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This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Photo Credit: Socrates Turnpike
Used under a Creative Commons license.
Cover Design: Selena Kitt
Under Mr. Nolan’s Bed © 2008 Selena Kitt
A Smashwords Edition
eXcessica publishing
All rights reserved
Under Mr. Nolan’s Bed
By Selena Kitt
I’d seen a few Playboys and Hustlers and stuff like that—but I’d never seen anything like what Erica showed me in a box under her father’s bed. It was really hardcore stuff, and it showed everything, all the minute details of flesh, up close and personal. I found myself utterly enthralled, in spite of my embarrassment with Erica right there. I couldn’t seem to help my body’s response.
We sat on the floor in silence, sifting through the slick, glossy pile of pages, flipping through each of them on our own, our breathing becoming faster and more shallow in the silence. Once in a while, she would nudge me and show me something of interest, and I would do the same, when the picture we were staring at was so intense it absolutely required sharing.
And then he came home early, and we scrambled to shove everything back in and under before running back to her room. Breathless and flushed, we both jumped when he opened the door and asked if we wanted pizza.
“Can Leah stay?” Erica asked and he smiled—Mr. Nolan had the best smile—and looked over at me where I was lying on my belly on the floor, flipping through a Teen Beat and swinging my feet, still in the knee-high stockings that our Catholic school uniform required. I hated them—the whole outfit, really, the way it made me feel twelve instead of eighteen was just humiliating. I usually changed the minute I got home, but Erica had convinced me to come straight to her place.
Mr. Nolan met my eyes and winked. “Sure, as long as her mom says it’s okay.”
Not much problem there. My mom thought Mr. Nolan was the best—a widowed father, raising Erica all by himself, and Catholic, too! She always started conversations about him with, “If it weren’t for your father—” which I always cut off with a disgusted exclamation of, “Mom!” Little did she know about all the ungodly pornography residing under his bed. Of course, until today, I hadn’t known either. I found myself looking at the crotch of his trousers and wondered what he looked like when he jerked off to all the pictures in those magazines. The thought made my body respond immediately—my pussy, already wet from looking at all those pictures, pulsed between my thighs.
Mom said I could stay for pizza, and when Erica asked Mr. Nolan if I could sleep over because we had to work on our senior group project, he readily agreed. Of course it was just an excuse, and we were up until well after midnight, doing more giggling than working. I still couldn’t believe some of the images I had seen that afternoon. They were burned into my memory and I’d thought of little else since.
“So how long have you known about your dad’s collection?” I pulled one of Erica’s t-shirts over my head to sleep in as we were getting ready for bed.
She grinned at me, rolling over onto her belly on the bed. “A long time.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yup.” Waggling her eyebrows, she shoved her books off the end of her bed and yawned.
“Doesn’t it make you…?”
“Horny as hell?” she laughed. “Yeah. Duh! I usually take my vibrator with me… either that, or call Bobby afterward so he can come over and go down on me.”
I stared at her. “So tell me the truth, then… have you and Bobby...you know…”
“No!” She made a face. “I’m still a virgin. Sheesh.”
I slipped into the sleeping bag that Mr. Nolan had retrieved for me out of the hall closet, trying to reconcile Erica’s belief that she was still a virgin with the fact that she and Bobby had clearly done far more than just kiss, which was, admittedly, about all that I had done. I just lived vicariously through Erica.
She turned off the light. “So which one was your favorite?”
The darkness made me feel bolder. “There was that one I showed you with the two girls and the one guy…”
“Ohhh yeah,” she murmured. “Where he’s on his back, licking one of them, and the other one is riding his cock?”
I flushed, even in the darkness, hearing her say the words. “Yeah…”
“I like the ones with two guys and a girl, too,” she said. “Seeing her suck on a guy while she’s getting fucked… I’d love to know what that’s like.”
I bit my lip, slipping my hand down over my panties in the darkness and cupping my mound. My pussy was aching, and it felt better when I touched it.
“I love seeing a girl get licked,” she went on, her voice lower. “It just makes me remember… god, it feels soooo good…”
“Does it?” The crotch of my panties was damp and I rubbed my finger over my clit through the material, teasing. I couldn’t imagine a soft, warm tongue between my legs. The thought both stunned and intrigued me.
“Oh my god, Leah,” she purred. “You have no idea. I wish I had Bobby’s tongue right now… right here on my clit…”
My breath caught, and in the darkness I could hear a faint wet sound. “Are you… Erica, are you…?”
“Go ahead,” she whispered, and I heard that little wet sound speeding up. “You know you want to.”
I did want to. Encouraged by the darkness, I slipped my hand under the elastic band of my panties, past the soft, dark hair, seeking the moist heat between my lips. Everything there was swollen and slick and my fingers moved easily, making the same faint, wet sound that I could hear coming from Erica’s bed.
“Mmmmm yeah,” she whispered. “God that’s good… lick my pussy, baby.”
I knew she was imagining it, and I imagined it, too, remembering the pictures—a blonde girl spreading herself open wide, his tongue poised right at her clit. Would it feel as good as my fingers? I wondered, as I rubbed myself in little circles. My nipples grew hard under the t-shirt, and the sleeping bag soon became too warm.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” Erica asked, and I made a little noise, not answering her, but pulling the sleeping bag down a little, all flushed and hot. “Doesn’t it make you want a big, hard cock right now? Ohhh I want to know what it feels like to be fucked…”
I moaned softly, hearing the wet noises grow louder from Erica’s bed, and I couldn’t help sliding my hand up under my t-shirt to play with my nipples. The sensation went straight down between my legs, moving my fingers faster over the hard bud of my clit.
“Ohhhh yeah, fuck me hard,” she whispered, and all I could see when I closed my eyes was the close-up picture of a slick, fat cock poised at a soft, pink hole, waiting to be filled.
I slid my fingers down and plunged them into me, listening to Erica moaning on the bed and the soft squeak of the mattress and boxspring. My thighs were so taut they were trembling and I rocked in the darkness, my breath coming as fast as hers, my hand working hard between my legs, aching for release.
“Oh, oh, oh!” she cried, short little squeaks, and then a fast, whispered, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
I heard her shuddering breath, the soft cries of her pleasure, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I came, too, my body quivering with my climax in the darkness.
We didn’t talk as our breathing began to return to normal and our hearts stopped beating a mile a minute. I felt embarrassed, and I wondered if she did, too. My trembling thighs finally relaxed. Eventually, I could hear that she was sleeping. Years of sleepovers made me familiar with the sound. Yet, I couldn’t seem to drift off, and instead I rolled around in the sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable on the floor.
Finally, I got up to go pee. The hall was dark, but I could see a faint light coming from underneath Erica’s dad’s door. The bathroom was next to his room and actually had two doors, one that you could access from the hallway, and another directly across that led to Mr. Nolan’s room. I guess it was the builder’s version of a semi-private bath.
I always felt funny peeing in that bathroom at night, knowing that Mr. Nolan was right on the other side of the door, but I never locked them, because they were the push-button kind of locks that made so much noise when you pressed them. I never even turned on the light. I guess I hated the thought of waking him up more than I feared getting walked in on.
Although it looked like he was still up—there was a faint glow from under the bathroom door, and as I stood there listening, I heard soft noises. The TV, of course. He probably fell asleep with it on.
I lifted my t-shirt a little and pulled my panties down to my knees when I heard his voice, low but clear as could be: “Fuck her hard, yeahhhh!”
My eyes wide, I turned back toward the door, where that light flickered underneath. Did he have someone in there? Then I remembered the television, and something Erica had mentioned this afternoon about his video collection. We hadn’t gotten into any of that before he came home, but I knew then that he must be watching something pornographic.
And masturbating. The thought made me tingle. My hand went to the bathroom doorknob, the silver handle cool against my flesh.
“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” he growled, making me press my ear to the doorjamb. I couldn’t see anything at all through the crack in the door, but I was desperate to see. “Fuck that hot little cunt!”
His words made my knees weak and my mouth dry. As carefully as I could, I began to turn the handle. I knew the layout of his room almost as well as I knew my own—Erica and I had been best friends since first grade and I’d spent countless hours at her house. I knew that directly on the other side of the door was a little alcove with a closet, and that the alcove opened up into the larger space of his room, where his bed was kitty-corner from the bathroom.
I could see him. The door slipped open almost soundlessly, the latch only making the barest scraping noise, the hinges not squeaking at all. I could see part of the bed, and across from that, the television sitting on the dresser. Mr. Nolan was facing away from me, stretched out naked. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his hand moving between his legs as he watched the scene on the television.
It was the television that drew my eyes first—two women, the dark-haired one on her back, the blonde between her legs with her fingers pistoning in and out of the other girl’s pussy as she licked her. The camera was close up, showing her pink wetness, completely smooth. I stared, my fingers brushing the softness between my legs, wondering what it would feel like without hair.
Then the camera panned back to reveal a man behind the blonde, his cock pounding into her from behind. He was gripping her hips, squeezing and pulling them as he fucked her, driving into her and making her moan against the other woman’s pussy. The sounds alone were enough to make me wet, if I hadn’t been already—the slick slap of their bodies, the moans of the women, the grunts of the guy behind them.
A sound from Mr. Nolan drew my attention to him again, and I saw that the hand between his legs had stopped, and he was squeezing his cock head hard in his fist. I bit my lip, watching him slowly pull the skin down tight as he moved his hand toward the base, staring at the length of him. He wasn’t as big as the guy on the screen—but almost! I was fascinated with the way he touched it, now pressing it up against his belly and rubbing it up toward his navel as he watched the threesome on the screen.
“Oooooh yeah,” he moaned, taking it into his fist again as, on the TV, the three of them were rearranging themselves, the blonde lying on the bed, and the dark-haired woman lying on top of her, both of them on their back. The guy knelt between their legs, fucking first the girl on top, then the girl on the bottom, switching back and forth. Mr. Nolan’s hand was pumping again, his hips bucking a little.
My fingers moved over the soft, wet hairs of my pussy, and in spite of the fact that I’d just recently had an orgasm, I started to rub my clit again, spreading my legs, my panties still caught at my knees as I pressed my eye to the crack in the door to see better. I’d forgotten all about having to pee—in fact, the pressure to go just increased the pleasure as I worked my clit in fast little circles.
The girls on the screen were kissing, their tongues meshing, as the guy between their legs fucked first one, then the other. Seeing his cock, so slick and wet as it came out, the head of it bright red as he slipped it up and down before sliding it back in again, was almost as good as watching Mr. Nolan’s hand shuttling up and down the length of his shaft. I couldn’t decide where to look, and my pussy was so wet I could feel it spreading to my thighs.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” the girls on screen begged. “No, me… me!” They were fighting over who got to feel his cock inside of them, and I wondered what it would be like to be fucked, to be pressed into, filled with that steady, rhythmic pounding of my flesh.
I looked at Mr. Nolan, who was pumping very fast now, the movement of his hand a flash up and down in the ghostly light from the TV. His soft moans sent shivers through me, making me rub my clit a little faster, matching his intensity. I couldn’t help pulling my t-shirt up over my breasts and pressing my nipples against the door.
“I’m gonna come!” It was the guy on screen, pulling his cock out of the blonde on the bottom and aiming it toward the dark-haired girl’s shaved pussy. She was spreading it open for him as he began to come, grunting and moaning and shoving his hips forward as huge, white-hot jets of fluid began spilling onto her mound.
I almost groaned out loud when Mr. Nolan grabbed the remote next to him, hitting the rewind button—I wanted to see the rest! Back the tape went, back to when they all first started rearranging themselves again. My fingers were slick with my juices now, and I wanted to shove two of them inside me, but I was afraid he might hear the noise, even with the TV on, so I just focused on my clit, the hot, wet sensation between my legs growing with every moment.
Mr. Nolan’s hand was moving even faster, and I could hear his breath, the sound of it filling the room, panting with his effort. I looked from the screen to him and back again, the intensity of the experience pushing forward, upward, making me rub myself off even faster, my forehead pressed against the door frame, my nipples brushing there, too, hard and throbbing.
“Fuck, oh fuck, yeah, yeah,” he moaned, his hand a blinding streak up and down his cock, his hips bucking on the bed, and I could hear the bedsprings, just like I had with Erica. On the screen, the guy was pumping hard into the blonde, growling and bucking, too, and I heard him say it again like some hot, delicious deja-vu: “I’m gonna come!”
“Fuck yeah!” Mr. Nolan groaned, his hips really pressing up hard now, his hand pumping. My pussy was on fire, and my fingers were taking me with him, so close, my breath matching his. “I’m gonna come all over that pussy, baby!”
It all happened at once—the guy coming on the screen again, the dark-haired girl spreading her smooth, shaved lips so he could aim his cock right there, right against her clit, shooting hot streams of white fluid onto her pussy. There was so much of it, wave after wave, dribbling over her fingers spreading her open, down the pink folds of her flesh.
And Mr. Nolan was coming, too, his cock erupting over his hand again and again, a geyser of hot, white cum spilling down his fist and onto his belly. I couldn’t take it—my swollen clit was throbbing, aching for relief, and I came, too, watching him thrust and grunt and spill even more cum as it slid down the length of his shaft, my pussy contracting so hard I wanted to scream, but I had to bite my lip to keep from making any sound at all as I shuddered and bucked against the doorframe.
My ears were ringing and my breath was coming so fast I could barely control it. Mr. Nolan was rubbing his softening cock against his belly and on screen, the blonde had wiggled out from under and was licking the cum off the dark-haired girl’s pussy. Feeling guilty now, I shut the door as quietly as I could, making sure the latch didn’t make that tell-tale “click” as it closed.
I sat on the toilet, breathless, my panties still at my knees, and peed, releasing a torrent over my swollen, throbbing pussy, and that felt good, too. The glow from under the bathroom door was still there, but the sound was gone, and I knew he must have muted the TV. It was quiet in his room. Suddenly it occurred to me that he would probably be coming to the bathroom to clean up!
I quickly grabbed some toilet paper to wipe myself, half standing, reaching around to flush, when the door opened and he came in. We froze in the flickering blue glow of the television, both of us exposed. He was completely naked, and I might as well have been, with my panties down and my shirt pulled up.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and I saw his eyes on me, moving over me. “I didn’t know you were in here!”
“I should have locked it,” I apologized to the closing door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nolan.”
He was quiet and I wondered if he knew, or suspected, that I had been standing there watching him. “It’s my fault, I should have knocked.”
I flushed the toilet, quickly pulling my panties up and my t-shirt down and washing my hands fast at the sink before announcing, “I’m done!”
“Good night, Leah,” he said as I opened the other bathroom door and stepped into the hallway.
“Good night, Mr. Nolan.” I swallowed hard as I made my way back to Erica’s room.
She was still sleeping, her breathing deep and even. I pressed my hot, red face into the cool, forgiving material of my pillow. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered, and something in my belly tightened another notch. I heard the toilet flush and the sound of the bathroom door closing again and knew he was back in his room.
I felt so guilty, squeezing my thighs together and feeling that ache while I was thinking about my best friend’s dad. I couldn’t help it though, and I slid my hand down again, under my belly, cupping my swollen mound in the darkness and rocking, remembering. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I wondered if he was thinking about me, too.
Chapter Two
I took a shower before the sun even came up, intent on going home as soon as possible, preferably before anyone woke up. I couldn’t face them, I decided, as I got dressed in the bathroom. I had to wear my uniform, since I hadn’t walked home to get a change of clothes the night before, but my panties were still damp, so I just shoved them into my skirt pocket and went without. I could have borrowed some of Erica’s but I didn’t want to wake her up.
I crept downstairs, going into the kitchen to get my backpack, and noticed the light over the stove was on. There was my backpack, on the floor by the door, right next to Mr. Nolan’s briefcase.
“Where are you going, Leah?”
I jumped and squealed, my heart racing as I turned to find Mr. Nolan sitting at the kitchen table. He was in shadow, but his face appeared in the light as he leaned forward and smiled at me.
“I… couldn’t sleep.” I put my backpack down and felt the burn in my cheeks. He knew what I looked like naked—and I’d seen him masturbating. Could it get any more embarrassing than this moment?
“Want some breakfast?” He waved me toward a chair. “We’ve got lots of cereal. Just don’t eat the last of the Cocoa Puffs, or Erica will have your head.”
Pulling a chair out, I sat, looking at him in the dimness. He was acting like nothing had happened, but I could feel something between us that hadn’t been there before.
I noticed he was dressed in a suit and tie. “Where are you going so early?”
“Work, unfortunately.” He took a bite of a bagel and cream cheese that I hadn’t noticed until that moment. “I’d rather not, but duty calls.”
“That looks good,” I remarked, and my stomach growled. I wasn’t used to being up so early. “Work on a Saturday?”
“Tax season,” he explained. “Accountants always work weekends in April.”
“Well, that sucks.” I watched him take another bite of bagel.
He chuckled, wiping cream cheese off the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Yes. It sucks. To say the least. Do you want some of this?”
I shrugged, my stomach growling again. “Maybe just a bite? I don’t have cooties.”
“Here.” He held it out to me, watching as I tore off a piece with my teeth and licked cream cheese off my lips. I felt self-conscious around him, like I wanted to check my hair or smooth my skirt, and I had never felt that way around Mr. Nolan before. His smile was warm and he took another bite, saying through a mouthful, “I’m not worried about catching cooties.”
“So how’d your project go last night?” he asked. I flushed at the mention of the night before and was glad that the kitchen wasn’t well-lit.
“Okay.” I shrugged, and took another bite of the bagel when he offered it to me and hugged my knee up to rest my chin on it. I did it without even thinking, before I remembered that I wasn’t wearing panties. When I saw where his eyes were, my face filled immediately with heat.
“You were up late,” he said, his voice a little lower, his eyes not moving. I was paralyzed, frozen in place, and the look on his face, caught somewhere between uneasiness and lust, made it even worse.
“So were you,” I replied softly and I didn’t look away when his eyes lifted to meet mine.
He cleared his throat and reached over and touched the corner of my mouth with a napkin, where I was stretching to reach with my tongue, to get a bit of cream cheese. “Sounded like a lot of giggling going on in there and not a lot of working.”
I smiled, slowly lowering my leg and smoothing my green and blue plaid skirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that he was watching me. “Yeah, well… you know how we are.”
“Yep.” He nodded, popping the last of the bagel into his mouth. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
The kitchen was lighter now—the sun was coming up. Behind us, Erica stumbled in, her short blonde hair a frazzled cloud around her face as she rubbed at her eyes and frowned.
“What are you two doing up at this ungodly hour?” she mumbled, groping along the counter toward the coffeemaker and flipping it on. My mother would have killed me before letting me drink coffee, but Mr. Nolan wasn’t like that.
“I’m going to work, darlin’.” He stood, taking his plate to the sink and kissing her cheek on the way by. “You two be good. Don’t trash the house. And no boys.” He said this last in a mock-stern voice, only he wasn’t really kidding.
“We’ll be good,” I piped up, seeing Erica roll her eyes and stick her tongue out at his back. He smiled at me and his eyes smiled, too. For a moment, just a brief second, they flickered down to the hem of my skirt and my whole body felt filled with heat.
“Bye, Mr. Nolan!” I called as he grabbed his briefcase.
Erica made a face at me as she heard the door close behind him. “Be good?!”
“We’re always good.” I smiled, watching her pour Cocoa Puffs.
She snorted, grabbing the milk out of the fridge. “Well, then, let’s go upstairs and get up to some good.”
“Erica!” I laughed. “More like ‘no good.’”
She took a bite of cereal and crunched noisily. “Don’t you want to see the videos?”
I blushed, remembering catching Mr. Nolan watching one of those videos last night, but of course, I couldn’t tell her that.
“Ahhhh sugar and caffeine!” She pulled a mug out of the cupboard. “Breakfast of champions—are you hungry?”
“No,” I replied, not telling her about the bagel I’d shared with her father, either.
“Well, let’s go then.” She grabbed her Cocoa Puffs and her coffee and headed out of the kitchen. “I want to show you something.”
“Another something?” I followed her up the stairs to her room.
She put her coffee on the night table and curled up on the bed, finishing her cereal as she directed me. “Open my underwear drawer.”
I opened the top drawer of her dresser, and it reminded me that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I grabbed a plain white pair. “Hey, can I borrow these?”
“Sure.” She drank the now-chocolate milk out of her bowl. “Look at the back of the drawer for a leopard print.”
I tugged the panties on and then straightened my skirt, looking at the back of her drawer for something that looked like a leopard print, finding it under a bunch of her bras. I grabbed it, surprised by the sudden weight in my hand—this wasn’t underwear!
“What in the heck?” I felt something long and hard under the material.
“My vibrator.” She grinned, drinking her coffee in huge gulps. “Ahhhh god, I love caffeine.”
“Should I even ask where you got it?” I sat on the bed and handed it over to her.
“Present from Bobby.” She opened the pouch and pulled out a bright pink phallic-shaped thing. “Feel.” She pressed it to the inside of my elbow. It was cold, but made of some soft, gel-like material.
“Now… imagine this…” Her eyes met mine as she turned a knob on the bottom, bringing the whole thing to life and it began to vibrate. “Right against your clit…”
I pulled my arm away like I’d been burned, still looking at it. “What… what does it feel like?”
“Wanna go find out?” She grinned, turning it off and hopping off the bed. “Come on, let’s go check out those videos.”
We went through the bathroom into Mr. Nolan’s room, and it reminded me of the night before. I stood in the doorway, my whole body tingling with the memory, staring at the bed where I’d watched him stroke his cock. Erica was pulling another box out from under the bed that resided next to the one full of magazines that we had sifted through the day before.
“This one’s my favorite,” she said, going over to the VCR. “Hey, there’s something in here…”
I edged toward the bed where she had tossed the hot pink vibrator, watching her eject the tape. I knew what was in there—I’d seen part of it the night before.
“Looks like Daddy was getting busy last night!” She snorted, putting the tape aside and sliding the other one in. “Remind me to put that back when we’re done.”
“Done…?” I inquired, sitting on the edge of the bed. I was in the very spot that Mr. Nolan had been last night.
“Don’t you want to play?” Erica pouted at me as the FBI warning flashed on the TV screen. The movie was starting. I shrugged, swallowing and glancing at the television. There was a girl lying on a bed reading a magazine as a young man came into her bedroom and started talking to her.
“Ugh, I hate the dialogue!” Erica groaned, grabbing the remote and fast forwarding. “Let’s get to the good stuff.” She sat on the bed next to me, pulling her t-shirt over her knees. “Here we go…”
I felt shy and embarrassed, watching the couple kiss and take each other’s clothes off on the screen. Still, I couldn’t stop watching. The girl was tiny and dark-haired, like me, slim hips and long legs, but full-breasted, her nipples the same light brown as mine. She was shaved between her legs, though, like the other girl in the movie.
“Mmmmmm isn’t that hot?” Erica murmured, watching as the dark-haired girl knelt in front of the guy and took his cock into her mouth. “I love doing that.”
I tore my eyes away from the screen to look at her. “You do that?”
She nodded. “Bobby absolutely loves it—he begs me to do it!”
I watched, fascinated, as the girl took more and more of his thick length into her mouth, her eyes turned up to him. She really looked like she was enjoying it.
“Don’t you choke?” I felt that gentle pulse beginning between my legs.
Erica smiled. “Guys kind of like that. Makes them believe their cocks are huge. Here, let me show you.”
She grabbed the vibrator, holding it up in front of her. “Like this… see how she played with it first… ran her tongue around the head…” I watched her demonstration, her tongue flicking around the pink tip. “Then you take it into your mouth…” Half of the shaft disappeared between her lips and I gasped.
“Well, you can’t do that your first try,” she admitted, wiping it off on her shirt and giving me a glimpse of her panties. “Here, you do it…”
“No,” I said, embarrassed, putting it back on the bed.
She sighed. “You don’t have to be shy. We’re both girls.”
The girl on the screen was still working the guy’s cock between her lips, but now she was cupping his balls, rolling them in her hands, and he was moaning like he really liked it a lot. The sound of his pleasure made my pussy throb with a sweet, dull ache.
“Tell you what.” Erica hopped off the bed. “I’m going to take a shower. You stay here and…do whatever you want.”
I ignored her wink, but as soon as the bathroom door closed, I settled back onto the pillow to watch. The girl still had the guy’s cock in her mouth, but he was sitting now, reaching down to cup her breast and pull at her nipple. She was using her hand, I noticed, at the base, so her mouth only went down on him about halfway.
Reaching for the vibrator, I held it up, tilting it back and forth. It was bigger than Mr. Nolan’s cock, I decided, and I found myself wondering how much of it I could take into my mouth. I touched it to my lips, making my mouth an “O” like the girl on the screen and sliding it slowly in. The gel it was made of tasted funny, but I pushed it as far in as I could before I felt like I was going to gag, marking the spot with my finger and pulling it back out. Halfway. Not too bad.
On the tape, the girl was on the bed now, her knees spread wide and pulled back so he could lay between them and lick her. Now I knew why it was Erica’s favorite. He was pushing his fingers deep inside of her while he licked, the camera getting a close-up view of his tongue moving back and forth over her clit. My pussy ached as I listened to her moan and I wanted to touch myself.
I could hear the shower still running and I pulled my skirt up and my panties aside, heading straight for my clit. I was surprised at how wet I was already—I had felt more apprehensive than aroused with Erica here, or at least, I thought I had. My body had different ideas. My pussy was swollen and slick and my fingers moved in easy circles around my clit.
“Lick it, yeah, faster!” the girl on screen moaned, playing with her own nipples as his tongue moved back and forth between her lips. I wondered again what that would feel like, someone’s mouth between my legs. The girl panted and moaned and rocked and really made it look like it felt incredible and I found myself imagining Mr. Nolan down there between my legs and flushed at the thought.
I couldn’t help remembering him laying right here, in this very spot, doing this very thing—masturbating while he watched those girls being fucked on TV. The memory of him rewinding to just the right spot and timing his coming with the guy on the screen made me feel warm and tingly all over, and I found myself wanting to see that scene again. That’s the scene I wanted to come to.
I hopped off the bed, stopping the tape and putting in the one Mr. Nolan had been watching last night. It was cued up to right after that scene, and I realized he must have turned it off at that point. Using the remote, I rewound it, finding that scene again—the two women lying on their backs, stacked one on top of the other, the guy between their legs like a kid in a candy store, trying to decide which pussy to fuck first.
It wasn’t really the scene—although it was exciting, seeing the girls spread open for him, watching his slick cock pull out and press in again—it was knowing that, for some reason, this was the scene that Mr. Nolan found exciting, this was the scene that pushed him over that edge. Knowing that was what pushed me over. I wanted to come at that same point, to some way relive the night before.
I could hear the shower still running, but I knew she wouldn’t be much longer. My fingers rubbed faster, watching the guy on the screen, his cock slipping up and down between their lips, first one, then the other. They were begging him again, “Fuck me… no, me!” fighting over that hard cock.
The vibrator was resting against my hip and I glanced down at it, curious. Would it get me there faster? I wondered. Already the guy on screen was pumping hard into the blonde on the bottom and the girls were kissing, sucking each other’s tongues. I heard the shower go off and I grabbed the vibrator, turning the knob on the bottom and making it hum.
Pulling my panties aside, I pressed the head of it against my clit. It was so intense that I pulled it away immediately, gasping out loud. My whole body buzzed with the sensation and, unable to resist, I nudged my panties aside again and found my clit with the vibrating pink head.
“Oh god,” I whispered, watching the scene on the TV through half-closed eyes, being carried away by the glorious sensation between my thighs. I’d never felt anything so good. My nipples hardened the minute I touched the vibrator to my pussy and I used my other hand to rub them through my blouse, moaning softly as the feeling between my legs increased even more.
On the screen, the guy was thrusting hard into the blonde, grunting and straining with the effort, and all I could think about was Mr. Nolan stroking his cock right here in this very spot, his body wracked with pleasure as he rewound this scene, right to this very moment. There it was—the guy pulled his cock out, groaning, “I’m gonna come!” and aimed it right for the dark-haired girl’s smooth lips.
“Oh me, too,” I moaned, the tingle between my legs full to bursting as I watched him shoot his cum between her spread-open lips. I closed my eyes, then, the image of Mr. Nolan shooting his cum filling my head, and then changing, morphing into the fantasy of him kneeling between my legs, pressing the head of his cock to my clit, just where I was rubbing the vibrator.
“Come all over me, Mr. Nolan,” I whispered, imagining his cum, thick and creamy, streaming hot, rhythmic blasts right against my pussy. I couldn’t hold back anymore, and the vibrator buzzing between my legs pressed me over the edge. Moaning and rocking, my whole body went with the sensation, the delicious tightening and release happening again and again as I rubbed myself with the head of the cock.
“Mmmmm, I bet that felt good.” Erica’s voice was right next to my ear and I gasped, flinging the vibrator onto the bed and pulling my skirt down. She was kneeling next to me, wrapped in a towel, her hair wet.
How long had she been there? I wondered. Had she heard what I said!? I couldn’t tell—her eyes were veiled, but she looked different, somehow, and was definitely looking at me in a way I’d never seen before.
“You changed the tape, huh?” she remarked, walking over and ejecting it, putting the other one back in.
“I… just…” Still breathless, I struggled to find words, feeling hot and flushed with both excitement and embarrassment. “Didn’t want you to forget to put that one… back in…”
“Ohhhhh yeah,” Erica breathed as she hit ‘play’ and moved toward the bed. It was still at the scene where the guy was licking the little dark-haired girl’s pussy. “This is my favorite part.”
She picked up the vibrator, still buzzing and wet with my juices, and lifted it to her mouth. I stared as she licked the head that had been pressed against my clit just moments ago.
“Have you ever tasted your own pussy?” she asked, crawling up next to me on the bed. I shook my head as she stretched out next to me on a pillow and opened her legs, the towel parting to reveal the soft blonde fuzz there.
“You should try it,” she whispered, moaning as she slid the head of the vibrator up and down between her lips. “God, look at how good he does that… watch his tongue… back and forth like that… right on her clit…”
I nodded, but I wasn’t looking at the screen, I was watching her, the toy moving up and down her slit and then focusing right on her clit as she rubbed it, like his tongue, back and forth. Her eyes were on the TV and I could watch her without her really paying attention. She spread her legs wider, the towel opening up to her navel, and I could see her working the buzzing vibrator between her legs.
“Did you put it inside?” Erica asked, not looking towards me as she licked her lips, her eyes glued to the screen. I didn’t answer her, but I watched as she slid the pink head down between her lips and my whole body flushed as it started to disappear between them. She was putting it inside of her!
“I bet a real cock would feel even better,” she whispered as she moved the shaft in and out of her pussy. I could see it pressing past the pink folds of her flesh and coming out wet with every stroke. “God, I want to be fucked.”
On the screen, the girl was up on her knees, reaching around to open herself up, waiting to be filled. The guy’s cock was straight-up hard as he rubbed it up and down her slit.
“Yeah, fuck me,” Erica murmured, and she was fucking herself deep and hard, the pink shaft disappearing almost to the hilt. I was fascinated, watching it disappear into her pussy, remembering how good that humming felt between my legs. My own pussy was responding again, tingling with feeling, and I slipped my hand under my skirt as I watched her, shoving my panties aside to get to my clit.
“Oh that’s so good,” she whispered, her hips rocking on the bed, the towel parting as she twisted and rolled, falling off completely. I’d seen Erica naked a hundred times, but not like this, never like this. Her pink nipples were pursed and hard, her breasts swaying as she thrust the dildo deep inside of her. She reached up to play with one, pinching and tugging and biting her lip, her eyes half-closing in her pleasure.
My pussy was swollen and the pair of Erica’s panties that I had put on was soaked, and still I couldn’t stop touching myself, rubbing faster and faster as my eyes flicked from the screen to her, watching her fucking herself and imagining how good it must feel. She moaned louder, her hand moving between her legs, and she grabbed the remote off the bed, hitting the ‘fast forward’ button.
“Watch this part,” she whispered to me, not looking away from the TV as she hit the ‘play’ button a moment later. I glanced at the screen, where the guy was pounding the dark-haired girl from behind. The girl was moaning, matching Erica’s noises, and the guy was groaning, too, as he slammed into her again and again. I could hear a tightness in his voice, something tense and waiting to be let go.
Erica had slipped the wet shaft out of her pussy and was rubbing the pink head over her clit, whimpering and moaning as she played with her nipples. I had an urge to lick one, and the thought made me feel faint, but I rubbed myself faster, my breath matching hers, both of us gasping and panting. The guy on the screen pulled out of the pussy that he was fucking so hard, grunting and groaning with pleasure as he started to come.
“Ohhhhhh I’m coming!” Erica cried, the bed shaking with her orgasm, her body trembling as she rubbed herself with the vibrator, her eyes never leaving the screen where the guy was pumping his cock in his fist, shooting his cum in long, hot jets up over the raised ass of the girl. It fell in thick strands, some pooling in her lower back, most of it beginning to drip down the crack of her ass toward her pussy.
Seeing it dribble down her asshole, a slow river of cum beginning to part the pink folds of her pussy, was too much for me. I came, too, biting my lip to keep from crying out as my body trembled with my climax, jerking and bucking with it, my thigh brushing against the soft skin of Erica’s leg, the sensation making my orgasm even more intense.
Erica had turned off the vibrator and was stroking her belly and thighs with her hands, her eyes still-half closed. I grabbed the remote and stopped the movie, the sight now almost a visual assault, too intense in the wake of my climax.
“You were right,” Erica murmured, looking at me. “You told my dad we’d be good—but that wasn’t just good… it was fucking fantastic.”
I stood up, pulling my skirt down. “Listen, I should get home and change.”
She frowned, leaning up on her elbows. “You wanna hang out later?”
“Call me.” I turned so she didn’t see how red my face was getting as I headed toward the door.
The images I’d seen over the last twenty-four hours—the magazines, the movies, Mr. Nolan masturbating, Erica playing with her vibrator—flashed through my head as I walked home. I knew that I could never unimagine them—and the scariest thing was that I found that I didn’t really want to.
Chapter Three
“Bless me father, for I have sinned…”
Those were the words I was dreading. I couldn’t say them. Mass was extra long today, and every word sounded like a pronouncement that I was going to hell. The girls crowded around outside the confessional, talking in small groups and snapping their gum. We were supposed to be standing in a quiet line saying the Rosary, but Sister Abby had taken someone to see Mother Superior and we were momentarily without supervision.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Erica. She was sitting against the wall, her knees up, with a copy of one of the Gossip Girls tucked into her geography book. I could see her panties—which wasn’t unusual, in an all-girls school where we were required to wear skirts, we often got careless—but it made me remember yesterday in the worst way.
“Do what?” She didn’t look up from her book.
I nudged her hip with one of my Mary Jane’s, hissing: “Confession!”
She looked up then, puzzled. “Why not? Swearing, lustful thoughts, self-flagellation, blah blah blah, thirty Hail Mary’s and ten Our Father’s later, and you’re all set. What’s the big deal?”
I stared at her, blinking and speechless.
“Well fine.” She stood and brushed off the back of her skirt. “Then let’s make like Casper.”
“Cutting class?” I groaned. “Adding yet another sin to my growing list? Not helping!”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “So you’re ready to go in there and tell Father Michael about our little porn-watching session yesterday?”
“Shhhh!” I put my hand over her mouth, looking over at the group of girls closest to us to see if they’d heard anything. “You’re evil!”
“Perfect timing.” She glanced around. “Sister Abby’s gone, and I know I’m not up for one of Sister Helen’s usual lectures on the Church’s revisionist history—I don’t care what they say. Jesus was clearly a Jew.”
The confessional door opened behind us and I sighed as another girl went in. I couldn’t—I just couldn’t. It wasn’t just that we had looked at the magazines and watched the movies, or even that we’d masturbated together. That was bad enough, but sitting in the dark and telling Father Michael the thoughts I was having about Mr. Nolan!? No way… the prospect made me feel weak with dread.
“Okay,” I agreed, grabbing Erica’s arm. “Let’s do it.”
“Leah!” It was Erica’s turn to sound shocked. “Seriously?”
I nodded, grabbing my backpack off the floor, saying loudly, “Let’s go to the bathroom.”
Erica snickered as we left the church proper and went into the breezeway. “Good cover.”
“I’m no expert,” I agreed. “So how do we get out without being seen, Houdini?”
“Follow me,” she said, and I did, down the corridor and through a door.
“Where are we?”
“Storage room.” She made her way through a maze of shelves with all sorts of vestments, candles and candle lighters, and statues.
The whole nativity scene was stacked into a corner, the baby Jesus wrapped in a shroud in the manger. The oddest thing was the hundreds of boxes full of heavenly host. I stared at them as we passed, looked at the stamped sides: Cavanagh Communion Hosts 1 1/8”, marked either with “white” or “wheat” flavor.
Erica grinned back at me when she saw me looking at the boxes. “Do you think Christ was white or wheat?”
“You are so going to hell.” Still, I couldn’t help grinning, too. We were nearing a door at the back of the room and she pulled it open, heading down a dark flight of stairs.
“Where are we?” I felt my way down, holding onto the railing.
“Church basement, now.” She waited for me at the bottom. “Bobby meets me here sometimes.”
“Oh my God!” I gasped, mentally adding my taking the Lord’s name in vain to my list of sins for the week. It was a small trespass, considering. “He’d be shot on sight if they found him!”
“No one finds him,” she assured me as I followed her through the dark basement. There were small windows near the top of the concrete walls that let in a little, shadowy light.
Around the corner, Erica pulled open another door and waved me through.
“What is this?” There were cots all along each side of the long, narrow walls of the room we stepped into.
“Old storm cellar-slash-bomb shelter, I think.” She started up the ladder to our left and pressing on the door above her head. “Either that, or this is where they do all the experiments on the really bad kids.”
I snorted, following her up the ladder and waiting as she pressed at the door. We were in our uniforms, of course, and I could see right up her skirt from this angle and the flash of white panties made me remember yesterday.
“They leave this open?” I winced at the brightness as she finally heaved the door open with a little grunt of effort.
“Bobby broke the lock.”
I shook my head, incredulous, as she gave me a hand up and swung the door shut again. We were standing just outside the brick wall that surrounded the entire school, making it like some prison fortress. The storm cellar was a slanted thing made of long planks and painted brown to blend in with the brick.
“And we’re home free.” She grabbed my hand and swung it. “Let’s go to my house and do something we’ll have to confess later.”
“I’m boycotting confession.” I glanced over my shoulder as if someone might be watching us.
“Come on, there are yummy rewards for being bad.” She squeezed my fingers. “We don’t even have to miss the first fifteen minutes of General Hospital today!”
She had a point. We made good use of that last hour that we should have been in school, stopping by the corner store and picking up two Hershey’s, a bag of chips, and two Mountain Dews and then curled up on Erica’s sofa and pigged out while we watched the entire episode of GH without interruption. It was a real treat.
Erica flipped the TV off and stretched, her blouse pulling out of the waistband of her skirt, revealing her tummy. “Whatcha wanna do now?”
“We should do homework,” I answered, my head filled with the memory of watching her play with her vibrator. I tried to push the thought away, but I couldn’t when she sat cross-legged in her skirt, her panties clearly visible underneath.
“Now, what kind of fun would that be?” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re gonna skip school, you gotta make it worth it!”
“Well… you should show me more of your dad’s collection.” I couldn’t believe it was me who mentioned it first. I’d sworn I wasn’t going to even think about it, let alone ask about it.