked me to erection. At the same time, she carried on a conversation with Lisa and Heather.

When Heather shivered and complained that her shoulders were cold, I offered to put my arm around her. She looked uncertainly at Gina. Gina only nodded and said it was nice of me to offer. So Heather slid next to me, her breast touching my side as I draped my arm over her shoulders.

Judging by Heather’s expression, she figured out what Gina was doing with my dick. Lisa certainly knew what was going on; her eyes practically smoldering. Soon enough, Gina worked me to the point of no return. I tensed up when I came, inadvertently letting a soft, low groan escape. Heather was squirming with barely suppressed horniness.

After that, however, we simply relaxed. When we did finally get out of the hot tub, Heather surreptitiously glanced at my dick. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped when she realized I was shaved. Gina grinned broadly when she saw Heather staring. With an almost audible clomp, Heather shut her mouth, blushing.

With the sexual tension in the air, I wanted to take Gina and Lisa upstairs. Unfortunately, I still had to take Heather home. From the looks the other two girls were giving each other, though, I suspected that “Pinky” would be seeing some action as soon as I left.

On the way back to her house, Heather was quiet, but kept stealing glances at me. I smiled and chuckled to myself. By the end of the school year, if Gina wasn’t into the busty blonde’s panties, I’d be surprised. And judging by Heather’s speculative glances, she was definitely interested in me.

✧ ✧ ✧

For the remainder of Lisa’s visit, she, Gina, and I got together as often as we could. Lisa’s lips really were made to give blowjobs, and she quickly got to the point where she could swallow more of me than Gina. Between the two of them, they kept me almost constantly drained.

We also hung out together most of the time, even when we weren’t having sex. It gave me a thrill to know I was fucking Joey Whatshisname’s girlfriend and doing a much better job of it than he’d ever done. Although Joey wasn’t going to be her boyfriend for long. She mentioned that several times, usually when I was thrusting into her.

Eventually, it came time for her to return to Charleston and her family. Two days before Christmas, we took her to the airport and waved as she boarded her flight.

✧ ✧ ✧

For Christmas, Gina’s parents got her a car. It was a yellow ’72 Volkswagen Super Beetle convertible, with a black top. Gina was excited, and called it her “Bumble Bug.” My parents got me a really nice set of chrome weights and bars, complete with a new incline bench and several bench accessories. And for once, I didn’t get many new clothes. I got the obligatory sweaters from my grandparents, but I think even Mom was tired of buying clothing, much to my relief.

After Christmas, the Coulters and my family went on a snow skiing vacation to Salt Lake City. Kara, who was home for the holidays, flew out with us as well. We stayed in a big chalet at one of the ski resorts, Park City.

Dad, Chris, and Elizabeth had skied before, but none of the rest of us had. The first day, all of the non-skiers took lessons. Snow skiing was a blast. I quickly mastered the technique, and was off the beginners’ slopes in a day. I still wasn’t ready for the black diamond trails, but I had a blast speeding down the intermediate slopes. Kara was also a quick learner, and she often skied with me. Gina, Mom, Erin, and Leah stuck mostly to the “bunny slopes,” but they seemed to have fun.

Each night, we ate dinner and then lounged around the chalet or relaxed in its big private hot tub. Gina’s parents and mine talked to the two of us, and agreed that while we still couldn’t participate with them, we didn’t have to leave the room (or the hot tub) when things heated up. Most nights, Erin and Leah went to bed early, so our parents usually fooled around in the hot tub or the large downstairs living room.

Kara was the exception to the rules, since she was both an adult and only a few years older than Gina and me. A couple of nights, Kara joined my parents. Sometimes, she joined Gina and me. A few nights, things were relaxed and casual, with maybe only the women giving blowjobs. Other nights, things really heated up and it seemed like everyone was fucking and sucking someone else.

It was fun, but a little surreal.

Sitting on the edge of the hot tub while my girlfriend gave me a blowjob wasn’t all that unusual. Sitting there while my girlfriend’s father got a blowjob from my mother was a little unusual. And while all that was going on, Elizabeth and Kara were sucking my father, to our right. So it was a lot of fun, but not something I’d have ever imagined would happen to me.

Elizabeth and Mom also seemed to get a thrill out of watching Kara and Gina double-team me. By then, I had let my pubic hair start growing back, but it was still short. Gina had started letting hers grow out as well, although she kept her labia shaved. To my delight, Kara had also adopted the shaved-labia look. With so little pubic hair between the three of us, our parents had a good view as I had sex with the two gorgeous dark-skinned girls.

Dad and Chris certainly seemed to enjoy it when their wives got worked up watching Gina, Kara, and me. Watching our parents have sex was incredibly arousing. Elizabeth and my mom were beautiful women who enjoyed sex, and it was fun watching them take such pleasure in their bodies.

We celebrated New Years Eve at the chalet with champagne, party hats, and noisemakers. When Erin and Leah went to bed, the real party started. I ended up with Gina impaled on my dick while Kara straddled my face. Then they switched places. Finally, I stood up and had them kneel in front of me. I came in Gina’s mouth and then she and Kara shared my come in a kiss. When I looked up, still in an orgasmic daze, our parents applauded quietly.

After that, Gina wanted me to fuck her from behind while she and Kara sixty-nined. When Gina wanted me to fuck her in the ass, Kara quickly got up and ran to her room, returning with her vibrator (the one she’d bought to replace the donated “Pinky”). As I fucked Gina’s tight ass, Kara fucked her younger sister with the vibrator. I could easily feel the vibrations through the thin wall separating Gina’s ass from her pussy, and it quickly drove me over the edge.

At the end of the night—almost three in the morning—I spread Kara’s legs and fucked her slowly. For the past half-hour, she and Gina had been taking turns sucking me, and my balls felt like they were ready to explode. Dad and Chris were worn out by then, so Elizabeth and Mom came over to suck Kara’s nipples. As I thrust into Kara, Gina watched from a few feet away, playing with her pussy as she did.

I stopped two times to let my impending orgasm subside, burying my cock in Kara’s steamy pussy until the feeling passed. For her part, Kara was in heaven, with both her breasts being suckled and her pussy full of my cock. When I was ready to come, I pumped into her with long, deep strokes. But instead of coming inside her, I decided to do something mischievous.

As I felt the come surging up my shaft, I pulled out and hurriedly stroked myself. The first spurt arced out and hit Elizabeth in the cheek. She cried out in surprise as the next spurt splattered over her and Mom. The third spurt also hit both women, but most of it fell short. The next two spurts were weaker, and simply coated Kara from her stomach to her pussy. After that, I squeezed the last few drops onto her mons, where the excess ran down her shaved slit.

Mom and Elizabeth started laughing, teasing each other about the power of young balls. Then, to my delight, they cleaned each other with their fingers, licking my semen off them as they did. Mom hesitated at first, but then Elizabeth wiped up a large drop of semen and held it up to her. She smiled at me as she tasted my semen for the first time in over a year. Then Gina came over and began licking Kara’s breasts, stomach, and pussy. A few minutes later, as Gina licked her clit, Kara came explosively.

For a while, we all lay around and relaxed, sated. Then our parents headed upstairs to their rooms. Gina and I had a room with a queen-sized bed, so Kara asked if she could sleep with us. We readily agreed and then headed upstairs ourselves.

In the morning, I had not one but two horny girls to take care of my hard-on. After I came in Gina’s mouth, I was still hard, so I spread Kara’s legs and eased into her. It took me a long time to build to my climax, but Kara was lost in her own pleasure. Right before I came, I pulled out and quickly straddled her chest. She lifted her head and sucked my dick as I jerked off. With a low groan, I filled her mouth with come. Then the two girls moved into a sixty-nine and licked each other to orgasm.

After breakfast, we had to pack for the flight home. Chris had to go back to work and school started on Wednesday. Park City had a shuttle bus that took us down the canyon and then on to the airport. The flight home was routine, and Gina and I slept through most of it. My Christmas break had been full of fun and sex, but I was ready to get back to school and wrestling.

I guess I needed a vacation from my vacation.

✧ ✧ ✧

When school started after Christmas break, Gina drove us in the Bumble Bug. At school, Shannon gushed over how cute the little Beetle was. Scott gave me a hard time about being chauffeured around by a girl, but I knew he was just teasing.

The Iranians still held the American hostages, but the burning anger had settled to a dull, seething resentment. After my “fight” with Tony Malone, no one bothered Gina or me, which was all I really wanted. I didn’t want to get into another fight, and I certainly didn’t want to be suspended for any more wrestling matches.

When Gina’s parents got her the car, my parents started talking about buying one for me as well. They told me if I got a 3.5 grade point average for the semester—which was a B plus—they’d buy me the used car of my choice. Even though they put some restrictions on the offer (no used Porsche 911 for me), it was still very fair. But it was also going to be tough, especially with my honors classes and wrestling.

The previous semester, I’d gotten a 3.1 average, which was better than a B. Gina had to help me a little with English, but I found that I actually enjoyed it. I liked writing and my vocabulary was improving. I didn’t think I’d ever get to actually use words like perspicacious, recherché, or many others, but at least I knew what they meant.

The rest of my classes were pretty easy, so I wasn’t worried about them. I had a penchant for history, and my Physics class was basically just a lot of math.

I also loved my Art class. I’d probably never be able to draw the human figure or a bowl of fruit, but I could do geometric shapes and architectural-type drawings with ease. I also liked the history of art, and enjoyed learning how the different artists and styles had influenced subsequent generations. Never in a million years did I imagine that Art class would be an easy A, but it was.

As the semester progressed, I spent most of my spare time either at wrestling practice or doing homework. Gina and I often studied together, and she was extremely serious about her schoolwork. Generally, whenever we did our homework together, we’d fool around beforehand and then get to work.

I wrote to Kendall as often as I could, and talked to her on the phone whenever I had the chance. She was still lonely, but she was beginning to make some close friends. Her roommate and suitemates had basically adopted her; they took her to parties and introduced her to their friends. I was happy that she had people to spend time with, but I know she still missed me.

✧ ✧ ✧

Ever since the Coulters moved to Atlanta, they had been searching for a home to buy. They expanded their search to include the entire school district, but nothing appealed to them. Finally, at the end of January, they found something they liked.

It was a vacant lot in a new subdivision. Actually, it was two vacant lots, both at the end of a cul-de-sac. They quickly bought both of them. At the same time, they talked to the man who owned the property behind theirs. When the negotiations were complete, the Coulters owned the two half-acre lots and the three acres of forest directly behind them.

Chris and Elizabeth began interviewing architects, and finally settled on a man named Steve Easterbrook. The first time I met him, I thought he was incredibly cool. I was studying at Gina’s house when he pulled up in a big Chevy Blazer. He looked like an upscale construction worker, wearing jeans, work boots, a comfortable sweater, and a leather jacket.

When Gina went downstairs, she tugged me with her. Chris introduced Steve to Gina, Leah, and me. Then we sat around their big dining room table. Steve laid out site surveys to show potential house placement. Then he began flipping through his large sketchbook, showing Chris and Elizabeth some of his concept ideas.

Both of them liked a style he called “Jeffersonian,” and he made a note on his pad. Then he started asking them questions about the house they envisioned. They wanted two stories, with the master bedroom on the main level and three bedrooms upstairs. They wanted at least three full baths and perhaps a half-bath near the kitchen. They also wanted a large kitchen, a living room, an entertainment room, a downstairs office/study, and a three-car garage (with a bonus room above it).

Steve made notes as Chris and Elizabeth thought out loud. Gina and Leah added their comments, and he noted them as well. The family also wanted an in-ground pool and a large hot tub. Finally, Chris mentioned that he wanted a two-bedroom poolhouse/guesthouse.

Once Steve finished writing down their ideas, he spent a few minutes making some quick sketches. Then he flipped to a clean sheet in his sketchbook and started drawing. I was amazed. In less than fifteen minutes, he sketched the front of the house, with graceful columns, large windows, and two wings spreading from the central structure. With input from the Coulters, he altered things slightly to suit them.

Then he flipped to another page and began sketching out the interior. In another fifteen minutes, he roughed out the basics of the layout. Once again, the Coulters made suggestions, which he duly noted on his pad. I mostly kept my mouth shut, simply gawking as he effortlessly laid out the house plan.

By the time I looked at my watch, we’d been sitting there for two hours. It seemed like only twenty minutes had passed. I should have been home a half-hour earlier, so I got Gina’s attention and pointed to my watch. The entire drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the architect, and how easily he made the house come to life.

As I lay awake that night, unable to sleep, I kept thinking about Steve Easterbrook. He owned his own company. He got to work outdoors, but he got to work with clients as well. And he got to design, no create, beautiful houses. In that moment, I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

I know it probably sounds very “Brady,” but I wanted to be an architect.

For the next two weeks, the design of the new house progressed. Every time Steve visited the Coulters, I made sure I was there. Gradually, the house took shape as he refined his sketches and began creating actual design drawings. Then he created watercolor drawings of the house from different angles, with landscaping and other details.

In Art class, I found myself doodling house designs and trying to duplicate Steve’s effortless style. I discovered that looking effortless takes a lot of effort. My drawings were crude and plain, but I kept at it.

I checked out books on architecture from the school library. I read up on Thomas Jefferson and the architectural style he inspired. I began to see all the little things that made the Coulters’ new house Jeffersonian: the portico and pediment (I had to learn what those words meant); the slender columns; the simple, classical moldings around the windows and doors; even the arched window in the pediment. I marveled at how such small details came together to create a magnificent whole.

By the time the Coulters went over the final drawings and plans, I think I was as excited as they were. I wanted to see the house come to life. I could already imagine what it would look like. The night after I saw the final plans, I lay awake in bed, taking a mental tour of their new house. In my mind, I could walk from room to room and envision it.

I was also excited because I finally felt like I had some direction in my life. I was doing well in school. I had finished the wrestling season with an 11–2 record (since I’d been suspended, I had missed two matches), and I was going to compete in the regional tournament. Gina and I were getting along great, and Kendall and I talked on the phone almost weekly.

All in all, my life was going pretty well.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the regional tournament, I advanced to the finals, where I had to wrestle Pete Yeager. Whoever won the match would go on to the state tournament in Macon. He grinned good-naturedly as we shook hands. Though he was from our rival high school, I was growing to like him. He had none of the arrogance of Emmett Carstairs (the pathetic prick). Emmett was actually wrestling JV for Pete’s school, because Pete was a better wrestler. I got the feeling that win or lose, Pete was looking forward to wrestling me.

“No Granby this time,” he said.

“I dunno, Yeager. It worked last time.”

“Last time, I didn’t think you could pull it off. This time, I know better.”

“This time, I’ve got a few other tricks to show you,” I said with a grin.

“We’ll see,” he replied. “Anyway, good luck, Hughes.”

“You too.”

“Are you gentlemen ready?” the referee asked.

“Yes, sir,” we both answered.

With a final shared grin, we put on our “match faces” and squared off. As soon as the ref blew the whistle, Pete lunged at me, trying for a quick takedown. He knew I wasn’t going to lock up with him, so he simply decided to try and drop me quickly. I was too fast for him and sprawled, shoving him to the mat before me and then landing on top of him.

For the first round, I was mostly in control, fighting hard to keep him from escaping or reversing on me. But I never could get enough leverage to overmatch his strength. When the round ended, we separated, breathing hard.

For the beginning of the second round, I started down. I surprised him and quickly escaped, rolling out of the ring in the process. The ref stood us both up and we squared off. I locked up with Pete, hoping to let him get overconfident and make a mistake. He was stronger than me, but I held my own against him. Then he made the mistake of trying an overhook and I took him down with a fireman’s carry. Unfortunately, he quickly reversed on me and put me on the defensive. By the time the round ended, I wasn’t exactly fighting for my life, but I was definitely working hard.

We started the third round with Pete down. As soon as the whistle blew, he did a sit-out and I didn’t counter fast enough. Instead of letting him reverse on me and gain control, I pushed him away. He got the escape points and we both lumbered to our feet. Then we locked up. I was surprised that either of us had as much energy as we threw into the lock-up, but we were both straining hard. When I tried to duck under, he went for a body lock.

I knew the perfect counter: a Farside Metzger. I caught my balance, circled Pete’s head with my left hand, and reached for his inner thigh with my right hand. I stepped to the left—blocking his right leg with my left—so he couldn’t adjust his balance when I threw the Metzger. Then I heaved, pulling his head to my left and lifting his leg. As he came up, I fell back, twisting as I did and continuing the motion I’d started when I pulled his head. He flew into the air and landed on his back with a resounding thud. Unfortunately, he quickly flipped to his stomach.

In the end, I made one mistake. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. I got sloppy trying to prevent an escape and we rolled out of the ring. He got the point for the escape and the ref restarted us both up.

Then Pete caught me with a simple double underhook takedown, which brought him within one point of me. As long as I could hold him off, I’d win on points. But he was still stronger than me, and that strength paid off. He scored a two-point near-fall, but I bridged out. If I could escape, I’d tie the match.

I couldn’t. Pete’s strength was too much.

When the buzzer sounded, ending the match, I sagged to the mat.

Pete had won, 11–10.

Before I could even lift my head, he pulled me to my feet, grunting as he did.

“Good God, Hughes,” he gasped. “Why you gotta make each match a fight to the death?”

When I looked up, he was grinning from ear to ear. It wasn’t a smug grin though. It was bemused, a little bit surprised, and a lot tired.

“If you get even a little stronger,” he said, his chest heaving, “I’m screwed.” Then he shook his head. “Damn. I can hardly stand up.”

“Good match, gentlemen,” the ref said. “Congratulations, son,” he said to Pete. Then he turned us toward the crowd and lifted Pete’s arm into the air.

Afterward, I shook Pete’s hand again. “Good match, man,” I said.

“Talk to me when I recover,” he said with a grin. “Good move with that Metzger.”

I merely shrugged.

“I didn’t even think of it when I went for the body lock.”

“Yeah,” I said with a grin as we walked off the mat, “I wish I had a picture of you flying through the air.” Then I paused, turned to him, and held out my hand. “Good luck at the state tournament.”

“Thanks, man,” he said, gripping my hand. “I think I’m gonna need it.”

Pete ended up making it to the state finals, where he lost to a wrestler from Savannah. Pete fought hard, but he ended up getting pinned early in the third round. So even though I placed second in the regionals, I had the (small) satisfaction of losing to the number two guy in the state.

To no one’s surprise, Mike was the 167-pound state champion. Scott had also lost in the regionals, but Doc had made it to the state tournament. In the quarterfinals, he was beaten by a wrestler who was twenty pounds lighter but almost as strong. The other guy was simply too fast and too good for Doc, who ended up placing seventh in the heavyweight division.

For the off-season, I vowed to work even harder on my strength training. Pete was right; if I were just a little stronger, I think he’d be outmatched. And I was determined to see that happen.

✧ ✧ ✧

Kendall’s eighteenth birthday was on February 23rd. Since it was on a Saturday, I arranged a surprise for her. I talked to my parents, and they agreed to let me fly to Knoxville and return on Sunday. The only stipulation they made was that I had to finish all of my homework before I left. Gina wanted to go too, but she had a Latin project due the following Monday. Her entire project group would be at her house both Saturday and Sunday.

I called Kendall’s room when I knew she’d be in class, and talked to her roommate. Abby and I worked things out to make sure Kendall spent Saturday morning away from her room. Since I was coming into town, Abby planned to spend the weekend at home, so Kendall and I would have their room to ourselves.

On Saturday morning, Mom took me to the airport. Kendall’s suitemate Bridget picked me up at the Knoxville airport when I arrived.

“Wow,” she said. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I gotta wear a coat and tie when I fly.”


“’Cause my dad works for the airline, and we get to fly for free. But since we’re ‘representing the company,’ we need to dress up.”

“Oh. Cool.”

On the drive back to campus—the airport was in another county entirely—Bridget subtly quizzed me.

“Are you really still in high school?” she asked.


“Gosh, most of the guys I went to high school with were dorks.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m just grown-up for my age.”

“I mean, even my boyfriend acts like a jerk sometimes. And he’s a junior.”

I nodded sagely and said a silent “thank you” to Susan and my parents.

“Kendall’s always talking about you,” she said. “She gets really homesick sometimes, but we can always tell when she gets one of your letters.”


“Yeah,” she said, “she gets all cheerful and stuff.”

“Cool. I feel the same way about her.”

“That’s so cool. All of us think it’s really wonderful what you’re doing for her. Flying up and bringing roses. And spending the night. That’s so romantic.” Then she frowned. “I wish my boyfriend did stuff like that.”

“Speaking of which,” I said. “I need to stop and pick up the roses. They’re at… um… Couch florist?”

“Crouch,” she corrected. “Yeah, it’s right on the Strip.”

The rest of the way to campus, we talked about UT. Bridget and her roommate, Toni, were in a sorority, Delta Delta Delta (the Tri-Delts). They both really liked it, and had tried to talk Kendall into pledging, but she hadn’t been interested in joining. I heard all about their winter formal dance and Greek Week.

By the time we got to the florist, I understood why Kendall didn’t want to join a sorority. Bridget wasn’t shallow, not by any means, but she and Kendall were very different people. After we picked up the dozen red roses, Bridget drove us to the dorm.

She parked in a side lot and we headed toward the building. I thought I looked incongruous, wearing a coat and tie, carrying a dozen roses, with a backpack slung over my shoulder. But as I looked around, I realized that I could’ve been a normal college student, except for the coat and tie. And the roses.

Bridget escorted me upstairs and we entered the suite through her room. Toni was waiting for us, and she grinned when she saw the flowers. Both girls said I looked good in my coat and tie, so I didn’t take them off. Then I waited for Kendall to return.

When the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Bridget dashed to answer it. She nodded once, twice, and then grinned.

“She’s coming,” she said.

I stood waiting, hoping Kendall would be happy to see me. When the door opened, I tensed up, suddenly nervous.

“—I don’t see why we had to stay there,” Kendall was saying to Abby. “We could’ve come back here with… the… book…”

“Happy birthday,” I said simply.

She raced into my arms, and I nearly fell over backward from the impact. I almost lost my grip on the roses, too. But I held on to them, and with one arm around Kendall’s waist, I lifted her off her feet as she kissed me soundly. When I set her down, Abby, Toni, and Bridget clapped and cheered.

“You all,” Kendall said, blushing. Then she looked at Abby. “So that’s why you kept me at the library all morning.”

“Mmm hmm,” Abby said, beaming.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I said, handing Kendall the roses.

“Oh, Paul, they’re beautiful.”

“Come on, girls,” Abby said. “It’s time for us to go.”

“Just a minute,” Kendall told me shyly. When I nodded, she slipped out of my arms and hugged the three other girls, one by one. Then she sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “Oh, bless your hearts,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna spend the night with my parents tonight,” Abby said. “Will y’all be okay here? Alone?”

Kendall nodded, smiling tearfully.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Toni said with a playful grin.

Then Abby chivvied the girls into the other side of the suite, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

“How long can you stay?” Kendall asked tentatively.

“My flight leaves at 4:35 tomorrow,” I said.

“So you can spend the night?” she asked, her eyes twinkling hopefully.

I nodded.

“Oh, Paul,” she said, hugging me tight. “This is the best birthday present ever. Thank you so much.”

“I’ve got more,” I said. “I—”

“I don’t care what else there is,” she said, sniffling again. “Having you here is enough. Oh, I love you so much.”

“And I love you.” Then I pulled her toward me and tilted my head to the side. Our lips met and she pressed her body against mine. Then she pulled back suddenly.

“Oh, no,” she said.


“I…” When she glanced at me, she looked abashed.

“What is it?”

“I… I’m a mess. I haven’t taken a shower today, I haven’t shaved… um… down there in a week, I…”

“Shhhhh,” I whispered. “You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful. And we can take a shower together. Besides, I can’t wait to get out of this coat and tie.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she said suddenly. “I didn’t even pay attention.” Then she stepped back a little. “Wow, you look so handsome.”

“Thanks, but this collar is killing me.”

With a grin, she kissed me tenderly and then loosened my tie. Then she deftly unbuttoned my collar. From beneath lowered lashes, she glanced at me.

“Does your mom do that for your dad?” I asked quietly.

She moistened her lips and then nodded.

“I like it when you do it for me.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

I simply held her for a while, delighting in the feel of her body next to mine.

She put her arms around my body, inside my coat. Then she pulled back and grinned at me.

“Are you ready for a shower?” I asked.

She nodded and then smiled at me, her tears already drying. “I want to see your new, ahem, hairstyle,” she said with a mischievous grin.

She knew about my shaved pubic hair, but she hadn’t seen it yet. I wasn’t as bare as I’d been when Gina and Lisa first shaved me, but I was still pretty smooth. I had finally settled on a simple patch of hair above my dick. I only shaved the base of my shaft, my balls, and the area immediately behind them. Gina liked the feeling of my smooth cock and balls, but she also liked how the patch of pubic hair tickled her face when she nuzzled me.

In the shower, Kendall was just as appreciative. It wasn’t a large stall, so we had to press close together, but neither of us minded. I washed her hair, gently massaging her scalp while she moaned in appreciation. Then she shaved her legs and underarms. Finally, she leaned against one wall and propped her foot on the other, stabilizing herself so she could spread her pussy. When we were done, we shut off the water and reached for our towels.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed. Sometime before dinner, I gave her the rest of her gifts. Gina and I had gotten her a silver ring, with “P-G-K ’80” engraved inside the band. It was a little too big for her finger, but that didn’t stop her from wearing it. I told her we could have it sized, but she wasn’t ready to let go of it yet.

I also got her a white silk robe and negligee set. The nightgown was very short, and the silk was so fine that it was almost sheer. When she put it on, it left just enough to the imagination. Needless to say, my jaw fell open. When she put on the thigh-length robe, it hugged her curves and looked incredibly sexy.

Before she could thank me properly, the phone rang. It was her parents, calling to wish her a happy birthday. She talked to them for about ten minutes, never mentioning that I was there. When she hung up, she gave me a sultry look, opened the robe, and pushed me back onto the bed.

That night, I took her to dinner at a restaurant on the Strip (the main road with all the bars, restaurants, and stores). We had a really good time, and ended up walking back to her dorm arm in arm. In her suite, we spent some time with Bridget and Toni. Kendall showed them her presents and they cooed appreciatively.

Around nine, Gina called to wish Kendall a happy birthday. Kendall thanked her for the ring, but didn’t mention the negligee set. (I hadn’t told Gina about it, since I didn’t want her to feel like she also had to get Kendall a personal gift.) The two girls talked for a few minutes and then hung up.

We stayed up talking with Bridget and Toni until almost midnight. Both of them said we made a cute couple. And it made me feel grown-up to sit on Toni’s bed—with my arm around Kendall—and talk about college. Then, with a bashful grin, Kendall tugged me back toward her room. Bridget and Toni teased us, but I could tell that they were happy for Kendall.

The next day, Kendall’s suitemates drove us back to the airport. They walked me to the gate, where I checked in with the gate agent. She had my name on the stand-by list and I showed her my dependent ID. Then she looked up at the three girls, who were standing about ten feet behind me.

“Which one’s your girlfriend?” the agent asked. Then she smiled and held up her hand to forestall my answer. “Let me guess,” she said. “The tall, distraught-looking brunette.”

I looked over my shoulder and followed her gaze. Then I turned back and nodded.

“She’s very beautiful,” she said.

“Um… thanks. I think so too.”

“If you’re leaving your girlfriend,” the agent said with a smile, “then I think the least we could do is upgrade you to first class. If you have to be unhappy, then at least you’ll be comfortable.”


“You’re welcome.” Then she handed me my boarding pass. “We’ll be boarding in about an hour.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I sat down and put my arm around Kendall. She wasn’t very talkative, so Bridget, Toni, and I ended up carrying the conversation. They told me all about Knoxville, and the cool things to do in town. They also talked about UT and their sorority. The plane arrived and disgorged its load of passengers, which only made Kendall hug me tighter.

Because I was flying stand-by, I had to board last. But that actually turned out to be a benefit, because I got to spend an extra few minutes with Kendall. At the gate, she kissed me goodbye, her body pressed against mine. I didn’t want to let her go and I knew she felt the same way, but I had to board the plane. With a final kiss, I turned and handed my pass to the gate agent. I waved to Kendall one last time and then continued down the jetway.

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