Sitting in the cafeteria that Monday afternoon, smiling dreamily over my pork turnover and mashed potatoes, I noticed that my friends were staring at me. "Dan, what's wrong with you?" my buddy Chris asked. "The whole week you've looked...I don't know..."
"Happy," Vince said.
"Yeah, happy. What the hell do you have to be happy about?"
What indeed? I forked potatoes into my mouth and displayed my Cheshire cat grin. Of course I couldn't tell them about Elaine, about the wonderful woman who had spent the last week tying my into the most delicious knots imaginable. I mean that almost literally-the four times I'd gone to visit her the past week I'd spent most of the time strapped to the bed in what she called her "Fun Room", with my legs over my head and my cock in my mouth and Elaine doing all sorts of slippery things to my ass.
I'd discovered the cure for teenage angst-regular, no-strings-attached sexplay. I would drive to Elaine's house with an erection and swollen testicles and leave covered in sweat and walking on air. I wasn't as consumed with thoughts of sex because I knew that I would actually HAVE a woman touching my cock in the near future, unlike my miserable, frustrated buddies.
So as my friends and I left the cafeteria I held my head high, my stride was confident and full of purpose. I was on cloud nine, knowing that in a few hours I would be at Elaine's house and her tongue would be rimming my anus while I sucked myself off. Had I known at the time what awaited me there, and in my near-future, I wouldn't have been so cocksure. I was about to learn that there are always strings attached with sex, of one sort or another.
But that was later. For now I was feeling pretty good about myself. So when I turned the corner and crashed into Bridget Landau, my reaction was different than it once might have been. Before I would have blushed crimson and stuttered and sputtered apologies, too intimidated to make eye contact and too horny to keep from staring at her breasts.
But that was before. Now, I gently took her shoulder to steady her and I said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you OK?"
"Watch where you're going, fuckwad!" she spat, giving me a look that made my three buddies shrink back like she was the Gorgon herself.
"You're right, my mistake," I said, suavely ignoring the fact that it was her fault. "My mistake. Here," I knelt to pick up the cell phone she'd been talking into when she blundered into me.
"If it's broken, you're buying me a new one, asshole." Her friends stared me down, waiting for me to wilt.
But I was imperturbable. I handed over the phone with a smile. "It looks fine." She grabbed it out of my hand. "Asshole," she said, walking by me without another glance. Her bitches-in-waiting trailed behind, each giving me a dirty look. The smile never left my lips.
"Jesus Christ," Vince said, "I about shit my pants."
"Why?" I asked.
"Why? That was...Bridget Landau!" He spoke her name as if he feared it would bring a curse down upon him.
That may seem to be the overdramatics of a teen-age boy, but I should explain about the aforementioned Bridget. When I say that she was the prettiest girl in the school, I'm not saying anything. There are girls all over the country who are the prettiest in their schools. But compared to Bridget Landau, they're all plow horses. Bridget was absurdly gorgeous. There was no reason for a girl to be so beautiful, sexy, juicy, all-out delectable. Her hair was of the golden sunset, her eyes blue as the sapphire. Her breasts floated like twin scoops of meringue, her legs and ass so wonderfully sculpted that it was as though God had chained Michelangelo to a block of marble and given the instruction, "Make it perfect!", then used the finished product as her template. She was, I mean to say, HOT.
She was also a colossal bitch, a girl who could give lessons in haughtiness to Anna Kournikova. She terrorized the school, belittling boys who wanted to date her, scorning girls who wanted her friendship, manipulating the teachers, both male and female, who could not disguise their own feelings of inadequacy in her presence. The rumor was that Bridget was still a virgin, not out of any Puritan beliefs on her part, but that she'd never met a guy she thought worthy enough to win a prize as exalted as her maidenhead.
The fact that I'd stood up to her, even in this petty way, stunned my friends. "What the hell has gotten into you?" Chris said.
I shrugged and said, "Maybe I've come to see that I have some good qualities too." And that's how a left them, shaking their heads as I walked to my next class. I chuckled as I imagined what Bridget's reaction would be if she saw me with my pants down, my enormous dick hard as steel, my legs in the air, and my mouth all over myself, sucking my cock until I came. THAT might impress her, I thought.
The school day crawled by, but it eventually ended and I raced home from the bus stop. Tensions at home had gradually declined the past week, but when I came through the door my mom gave me a sour look. "Going out again?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah."
"You have to do your homework first."
"OK, sure." I went straight to my room. That was the deal, homework first, blowjobs later. I raced through my math problems and took notes on "The Merchant of Venice" and an hour later I was ready to go.
"I'm going!" I called.
Mom came out of the kitchen. "Are you sure Elaine doesn't mind you bothering her every day?"
"She hasn't said so."
I felt a bit bad for Mom. Discovering your son with his own come dribbling out of his mouth and a homemade dildo sticking out of his ass is a shock you don't get over in a week, and now she also had to contend with me going over to Elaine's every day to do God knew what. I think Mom longed for the days when I thought girls were yucky and all I wanted to do was play cops and robbers. Those days, I thought as I climbed in the car and pointed it toward Elaine's house, were definitely over.
Elaine welcomed me in with a kiss on the cheek. "And how are you today?" she asked, feeling my crotch with the palm of her hand. "Ooh, he feels heavy today."
"Is today the day?" I asked anxiously. Elaine had so far declined to fuck me, and I was desperate to get my cock inside her.
"I think not," she said. "I have something else in mind for today. Shall we?"
I was disappointed, but not so much that I didn't practically skip up the stairs to the Fun Room. I obediently lay on the bed and let Elaine truss my wrists and ankles. She cranked me up and I moistened my lips with my tongue, anticipating that I would soon have my cock in my mouth.
But Elaine stopped me when my legs were only half in the air, the cords suspending my ass about three inches off the ground. "Oh, boy," I thought. The other time Elaine did this she gave me head while she fucked my ass with a skinny glass dildo. I'd come in quarts.
"Honey," she said, "I need to ask a favor from you."
