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A short little vignette, inspired by an actual event. Enjoy.
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Shot down again.
Things were definitely not going my way. Since the last Christmas Party, I'd dated four different girls, two from work, two setup by friends, and with the latest brush-off I was 0-4. I was beginning to forget what real sex was like.
I'd never had that much trouble, but my new job with its clearances and classified projects had me working under situations anything BUT conducive to romantic efforts. Endless overtime hours, long, sudden work trips, to places you can't talk about, and the effort to keep up with an extremely dynamic and dangerous situation left me little time for lovin'.
Don't get me wrong. I absolutely LOVE my job. How many jobs are there where you can really feel you are making a difference? But I needed more than work. Hell, I was only 24; I should be out sowing my oats. Not hiding away in a huge vault.
My friends were doing their best. My buddy Mark, who'd I'd known for years had twice now tried to hook me up. The first was an absolute disaster, but his wife Janet's latest friend had seemed like she might actually work out. She was very young; it's true. Just 18 and barely out of high-school, she was pretty, friendly, and we'd actually managed to go out for over 8 weeks.
But the damned girl's legs seemed to be super-glued together. It had taken four weeks just to get inside her shirt, and after six weeks, I'd gotten my rocks off for the first time in a long time through someone else's effort. But my pressure to get to the next phase in our relationship seemed to have backfired, and I felt I was on the verge of getting my walking papers.
On the other hand, a guy with a good stable job, little time for hobbies, and no love life to speak of, has other things he can do. In my case, I'd finally gotten fed up with renting a room in somebody else's house, and had made the move to buy my own place. Tiny and decrepit it may have been, but it was going to be mine.
I headed over to Mark & Janet's place, looking to cry in my beer with at least a little sympathy, and share the news about my new digs. I had to tell someone. They were my best friends, lived a little more than a mile away, and always had a well-stocked beer frig.
Janet met me at the door and greeted me with a hug and an unexpected kiss on the lips. I could taste the alcohol on her breath, and I could tell she and Mark had probably had a couple of beers beside the pool. They had just opened it for the spring. I had shared more than a few of those beers with them on past pool weekends.
"Mark's downstairs, you know the way." She turned me in the general direction, with a pat on the rear to get me going.
I looked up from the entrance pad of their split level, as she headed back to the kitchen. It appeared that she and the girls were doing a little baking, from the ruckus I heard above, and from the smell wafting down the stairs. Her bikini was hanging out to dry on the stair rail, confirming my guess about the pool.
She looked good, as she usually did, sauntering up the stairs. She was wearing an over-sized T-shirt that came halfway down her thighs, and unless my guess was wrong, not much else. She knew I was watching her every step, and gave her ass a little wiggle at the top of the steps.
I often teased her about how hot she was. We had joked more than once about how if anything ever happened to Mark, I'd be responsible for taking care of her and the kids. With a dozen beers in me I'd told her I was looking forward to taking care of her - she'd walk bow-legged for a month. The sight of her in that over-sized tee was even more exciting than usual, with my current batting streak. It was almost sheer against the light pouring in from above, and I felt a very inappropriate response down below.
Mark was in the rec room watching TV. "What's up, bud?" he asked as I appeared on the stairs. His outfit, boxers and a bathrobe, had me guessing they'd just gotten back inside.
I didn't want to jump into my latest sob story, so I started with the only good news. He'd known I was looking at the place, and was concerned with my purchasing a fixer-upper, but the price was certainly right, and I did have a lot of free time.
"That's cool. You know you can count on me for help, as long as I don't have to actually do anything," he grinned. "And of course, any tools you need, you can help yourself too. It's a big step. Shall we celebrate - you want a beer?" I knew from past experience that meant a Bud long-neck.
"Sure, that'd be great."
"JANET - COME HERE WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE, AND BRING BEER!" he shouted up the stairs.
I could only laugh.
A short while later she was coming down the stairs and the girls were traipsing behind her, each carrying an open bottle.
The little one, Julie, brought me mine, and I listened to their busy little day, which included heading out with the neighbor's kids to catch the latest Disney release. Janet ran them next store, and joined us downstairs a few minutes later, working on her own beer. My earlier observations were confirmed - the girl was definitely tipsy.
She dropped in the chair opposite us, and crossed her legs under herself, indian-style. Her T-shirt crawled up her thighs, and I got a pretty solid confirmation that I was right. She was wearing nothing under that tee. Catching me in my appreciative stare, she gave me a strange little look, almost questioning, and then pulled her shirt out and over her knees, making a big tent out of the front.
"So?" she asked.
"He did it." Mark told her.
"WHAT? Don't tell me you finally scored with Lori!" she almost shouted, hopping up on her knees. Her shirt pulled off her knees and snapped back almost up to her waist, before settling down over her legs. Yep. No underwear, and she had shaved her bikini line recently. The image was burned in my mind, like spots after looking at the sun.
I was so hard it almost hurt. I placed a pillow in my lap, trying to conceal the evidence. Subtle. "No, that's turning out to be mission impossible, although I did get inside her shirt finally. How does a girl these days get out of high-school with her cherry intact, looking like that?"
Janet answered that one. "Too many activities, no time for dating. Morning ice skating, school all day, afternoon gymnastics, skating at night. I don't know how she did it all those years. She still skates at least an hour a day."
"He bought that old dump he's been looking at." Mark interjected, getting the discussion back on subject.
"That's great, Alex! Welcome to the brotherhood of home owners. Finally, a place of your own. That might help with your other little problem as well!" she enthused, getting off the chair and settling down in my lap after tossing the pillow aside. One knee to the outside of each of my thighs, straddling me, my imagination went wild over the thought of her bare pussy pressed against my crotch. "You deserve a real congratulation for this big step!" She put her arms around my neck, and gave me a big sloppy kiss. I mean a really big kiss. The biggest she had ever given me. And right there in front of Mark.
We would often kiss hello and goodbye, and every now and then the kisses would be a little more than I would expect, a little lingering, a darting tongue, but not like this. Her eyes were closed, she was pressing her chest against mine, and her tongue was halfway down my throat. A few seconds into the action, she was shifting in my lap, her t-shirt gathered around her, rubbing her bare pussy up and down the length of my hard-on.
