Tequila Rub
Getting fucked up after the 'Dear Jon,' treatment was absolutely mandatory, but to be so desperate that you had to get there by doing Cherry flavored Nyquil shots was pathetic. Worse still, Jon was such a lightweight that after six shots he felt buzzed, so buzzed that when his friend, Peter, switched him to non-alcoholic flu medicine, he didn't even notice.
Eighteen and constantly horny without a fake ID, a car or a girlfriend was six Nyquil shots short of useless ... and now he was there, tired and drunk and trying to persuade his body that it was not a good time for an erection which refused all attempts to be jerked off. As if after being pushed to the back of the bus for the last six years, his prick refused to be put down until it got pussy or Jon passed out from the pain of blue balls.
"Come to the party," Peter said, pulling on one of Jon's long thin arms to try to hall him off the couch. "I've got to go and I don't want to be there by myself. Not counting Jenny, I mean."
Jon bit off the automatic no. It wasn't like he had to be faithful to anyone. This was what eighteen-year-old guys did. For a while he'd thought it was more important to have a meaningful commitment, to love a woman and be loved by her, and to spend half his time with a family that already treated him as a son-in-law. He'd been wrong. The only thing important to an eighteen-year-old was fucking.
Peter stared at him waiting for his answer.
Jon shrugged. "Yeah. What the hell."
"Jon." Steeled for a long argument, Peter just looked at his friend stupidly for a couple seconds. "Great... Man, this is gonna be good for you ... you're going to meet a girl there that's twice as hot as Karen. Racked, stacked and packed. This is awesome." He threw back another Nyquil shot. "But before we go, you better put that away..." Peter said, nodding at the bulge in Jon's pants.
Fifteen minutes later Jon and Peter were waiting outside, their clothes damp from the run they had taken to cool off Jon's erection. After jogging in place for another minute, Peter grabbed his cell phone.
"Jenny, where the hell are you?" After listening for a second, Peter rolled his eyes. "That was half an hour ago... huh... No. No. I told you that Jon's coming with us tonight. He's right here and ready to go."
Peter made sock puppet motions with his free hand as his forefingers and thumbs chattering together at breakneck speed. His sigh was pure frustration. "Yes, but... BUT... Would you stop talking for a second? I don't care. If we have to we'll take two trips." He listened for an extended time. "How far away are you away...?" Peter stopped as he heard the far off sounds of yelling and a thumping bass line.
Jon wished that Peter's girlfriend had taken longer because despite the run Jon's prick was not totally dead. It hurt now, part of a case of blue balls he'd had off and on for the last eight hours. Shit, this might be his prick's last real hope for company for two weeks. More than just a chance at getting off, this end of summer party was his last shot at doing the normal highschool thing before going to college. Or -- just as good -- it was his last highschool party and no matter how stupid he acted in two weeks he'd be 200 miles away.
Jon adjusted his underwear just as a fifteen year old BMW leaking some sort of loud thumping music came screeching up the driveway. As it pulled up, he could see it was already full. The front side passenger window rolled down and the shriek of heavy metal music poured out. A drunk blonde pixie pushed her head out the window and stared at Peter hungrily. "Pimp daddy, your slut is here! You ready for me, baby!" As she jumped out of the car, the girl's black leather mini-skirt rode up flashing them a shot of bright pink panties.
"Baby girl, I'm always ready!" Peter said, holding his arms before Jenny jumped into them. After a second he let her go and scrambled into the car. With a little whoop of excitement, Jenny climbed in and settled on his lap. The driver, Jenny's 16-year-old brother David, turned the music louder trying to ignore Peter and his sister's games of grabass.
"Jon, go around to the other side," Peter said, motioning with his hand.
Swinging around to the other side Jon almost ran into the woman getting out a cool brunette in her mid 20's dressed in a silky white blouse and dark blue skirt. At the sight of the woman, Jon's prick stuck its head out of the sand, quivering between what it wanted and what it could have. Jon bit his lip hard using the pain to distract him enough for his prick to slump back to dormancy.
"GET IN ALL READY," Peter yelled from the other side of the car. "JON! JON, THIS IS JENNY'S SISTER, LEAH."
"Nice to meet you ... " Jon said, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise coming from the door.
"We'll get introduced later ..." Leah yelled and grabbed his hand. Jon wanted to enjoy the touch, but it was all business. She pushed him into the car, settled him down and perched herself on his lap. Before the door closed the BMW lurched into motion.
Getting inside Jon brushed against the sleeping couple on the other side of the backseat. The girl sitting in the guy's lap was half slumped against the front seat, snoring noisily, no doubt helped by the mostly full tequila bottle lying in her lap. The girl's blouse was half open and the guy's hands were caught inside the cups of the girl's shiny black bra.
Gesturing at the couple, Leah leaned back putting her mouth up against his ear. "I forgot what high school was like." Though there was nothing special in her manner just the feel of Leah's lean, wonderful form against Jon was exciting him. She had a sprinter's body: toned arms, beautiful small breasts, a taut stomach, muscular thighs and a largish, rock hard ass.
Jon nodded his head and then pushed his head close to her ear. "You're in college?"
"Yeah. Kind of. I'm in Grad School. Political Science," she said, leaning even closer to his ear until her breath tickled him whenever she pronounced an 's.'
Jon nodded again. To ease her neck strain, Leah turned sideways on his lap jamming her feet up against the car door. She leaned even closer and the almost invisible hairs around his ears shivered with her every breath.
"Sorry about talking so close to your ear, but I strained my voice yelling at Jenny and David on the way over here." Now every syllable made his ear tingle.
Jon's typical unease when speaking to beautiful women asserted itself. Or maybe it was just the Nyquil buzz and Leah's warm body combining to make it impossible for him to concentrate on anything but the whisper of mint that lingered with Leah's words .
"So...Grad School... You working on your thesis yet?"
She flashed a conversational smile. "Just started. I'm preparing myself to spend the next four months buried in a library ..."
He was not listening to her as much as feeling the rhythm of her breath. In spite of this he found himself asking her questions and laughing at things she said, going on automatic. It was her green eyes and soft chin and pale red lipstick and the stray curl of dark hair hanging over her ear that mattered. Anything that would make it possible for him to be something more than a booster seat to her was walled off to the rational part of his mind that was talking.
Leah was lost in her own world. "I know the Carter administration probably means nothing to you. It's like people think they're clever saying he was a bad president but a great ex-president ..."
As she became passionate about her subject, Jon felt a symmetry of words and actions, her body tensing and relaxing, bouncing and stilling with every sentence. It was the disruption of this symmetry that brought him out of his daze as Leah bounced high and then became still.
His prick had been steadily growing, slowly standing to attention and into contact with Leah's firm ass. Even though he enjoyed the contact, he started to feel the return of his case of blue balls.
