"You look awesome in that bikini, Addison."
"Thanks." She looked over her shoulder to see Eric behind her. He had been a star athlete at her high school before getting a scholarship at the state university she was going to attend in the fall. He was probably twenty, two years older than her.
"Lots of guys at school are going to be very happy to see you," he said, grabbing a snack from the same bowl she had her hand in.
"Maybe it's the girls I want to impress."
Eric did not conceal his inspection of Addison's gorgeous body from the blonde hair to the bare feet. "Oh, that would be a shame."
She moved to the other end of the long table of food set up in the dining room of a friend who was having a swimming party for all the people from her high school who attended the local university. Eric followed her.
"So you don't think I'll have any trouble getting dates?" she asked.
"Addison, just walk to your first class and you'll have a full calendar."
"Maybe I'll run into YOU."
As soon as she said it, she let her hip bump into him. She glanced down at his swimming trunks and said, "Oh, sorry."
He watched her eyes move from his crotch back up to his face, a faint smile across her lips.
They were done eating, and Addison turned the corner of the dining room and started down the long hallway that led to the patio and pool.
Eric moved beside her at the first door they came to and knocked into her just enough to make her stagger into the doorway of an empty bedroom.
"Oh, sorry," he said almost sarcastically as his weight against her forced them past the door. He quickly flung it closed.
He hovered over her, his body pressing her back against the wall. He leaned forward and their mouths met. In the first instant of the kiss, Addison muttered her disapproval, but the kiss continued. Their tongues came together and the meaning of Addison's moans could not be discerned.
She pushed against him with her hands, but not nearly hard enough to force him back. Eric ignored her efforts, kissed her harder and ran his hands up and down the side of her body. They came to rest on the outside of her bikini top.
He felt the fullness of her breasts and squeezed them together. Eric's palms slid over so they were on her skin. He spread his fingers and engulfed her tits in his hands.
"Eric. No," Addison managed to say. Eric covered her mouth with his and continued massaging her tits.
Their bodies pressed harder together, and she felt his cock on her lower abdomen. Addison pounded her fists against his muscular upper arms.
Eric used his thumbs to pull aside her bikini straps. They fell down her arms to her elbows. Immediately, his mouth dropped to the top of her partially exposed breasts. He kissed her flesh and ran his tongue up the valley between her tits.
Addison was defenseless against the powerful young man. She was defenseless against his mouth moving lower and lower until, finally, his lips touched her nipple. He pulled the bikini completely off her left breast and surrounded the end of it with his mouth. He began to suck and lick on it vigorously.
"No! Stop!"
Eric grabbed her wrists. He moved her hands to his crotch and placed them directly on his erection. When he let go, Addison let the hands linger, her upper body writhing under the effects of his manipulation of her breast.
He bared both breasts and sucked on them. Addison felt his hands on her ass, and then inside the back of her bikini bottom.
Only when his hand moved to her pussy did she find the power to respond.
Addison pushed against him violently, grunted loudly, and flung a knee upward.
Her bikini was nearly back in place when she re-entered the hallway.
###
"Addison, the last time we met you said you were going to, in your own words, 'fuck every guy in town' this summer. How's that coming along?" the psychiatrist asked.
"I'm only about one third of the way there. But it's just the beginning of August. I have time."
Michelle looked at her eighteen year old patient and waited for more. Addison shrugged, frowned, and motioned with her hands as if to say 'What more do you want?'
"Why do you feel as if you HAVE to, uh, have sex with every guy in town?"
"Isn't that what somebody who looks like me is supposed to do?" Addison asked.
Michelle thought back to the very first time she saw Addison, almost a year earlier. The girl stunned Michelle with her incredible beauty. Blonde hair; green eyes; luscious lips; long legs; and, curves that would make an hourglass jealous.
Addison's problem was not superficial. Her problem was a depression that Michelle was trying to get to the root of. Along the way, patient and psychiatrist had discovered a lot about each other.
"Somebody who looks like you, Addison, should have their pick of partners."
The beautiful teenager stared at Michelle, looked out the office window for a moment, and then buried her head in her hands and began to cry. Lots of people cried during Michelle's sessions. It was part of the job. But Addison was not her normal patient. They had become very close, to say the least.
Michelle fought the urge to get up and comfort the teenager. She would let her shed the tears and then dig for an answer.
A series of loud sobs subsided to irregular outbursts and sniffles. And then Addison was back in control.
"Oh Michelle," Addison managed to say. "You know that's true. And I know that's true."
She paused to wipe away some tears. "So why?"
"Why what, Addison?"
Addison threw her head against the back of the overstuffed chair she occupied. She flung a leg across the chair's arm. She stared at the ceiling.
"Why am I so lonely?"
Michelle typed away on her laptop, looking up to watch Addison's movements.
"Lonely in what way?"
Between more sniffles, Addison said, "You think I should have a line of guys at my door. Everybody thinks that. Well, I don't!"
Michelle would let her go on by herself, no matter how long the wait.
"I've lied to you about anything having to do with my dating. I don't date guys. I don't...I don't want them to find out...find out that I...I..."
The girl broke down into wails again, her hands covering her eyes.
This time Michelle had to force the ending. When the crying quieted a bit, she asked, "Find out what, Addison?"
In a barely audible, broken voice, Addison said, "That I've never had real sex with anybody."
Michelle had expected worse. THIS she could deal with. In her ten years or so as a psychiatrist, dealing mostly with young people, this was not an uncommon situation. But an eighteen year old beauty like Addison was held to different standards, at least in most people's minds.
"What's so horrible about that, Addison? I think you're to be commended."
The statement calmed Addison enough for them to hold somewhat of a regular conversation again.
"Maybe. But I want, I mean, I don't want to be thirty and still waiting to have sex with a guy," Addison said.
Thirty five year old Michelle smiled to herself at the inference that thirty was old, bordering on dead.
"What DO you want?"
"I don't want the first guy to hurt me."
Michelle took notes. "What do you want?" she repeated.