I Was a Teenaged Metahuman

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Welcome back to the story! I'd tell you to check the previous chapter if you haven't already read it, but you're smart and there are numbers. Everyone doing sex is 18 or older.

Many thanks to icedragonmo3 for beta-reading and correcting my often challenging grammar. Any mistakes herein are because of my pride, inattention, or inability to leave it alone.

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I Was a Teenaged Metahuman

Chapter 2

Canine

"Sorry, no," said Lydia.

Max blinked. He'd been certain...

"That's a shame," he said. "Some other time?"

Lydia shook her head fractionally. "No... I'm sorry."

"I had to ask," he admitted with a rueful smile. "You seem really cool."

He squinted at her, walking to her next class. Yes, she was still interested. She must have heard about him, though, because she was wary.

Buck up, Little Camper,

he told himself. All this messing about with women was a lot of work, anyway. Keeping it secret from his mother was starting to tax his ability to think up new lies.

He was in his next class when he got the feeling he was being watched. There was a tinge of regret, along with no small amount of attraction. He looked around the classroom until he saw Felice. She was doodling in her notebook but stealing glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

Maybe Lynwood was right and he was delusional. This girl had another guy

and

she'd told him she never wanted to see him again. There was no way.

He was going to his next class when a hand caught his, and before he knew it, he was pulled into the girls' bathroom.

Felice put her arms around him and things went into slow motion. Her face was moving toward him. Her lips parted and her eyes closed.

Her lips on his felt like lightning, and her tongue pushing into his mouth was the velvety thunder of distant skies.

He was full of the smell and taste and feel of Felice. Their tongues battled with unflagging passion. He lost track of where he was, of who he was. He felt her affection for him mirrored in his own heart. His whole body was warm and tingly.

Eventually they had to part so that they could gasp for air. She swiped a thumb over his lips, smearing her lipstick, and said, "I'm sorry I was mean to you. You're a sweet guy."

"Uh," he said in awe.

The bell rang. Lord, they'd been making out for ten minutes! Felice ran off and left him standing in the ladies' with a hard-on. He covered it with his book bag and ran to class, trying to ignore the stink-eye from the girls who were trying to use the restroom for its intended purpose.

He slid into his seat with seconds to spare. Vayden, looking over at him, did a double take and pointed to his own mouth, and Max scrubbed his face with a piece of paper. It came away pink.

After class, Vayden approached him with questions, but Max felt a tap on his shoulder first.

"Hey," said Lydia nervously. "You got a second?"

"What's up?"

"I wanted to know... I'm curious..." she smiled engagingly, yet she was clearly struggling. "Friday. What are you doing Friday?"

"I have church until nine. Sorry. Not my idea."

"Saturday, then. Early in the day?"

"I've got work." Sensing her disappointment, he hastily added, "But I can get out of it."

She but her lower lip, "Go out with me?"

"I thought you didn't want to."

She leaned in and pressed her soft lips against his cheek. "I guess I changed my mind," she said.

Max's hand shook as they exchanged numbers, and then she ran off to her next class.

He was staring after her, watching her pink hair recede in the crowd when a slap on the back nearly bowled him over.

"You

dog!"

crowed Vayden.

*

Trip Hop

"Hi, Max," greeted Lydia at her front door.

He brought the bouquet from behind his back. "For you."

Her face lit up, "Aww, Max, they're beautiful!" She turned the bouquet this way and that, admiring it. "I've never seen flowers like these!"

"They grow around here," he explained, feeling suddenly shy. "They seemed like a good way to welcome you. I, uh, I know this town sucks compared to Atlanta, but it's not all bad."

Lynwood was right, she was rich. Her foyer probably cost more than his whole house. "This place is amazing," Max observed.

"Daddy really spared no expense," agreed Lydia, escorting him across an expanse of imported marble to the living room. The wall facing the lake was all windows, offering an impressive view.

They went out to the back deck. A path led from here to a dock with a big white boat and a couple of personal watercraft. The day was cloudless and the lake sparkled like a million jewels.

Lydia fit the scene perfectly, wearing a loose, flowing top and cutoffs, with a pair of sunglasses perched fetchingly on her forehead. Her legs were incredible.

She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes and turned to him, and he felt her eyes wander over his body. He was in khaki shorts and a tank top, and she seemed particularly interested in his chest and shoulders.

"Do you work out?" she asked.

"Some. Mostly I work. I got those flowers on the job, actually. Don't tell my boss."

She giggled, which Max took as a good sign; He hadn't really said anything funny.

"Speaking of which," he added, indicating the flowers, "May I?"

She held the bouquet up in tacit agreement and he carefully drew forth a purple cosmos flower. "I thought this would go well with your hair."

His hand shook a little as he stepped close to her and carefully pushed the stem into her hair. Their faces were close and her huge green eyes scarcely blinked as he tucked the flower behind her ear.

He brought up his phone camera app in selfie mode, then turned it so she could see herself. He was still close so this put them both in the picture.

She dimpled, then turned and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. She poked the shutter button, and did it again with her lips pressed to his cheek. He felt a wave of affection go through her, then she said, "Come on, let's ride the jet-skis."

Even better, she removed her clothes, and even though she wore a bikini beneath it was as if she'd stripped down to her underwear as far as Max's level of arousal was concerned. He did the same, and if she was surprised that he wore a bathing suit beneath a pair of shorts, she was polite enough not to show it.

"My mother," he explained. "She doesn't like me dating, so I've got to sneak around."

"Your tan is uneven," she smiled, and drew her finger along his upper arm where dark skin gave way to light, thanks to the short-sleeved shirts he often wore at work. "We should work on it after our ride."

Max had never ridden a jet-ski before, but now he saw the appeal. They cavorted and raced, trying to jump each other's wake. Lydia was an expert at carving a turn in such a way that he was hit with a sheet of water, and she loved to laugh at him sputtering and shaking droplets out of his eyes. Her enthusiasm was contagious and despite the fact that his nose was burning with inhaled water, he laughed along with her.

They returned to the house for refreshments. Lydia was a gracious hostess and fun to talk to, even though she wasn't into the same things Max was.

She was into him, though. He could feel it. She'd lost her flower during the aquatic melee and brought him another one. She shuddered and blushed when he installed it.

There had been something about his encounter with Felice, earlier in the week. It was more intimate even than the nights she tried to smother him with her bosom. When she'd dragged him into the ladies' and kissed him, it was as if there was a secret language encoded in her every move and nuance, and her lips parting against his was the key that unlocked the whole thing.

He wasn't dwelling on that moment, however, he was focused on Lydia. She'd been happy to see him when he arrived and he hadn't experienced something like that since he was a small child.

She was saying, "It's all about depth of field. You just can't get that with a phone camera... Are you okay?"

God, she was worried about him. That was new, too. He tried to smother the tears that threatened. "I'm sorry. It's... Did you know..." he took a shaky breath and assayed a little smile. He needed another deep breath before he could say, "Today is the first time I've ever been invited to someone's house."

"Pssh, okay."

"Lydia, up until a few weeks ago, I've never had a conversation this long with someone who wasn't family."

"No. You're

serious?

Really? That's messed up!"

With a wry twist to his mouth, he replied, "Is it? I wouldn't know."

"Geez, what is with this town?"

"It's my checkered past. I was a real nut when I was younger." He sipped his soda. "Two things a small town never forgets: your football stats and your mistakes."

"You were on the football team?"

"No, but given their record, I'm glad of it," he smiled.

"Aww, I bet you would have been good at it. You're big enough." She let her eyes snuggle up to him.

"I tried out for the team, it didn't work out." When his mother found out he'd done it, she went to the school and yelled at the coach for half an hour. The football team had harassed him pretty badly after that, but she'd taken care of that as well.

"Their loss," she said admiringly, and her excitement peaked as she ran her fingers lightly down his arm.

Max crossed to the sink to deposit his glass and said, "You ever do any sports?"

She did the same with her own glass, which put her very close behind him. He felt her point of focus like a warm spot that traveled up his arm and zig-zagged appreciatively down his back before resting on his butt. He was going to get aroused if he kept thinking like that, and in his swimsuit it would be difficult to hide. Plus, it felt rude to have his back to her. He turned to face her and opened the distance a bit.

"I like endurance sports," she said. "Cross-country and swimming, mostly."

"Swimming is an endurance sport?"

Her eyes gleamed as she explained, "Oh yes. It works the whole body." She gestured to her own nearly nude body. He couldn't believe her parents let her get that bikini. The top was strapless and clung to her high, firm breasts while the bottoms... whew, the bottoms! The side ties were just too much. The idea that it only took a single tug on the string to expose her was too much to think about.

"I said, 'It depends on the event.'" She was saying. "Where were you?"

"Sorry. You, uh. I like your suit."

She looked down at it, tugging the top to adjust it, needlessly. "I wish I had bigger tits," she replied, then looked up at him in horrified shock. "I didn't mean to say that!"

He could feel her insecurity and fear of rejection like an old wound, and he wanted to heal it. He'd just have to risk his soul. If she could feel him in the same way he sensed her, she wouldn't doubt her loveliness. How could he show that?

While she wavered and worried about his lack of an immediate response, he took a step back and, starting with her face, surveyed her entire body. She was a little taller and much leaner than most girls. Her shoulders and legs were well-developed, and her stomach hinted alluringly at the muscles beneath. In a wholly sincere tone of awe, he told her, "I wouldn't change a thing."

She took a deep breath, nostrils flaring, then pulled his head down for a kiss. Her tongue slithered past his defenses and he moaned as he tightened his arms around her. Even the shape of her back was exciting to him, and that he only experienced by touch as he held her. He instantly lost his battle to control his arousal. The new battle was to not poke her with it.

When they parted, leaving him feeling sugary and excited, she said, "Thanks for the compliment."

"It was a simple observation," he breathed, and surprised himself by kissing her, just as long and as deep as the last. He was losing control. He had to get it together!

She was feeling similarly so she suggested they go outside.

By the time they got the towels (handy for hiding erections) and went to the loungers on the deck, he sensed that her thoughts were a tangle of desire and erotic imagery. She fiddled with her phone and a wireless speaker, and music began to play. It was hypnotic and sensuous, like the sway of her hips as she walked toward him.

Without taking her eyes from him, she plucked a bottle of suntan lotion from a nearby table as she approached. "Let's spread out your towel," she suggested, and took it from him.

Ooh, she was smooth. If he hadn't sensed the uptick of excitement in her, he'd have thought she hadn't noticed the tent he was pitching. She arranged his towel on a lounger beside hers, then waggled her eyebrows at him as she thumbed the top off the lotion.

"You're going to burn," she purred.

"Thanks." He reached for the bottle, but she held it out of his reach.

Without saying a word, she spread lotion between her palms and stepped behind him. He trembled when he felt her hands on him. With slow, sure motions she spread the lotion from his shoulders inward, and her hands coming together at the back of his neck made twinges of delight break out all over.

She went back and forth from the tops of his shoulders down to his middle back, giggling when she touched spots that made him squirm. "Oh, you're ticklish!" She touched the same spots on his sides and laughed at his gasps.

Taking mercy on him, she continued to the waistband of his suit.

"I can get my legs," he offered, thinking to save her the trouble.

"I'm already down here," she replied from a crouch, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning at the feel of both her hands on his thigh, especially when they went up, just under the leg of his suit, before descending. He was so erect he was throbbing. When she did his other leg, he did make a small but unmistakable grunt.

"There," she said in a satisfied tone. He could sense that satisfaction, and the feeling of anticipation building in her. "Wait..." she added, and suddenly he felt her hands on his ears. Unable to hold in a sharp inhalation of pleasure, he gritted his teeth against the rising sense of excitement, made worse by what was being broadcast by his date, that threatened to ruin everything. If grabbing that girl's boob in third grade had ruined his social life, touching Lydia's entire body in her backyard would probably get him lynched.

"Now me," she chirped.

If she were as insecure as she had been about the size of her wonderful breasts, she would be really hurt by his refusal to lotion her. He had to do it. At least he would die happy.

He turned, and didn't fail to note her quick, pleased glance at his tented-out suit before she put her back to him and handed over the bottle.

It went without saying that Max had never done this. The dreamy, sexually-charged music laid down just the right soundtrack to a long and fulfilling journey over Lydia's body. He started at her neck, and her sigh of delight was not in the least bit stifled. He covered her delicate skin there and spread outward to her shoulders and beyond. As his hands moved down her arms, he felt her enjoyment rising until it peaked at her hands. Acting on a hunch, he wrapped his fingers around her wrists.

Her excitement soared. He tightened his grip and she made a mewling noise in her throat. Her arousal was through the roof, and when he pulled her wrists behind her back and put them together, her breathing took on a staccato rhythm.

He didn't know if it was his need or hers that made him lean forward, put his lips next to her ear and assert in a low whisper, "You like that."

Lydia moaned in response. Looking over her shoulder at him made her even more excited.

He transferred her wrists to one hand and clamped them firmly. Her chest was heaving as he brought his free hand up and settled his fingertips between her shoulder blades. This was going to ruin his social life when people found out, but he couldn't not rake his nails slowly down her spine until they nudged her suit bottoms. He couldn't prevent himself from following the seductive curve of her butt and making contact at the bottom edge of her suit.

Dear lord, he was touching her butt. Instead of being repulsed, Lydia was positively quivering with bliss. Managing her wrists with one hand and nearly insane with the thought of what his other hand was doing, he lost track of the rest of his body until he felt his erection brush against her bound hands.

The feeling was electric, unlike any he'd experienced, and though he pulled back, the one thought in his mind was

she liked that, too!

He released her wrists, sensing her disappointment, and spread more lotion between his palms. When his hands landed on either side of her butt and spread the lotion from there, her disappointment evaporated.

"While I'm down here," he grinned, throwing her words back at her. By the time he'd covered her exquisitely-turned legs, he was flush all over, crouching at eye level with her butt.

He stood up abruptly and surprised her by catching her wrists again. He pulled them behind her and moved up between them until his pants-tent made the slightest contact with her body. He held tight, pulling down and back just enough to be uncomfortable.

"That's for turning me down for a date," he growled.

"I'm sorry," she replied, to his everlasting shock. "My friends said to stay away from you."

He wanted to ask why, but this wasn't the moment. Her ear was right there in front of him, and in a daze, he leaned forward and got it between his teeth.

She meeped and arched her back. Thinking to disguise it as accidental, she pushed her butt back and again made contact with his erection. Tingles were everywhere now, but instead of being transient, they swirled and accumulated in his center. Her breathing was short, he realized, and he felt her tingles now, in addition to his own. The way her pleasure rose and fell with his stimuli was as easy to follow as a street sign. Her breath became shorter and wheezy, and she soared into the heights of rapture...

"Bite my neck," she requested, and when he did she cried out, "Ah! Ah! Oh! Mmmm, YES!"

Her entire body tensed and her butt pressed hard against him, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his body, interspersing nibbles with kisses and licks to her neck and then her ear.

Once the idea came into his mind, he couldn't resist it. He fought heroically but his hands descended until they were on her hips. He felt those side ties beneath his palms and tightened his fingers. An involuntary growl escaped his throat. He pulled her firmly toward him, mashing his shaft into the cleft of her buttocks.

Lydia began to rock her hips and tense her glutes rhythmically. She was actually gripping his member through their suits, and the motion was making him crazy lightheaded. He moaned.

"Yes," she whispered, shuddering uncontrollably, and ecstasy overwhelmed his every sense. His cock throbbed and he was so carried away he couldn't yet be horrified that fluid erupted again and again. He threw his head back and howled with passion as his orgasm raged.

Oh God, what have I done?

He opened his mouth and was preparing the granddaddy of all apologies when she spun and jammed her body against his, invading his mouth with a kiss hotter than he'd ever imagined possible. He kissed her back just as hard, and to his everlasting shame he pulled her hard against him instead of running away and devoting his life to monastic living. His suit was wet and she had to have been feeling it, but she, too, worked to ensure there wasn't a single molecule of air between their bodies.

He backed, thinking to avoid the urge to lay down atop her, and the next thing he knew he was lying on his back on a lounger with Lydia's body draped on his, making out greedily.