Glancing up to my second-floor bedroom window, I thought I saw the curtains move.
I'd being laying out by the pool for about an hour, reading a boring book assigned as part of my school's summer reading program, and working on my tan, when I first detected movement at my bedroom window. It was too bright outside to see into my bedroom, but the pulled-back pink and white curtains had undeniably moved as I watched from behind my blue-tinted sunglasses.
No one was supposed to be home. It was a scorching hot afternoon, one of those mid-June days in Florida where the heat covered you like a wet blanket. Mom, an RN at a local hospital, was working a dayshift, and Dad was at another construction site down in Miami for the entire week. My twin brother, Andrew, was at his friend Mark's house helping Mark's father build a deck, so I was supposed to have the house and the pool all to myself. I'd swiped several of Dad's beers from the refrigerator and was getting a good buzz as I enjoyed my time alone.
Figuring that perhaps the air conditioning--the vent was on the floor directly under my window--was swirling the gauzy curtains around, I reached over and grabbed the bottle of sunscreen on the small table next to the chasse lounge and began to slather the oily crème all over my arms and upper body. I was wearing a new blue and white thong bikini that I had bought with money from by 18th birthday, two months earlier. Mom had forbidden me to wear it to the beach, so here I was, lying by our pool in the sexiest bikini no one would ever see.
Rolling on to my stomach, I oiled my back and shoulders as best I could and then untied the back of the tiny bikini top before once again immersing myself into "An American Tragedy." Reaching into the ice bucket at my side, I popped open another beer and sipped thirstily from the can.
Ten or so minutes later, I rolled back onto my back and again glanced up at my bedroom window. I wasn't positive, but I thought I again detected movement. Slipping my tiny bikini top off my sweat covered tits; I rubbed the already bronzed flesh with another oily dose of sunscreen.
Slowly glancing around the fenced-in yard, I rubbed and caressed my oily tits causing my nipples to spike and ache with need. Thinking about the date I had coming up with Chris Patrick, one of the rich kids from our school, I felt my little pussy give a quick shiver.
Chris and I had gone out once before four days earlier. We'd spent the day at the beach with a bunch of his friends--we hung out in separate crowds--and then he'd taken me to the movies. Like every boy I dated, Chris was anxious to see how far he could get. We'd flirted and teased a lot at the beach and during the movie, we held hands and he'd put his arm around me. After the movie, Chris, his voice tinged with uncertainty, asked if I wanted to go home. Leaning over to kiss him, I suggested we go to a well-known lover's lane in a wooded area between the river and the ocean to "talk." I noticed Tim's hands trembling a bit as he inserted the car-key into the ignition and I quickly leaned over to kiss him again in reassurance.
Arriving at the municipal park, we found an appropriately secluded parking spot in the woods and Chris killed the car lights. A few moments later we were locked in a tight embrace, kissing passionately. I wasn't sure if Chris knew of my naughty reputation and if that was the main reason he'd asked me out, but he didn't seem too surprised when my hand started to fumble with the zipper of his jeans. Emboldened, Chris began to unbutton my tight top, and after a few brief seconds, his hands were caressing my plump, braless tits.
With Chris' help, I succeeded in pulling his steel-hard cock-shaft from the confines of his jeans and under shorts, and soon had my date moaning in delight as he pushed my head up and down on his hard, throbbing fuck-meat.
It wasn't long before Chris flooded my greedy mouth with his tangy, hot cum and I swallowed and sucked eagerly as he held my little blonde head firmly in place. Looking up at him, I licked the final traces of his hot spunk away from my lips and hastily unfastened my own jeans.
Chris' cock stayed hard and, following my lead, he crawled between and partially over the front seats to join me in the back of his mom's Cherokee. Chris wasted no time in peeling my tight jeans and sticky yellow panties from over my squirming ass and hips as I moaned with lust. Pushing me down against the rear seat, he hurriedly got on top of me and plugged his stiff cock into my oozing cunt-hole.
"Fuck, you're easy," Chris groaned ungentlemanly, but not unkindly, as he started to pump into me. "You're so fucking hot, Kathy!"
Humping up against my new boyfriend, I moaned and whimpered as my pussy stretched to accommodate his hard boner. His mom's Cherokee bounced slowly, steadily as we rutted in the back seat and, five minutes later, Chris stiffened and yelped as he shot a hot load of cum deep in my tight, gyrating pussy.
We drove almost wordlessly back to my house. I was a bit disappointed that Chris had not made me cum, but then again, not many boys did the first time. I'd learned that it took experience and patience to make me cum, something boys didn't often have the first time with me.
I was afraid that Chris was not going to ask me out again, since I'd put out so quickly, but when we pulled up to the side of my house he bashfully spoke up. "I have tickets to the Offspring concert next Friday. Do you want to go?"
Delighted that one of the rich boys wanted to date me again, I responded by enthusiastically kissing him. Within moments, my head was back in his lap, and, as Chris scanned the neighborhood, alert for intruders, I sucked and licked his hard cock fervently. Up and down, I bobbed my blonde head, moaning and whimpering softly as Chris' cock filled my mouth and wedged against the back of my throat. Once again pushing down on the back of my head, Chris let out a loud grunt, as his cock-head nudged past my tonsils and exploded in my gullet. Gagging and spluttering just a bit, I dutifully let Chris push his cock all the way down my throat and discharge his load of hot, creamy cum straight into my belly.
After getting into bed that night, I'd rubbed my sticky little slit to two huge orgasms, panting and swearing under by breath as I came. Now, lying on the lounge chair by the pool, I closed my eyes and plucked at my hard nipples while recalling the events of Chris' and my first date.
Once again, though, I felt the sensation of being watched. At first, I passed it off to the probability that, after four of Dad's beers, I was at least slightly drunk. Still, I quickly glanced at my bedroom window once more. This time I was positive I detected movement around the edges of the large window. Leaving my book on the lounge chair, I made a show of examining the empty ice bucket. Retying my bikini top around my neck and back, I left my flip-flops next to the chair and made my way inside. Hurriedly, but stealthily, I glided up the stairs towards my bedroom.
Reaching the top of the stairs I paused briefly to listen for any sounds. Sure enough I heard voices emanating from inside my bedroom. At a snail's pace, I crept towards the door, alert for any motion from my bedroom.
As I neared the door, I heard my younger (by eight minutes) brother's voice. "She's in the kitchen stealing more beer. She'll be going back out; she left all her stuff out on the chair and table.
"I sure hope so," I heard his best friend Mark respond. I gotta see if she plays with her tits some more. My cock is so fucking hard!"
"I told you she's got great tits," my little brother proudly informed his friend. I'd do anything to get my cock between them."
"How big are they? Do you know how big they are?" Mark asked Andrew.
"34C." My brother promptly responded. "It says it right there, see?"
Holding my breath, I crept closer to the open door and cautiously peered around the corner. Immediately I had to stifle a gasp. Both Mark and Andrew were sporting erections as they stood near my bedroom window. Mark had a yellow pair of my thong panties in his hand that he was rubbing slowly across his rather thick cock. Andrew, always an overachiever, had both a black bra and a black pair of my panties in hand as he also stroked his rigid boner.
