Please read this series of stories in order for character development and continuity.
The ending of Part 1:
We got out of the car and walked the girls to the door. As we were going up the stairs, I stopped and said, "You know, there are a lot of things we didn't...."
"Yeah," she said quickly, "I want to do all of them with you. I want to feel everything. I want to make love with you. I have a feeling this is going to be a great summer."
Part 2:
I hesitated. Looking carefully into my eyes, she asked "You are okay with that, with what we..."
"Uh, yea, I want to do all that too. I'm looking forward to seeing a lot more of you. Oh Jeez, bad pun- I'm sorry."
Lisa giggled. "I was just thinking that I don't have your phone number or even know where you live," I observed.
"Oh, I live at the end of the next street on the left- that way. Our house is on the right side of the cul-de-sac. It's got brick down low, and the rest is painted kind of a dark orange color with white trim."
"Our phone number is 4611." Back then, in small towns, everybody had the same area code and the first 3 digits of their number so you could actually dial a neighbor with just the last 4 digits.
"That's kinda weird, ours is 4614." I said.
I saw her eyebrows shoot up. "That should be easy to remember."
Lisa looked down at her hands and said, "What are you doing Sunday afternoon?
My folks will be at my grandparent's house in Norwood for a barbeque." Looking up she added, "I could say I was too busy and stay home."
"I could probably get there around 3-ish."
"Great, I want to show you something."
It was my turn for upturned eyebrows. "No, not that- well maybe- if you're lucky," she clarified.
We both looked up the stairs toward the house as Carla said, "Guys, it's been fun, but my folks could be back at any time. Wrap it up Lisa."
"It's a date," I said just before giving her another deep but gentle, unhurried kiss. It felt so good.
In the car, my first comment was, "Well, that seemed to have gone well for us all."
"Jesus, Carla is hot," Bert started, "We couldn't get enough of each other. She suggested we come over to her house for a pool party next Saturday."
"I've got swim practice in the morning, but I could probably get away."
"Wow did that just happen?" he asked, shaking his head. "Lisa looked pretty happy before we left too."
"We've got a date Sunday afternoon."
"Good for you. We've got nothing up until next weekend."
We said our goodbyes at the curb, and I walked up the driveway to the house. My mom was still up, sitting on the couch reading a book. "Good movie?" she asked.
"It was okay," I answered and, to deflect the question, I added "I like Bert. We've never really hung out before, but he's recently joined the Bridge group and I've played with him several times." In my defense, all of that was true.
A few of the students, including myself, had started playing Bridge during lunch and study halls, and just about any free time we had. At first there were 4 of us, then 8. We each had learned it from our parents or grandparents at some point.
Some of the other students saw us having fun and joined in. There were always lessons for those who wanted to learn. Eventually, we would have 10 or so games going on most of the time. The school administrators couldn't figure out how to respond. On the one hand the kids were all playing cards at school- and that couldn't be good- but on the other hand, it WAS Bridge- a very socially acceptable game. In the end, the principal decided it was good for our brains and left us alone.
A couple of the teachers even joined in occasionally.
My mom said, "That's good dear. I like it when you make new friends. I'm going to bed here in a minute, but I want to finish this chapter first. Good night."
On the way up the stairs, I went over tonight's events in my mind. I sniffed my fingers and my cock started tingling and feeling heavier in my shorts. I closed my bedroom door, stripped off my clothes- all of them- and started fondling my stuff. I cupped my balls and stroked my shaft and thought of the sliding my finger in and out of Lisa's pussy as she stroked my cock with her lips. All I could dimly see was the back of her head, but my imagination was working overtime filling in the rest.
"That's probably why they call it head", I observed silently. She had given me my first blowjob, and she had wanted to do it.