So We Have a Little Staler

A couple weeks later:

The things we were worried about happening after the woods incident, just didn't. We did notice when we were making out around school that we occasionally had a shadow with squeaky shoes. I saw her hair and foot once as she ran away. Not enough to confirm it was who I thought it was, but enough that we had a pretty good idea. This continued for a couple of weeks, during which time our horniness and boldness only grew by leaps and bounds. I didn't fully understand my attraction to Amanda. She wasn't super-hot, but when she got going, I just couldn't control myself. I had to have her. And she seemed to feel the same way.

One afternoon we were back in the woods about to go at it again when the snap of a twig breaking caused us both to freeze. I looked over my shoulder, scanning the tree line for the source of the noise when I saw a half silhouette of a girls head watching us from behind a tree. She was hunched over a bit with her arms crossed in front of her and as I strained my hearing, I thought I heard some slight whimpering sounds.

Amanda, eyes wide, stared at me incredulously as I sank my girth into her waiting pussy. She gasped as I entered her, then I wrapped her close to whisper in her ear.

"She's back there and I think she's playing with herself."

"Really!?" She hissed through clenched teeth, not sure how to respond. "Shouldn't we stop!?"

"Hell no, I say we give her a show!" I punctuated the last with a hard thrust of my hips.

"Ungh! O-okay!" She grunted out her acceptance and I directed her onto her side where I slid in from behind, leaving her top leg up to expose her completely as I re-entered her in one smooth, swift motion.

"Oh my god! All at once!" She gasped.

I set a steady pace I knew would allow us both to enjoy each other while still getting her off inside of a reasonable timeframe. I could tell I was doing my job by the increased frequency of "oohs and aahs" that spilled from her mouth. Later she would confirm she was playing it up a little for our potential audience which made me laugh. I held back on my own orgasm as she reached her first pussy quivering eruption. I'd made it a habit to give her at least two for every one of my own. Had to set standards, right?

"Uuuuuumph! Ha! Ah! Mmmmmm!" Amanda grunted out in satisfaction.

"Oooooooooommmmmmph! Fu-ugh!"

Amanda and I stared at each other wide-eyed in shock, then quickly looked back into the woods where that squeaky voiced yell came from.

The shadowy figure froze, clearly looking straight at us despite being obscured, then she burst out of the woods in fright. As she cleared the bushes, the sun hit her face, confirming to us both that our stalker was Linea. I frowned for a moment as it looked like she was crying when she fled, then Amanda's giggle brought me back to the task at hand.

"Now we know for sure! I'm just mad it wasn't Rachel!" She laughed.

Rather than let me continue fucking her, she pushed me onto my back and let me finish in her mouth. She later confided that she was concerned about pregnancy and had begun tracking her cycle, so she knew when she was at risk and not. As I didn't want to wear condoms or have kids yet, this seemed completely fair in my mind.

Linea didn't come to practice for a few days. When she did, she avoided me like I was the actual fucking Anti-Christ. Though her face sure did turn three shades of red one day when we ran straight into each other coming out of the locker rooms into the pool. She stared at me, seeming mortified, and before I could apologize, she dove into her practice lane without a single word to be said. I stood there mentally scratching my head before shrugging my shoulders in indifference before stopping to stare at her pert behind.

What the hell is that!?

Now before I explain what I saw, let me tell you, I've always found her attractive. She had a shapely face, pretty smile, intelligent brown eyes and a slender kissable neck. Her breasts weren't large, maybe just barely a B cup, but they were shaped well and fit her thin frame. Her ass and legs, however, were understated masterpieces in my 18-year-old mind. She had a small, round, peach butt that flexed with each kick of her long milky white legs. She carried just enough tone in both to not overpower her femininity. So many times, in years prior, I had dreamt about being able to smack that ass and watch it bounce back. If she hadn't made it clear early on that she was all in on the big G, I'd have taken a shot at her. In light of recent activities, coupled with what I was looking at as she swam, I decided it was time to re-examine that line of thought.

As she swam back and forth, paddling her arms and kicking furiously, I noticed a slight bump nestled right between her butt cheeks. Now, maybe I was seeing things, but when she'd stop at the end of the lane and think no one was looking, she'd quickly adjust whatever was there. And at least once I thought I saw an eye flutter as she pulled at her suit in an attempt to better conceal whatever was going on back there. Of course, being a regular connoisseur of the smut isle at the local pharmacy (yes, nudey mags were sold at the pharmacy in the 90's where I lived), I had a pretty damned good idea what she was playing with.

I pondered for another moment how she goes from full on Jesus freak to anal aficionado, then just headed over to my lane to get my laps in before the coach got on my ass. My curiosity was running wild, leading me to look over at her every chance I could get, which made me obviously aware that she was checking me out now as well. Eventually I shook her from my mind and finished the swimming portion of my workout. I still needed to hit the weights, so I went upstairs to the gym where Amanda was waiting to cheer me on while I lifted. I quickly filled her in on my suspicions to which she listened with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Shit! Maybe I should ask her to borrow it!" she teased.

"Uh, that's kinda gross!" I laughed as I picked up a pair of dumbbells while she kicked her feet back and forth sitting on an empty bench. We kept our voices low while I worked out because there were several other team members on various machines.

"I'd clean it! Think of how it would feel while you fucked me!" She whispered in my ear as I finished a set.

"Hmm, that has potential." I teased back as she leaned in for a kiss.

"I gotta go soon. How long you have left?"

"Probably another half hour, maybe more."

She looked around at the other lifters, then smiled, "You know, maybe we should tell her she can watch whenever she wants."

I nearly dropped my weight when she said that "You serious!?"

She laughed through her infectious smile, "Yeah. You know I have fantasies! Honestly, I'd share even. She's cute." She stared down at me and time seemed to stand still.

"You're fucking with me right now!" This time I did drop the weight. My entire body went numb thinking of the possibilities.

She caressed my chest seductively, leaned in and kissed me, then laughed "No, dear. I think it would be fun. I even think it's possible. She clearly likes your cock." The last statement she accentuated with a quick grope that left me shifting my shorts. Some of the guys that were sitting out sets chuckled from the other side of the room, clueless to just what she said, but enjoying my discomfort. She left me scrambling as she went home for the night.

My mind now fully occupied, I completed my work out on automatic. I headed down the hall to the locker rooms chewing through the implications she left me with, when I passed by the girls' room, I paused for a second because something had tickled the edge of my hearing. I approached closer and heard someone crying inside the locker room. I looked around for a moment, trying to assess if anyone else was there, but it was almost 8pm. Girl's volleyball was over, and the cheerleaders had all gone home. The only ones left were the few diehards like me that were determined to make as many gains as they could before the end of their high school careers.

I might be a degenerate pervert who's only goal in life is to get my dick wet, but I wasn't so callous as to ignore the sound of anyone crying in a dark building by themself. I've seen that movie. Read that book. Heard that story. I don't know if I could be proud of myself if I didn't check in on them and I knew they were hurting. Just, you know, it was clearly a girl considering the source. I ran through the rolodex of my mind on any female member of the faculty that could possibly be here still that I could report this to and came up empty.

Yep. Nothing. Fuck it, worst case scenario, eh, I get suspended. Best case scenario I do a good deed. Likely I get screamed at and kicked back out.

I reached for the door handle gently, opened it slowly trying to make as little sound as possible. The lights were off, only the red exit lights providing any visibility. Once I had my head in the door, I heard the crying more clearly, coming from the back in small sobs. The layout was a mirror to the boy's locker room so I could tell the source was near the shower entrance. It was entirely surreal, but I was determined to at least see who was sobbing, so I made my way quietly to the last row of lockers and carefully peered around.

Sitting in the corner on the floor with her back against the lockers was Linea, tears and snot streaking her face. She was half dressed, hands still gripping the top of her pants which were only part way up her thighs. She had a plain white bra on but no shirt. Her body wracked in a series of extended sobs before she decided to finish pulling her pants up. This is when she looked up and noticed me standing there.

Her eyes flashed with indignant rage, then softened. She wrapped her arms around her chest and tried to turn her head away while still watching me through the locks of hair that fell over her eyes. The girl before me was no longer the one I knew. The indignant confidence and surety were gone. Only a young woman in a great amount of emotional anguish remained, too spent to even run me out.

We looked at each other for a moment before I decided to step closer and take a seat beside her. As I was passing an open locker, I noticed the gleaming metal butt plug sitting in the back of it surrounded with what looked like all the clothing she'd worn over the last couple days. She stiffened when she saw where my eyes went, though I don't know if she realized I'd seen 'everything', or just the unusual amount of extra clothes.

Once I sat down, she looked directly at me, mouth working silently, then buried her face into my muscled shoulder. The waterworks began immediately after. I pulled her in and let her get it out, whatever 'it' was. While a large part of me was eager to hear her story, as well as press her on some

other

interesting bits and bobs, I kinda knew it would have to wait until she calmed down.

After about five minutes, she finally pulled away from me enough to look up but didn't pull my arm off her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She apologized meekly.

"Uh, for what?" I asked, genuinely confused what she was apologizing for.

"You know." She blushed, "For following you and Amanda. For saying you were going to hell. For being so judgmental. For being hypocritical."

The last statement came out in a barely audible whisper.

"Hmmmm, there's a lot to unpack there. In your locker, too. Let's start there."

She looked away, still leaning against my thigh and began to tell her story. She didn't hold anything back, even mentioning the butt plug, blushing furiously when she did so. Apparently, she found that in her bathroom one night and, being the good Christian girl she was, had absolutely no idea what it was. So, she took it to ask her mom about it who she then walked in on getting railed from behind. And not from her father, but her pastor. To make it worse, the holiest of men she knew was doing the most taboo and forbidden deeds speakable by plowing her mom's ass. She of course told her father, who then informed her that if not for her and her sisters, they wouldn't be together now. Well, it seems she had a full-on meltdown, called Rachel, who came over to console her. She even took her in for a while, both their families thinking it a good idea to separate her from the environment for a little bit. Incidentally, that was the same afternoon they stumbled upon Amanda and I going at it. Things were starting to make sense and I stood to stretch my legs.

"So, I'm glad I was here for you, but why are you still here?"

"Rachel's mom walked in on me

sinning with myself.

" She turned away from me to find a shirt. I stole a moment to stare at her handful of cleavage before catching her return scowl in the dim red lighting.

"Huh. So, she kicked you out and, what, you've been sleeping. No. Living in the locker rooms? How long?"

"How'd you come to that conclusion so fast?" More bewildered by my insight than embarrassed by her admission.

"I was friends with them a long time ago, they punted Natalie's twin for having sex out of wedlock. So, you never stood a chance while in the middle of your unstable sexual awakening."

She stared at me speechless.

"So, how long?"

"Uh, since Tuesday." It was Friday.

"So anyway, get your shit packed up and meet me out front. I'm gonna change, then I wanna go home and get to bed."

I walked out, ignoring her stammering and spluttering about what I meant, or something about sin and such. I hollered back "I'm not leaving you here to spend the weekend on a cold bench. You can crash on my couch."

The door closing cut off her reply as I smiled to myself cheekily. See God, good deed for the week right there.

Linea's Perspective

Linea stared at the jumble of clothes in her locker as he left her frustrated, confused, though, somehow, far less scared than she'd been before he came in. She wanted to scream at him, but somewhere in the sobbing self-reflection she realized he wasn't to blame. The lie her parents had portrayed to her and her sisters of a happy, healthy, and Christian marriage was the real culprit. On the one hand, she understood why they continued, but now she wondered how many smiling family pictures were at least partly an act. A tear started to roll down her cheek before she wiped it and began stuffing her dirty clothes into her gym bag.

When she reached for the butt plug, she paused. The sight of her mother's cock stretched asshole forever burned into her mind. Follow that up with another interrupted sinful tryst and her mind was absolutely reeling with confusion, rage, and doubt. The two events played out in her mind nearly nonstop. If she was having an unstable sexual awakening,

he

was at least partly responsible.

She headed out into the school lobby to wait for him, equal parts trepidation and anticipation building in her stomach. Butterflies, her mother called them. Anger flared at the memory of how her mother acted about the affair she was caught in. Like it didn't even matter, like she should understand and accept her weak reasoning. They didn't love each other anymore, but they loved her and her sisters. But if they loved them, shouldn't she love Dad as well? It didn't make sense, and she'd prayed so much on it but hadn't received any insight when she needed it most.

The fight she had with her parents was completely unlike her. She'd never disrespected them. Never talked back. Never even considered what she did next, what she said and how she spoke to them.

"I CANNOT STAY! I WON'T! NOT WHILE THIS IS ALLOWED!"

She still had the butt plug in her hand when she grabbed her gym bag, stuffed clothes into it, and ran from the house crying. When she finally cleared her eyes enough to find a pay phone, she called the only friend she knew that would understand her. She explained what happened, what she'd seen, and they went to her mother who agreed to allow her to stay for a while. There were rules, as there should be. As long as she stayed in their house, she would be expected to act as their other children and expected to pitch in on the chores.

This went well for about two weeks, during which time both Rachels family and her own had tried to reconcile what had happened. She went to church with them, gained counsel from their pastors, then, secretly her attention would be drawn to the little silver bullet shaped object she kept in her purse. A tormenting pacifier. It was only a couple days after the incident in the woods that she had realized just what use it had and almost tossed it away on the spot. But curiosity overcame her revulsion.

One afternoon, after struggling through the day to pay attention in class, she found herself sitting in a bathroom stall staring at the little object. With tentative exploration she slipped her hand into her pants. She felt through the sparse patch of pubic hair that cut a natural triangle pointed straight to her clit. She had experimented with her body before; she knew what would happen if she stimulated this spot for too long. She didn't care for the thoughts she had then and sought understanding from God. Now she wanted to understand just what pleasure could turn her mother from the Lord. So, she slid her fingers gently across the outer folds of her thick labia, shivering at the sensations as her pussy quickly began to moisten.

More shivers ran through her body as she tentatively worked on the outer folds of her pussy. She had trouble containing the little gasps of sinful pleasure that escaped her lips, eventually wrestling her reactions down to a heavy pant accompanied by tiny whimpers. Sensing that she was wet enough, she took the little silver plug and attempted to slip it in, finding difficulty navigating around her labia. In a moment of fevered inspiration, she leaned back, used the fingers of her other hand to open herself, then gently pressed the object of her frustration inside her tiny canal.

For a moment her vision went blank, and the world went silent. She held it in place for what seemed like forever, groaning in disappointment when the bell rang signifying her next class was about to begin. She remembered the excited panic she felt that first time as she reluctantly pulled the device from her little pussy, pulled her pants and underwear back up and ran to class to not be late. Over the next few days, she experimented as often as she could.

She started looking for dark corners of the school where she could experiment without interruption, this is when she stumbled on one of

his

and Amanda's favorite places to make out. The first time she caught them was in an out-of-the-way stairwell landing. She peeked carefully around the corner, watching as they seemed to be fighting a battle with their tongues. She felt the rising heat of arousal between her legs along with a subtle tingling across her breasts. The feeling grew stronger the longer she watched, then spiked the moment Amanda reached for his belt buckle.

Linea remembers how meteorically the heat between her legs grew as she watched Amanda deftly work the clasp on his belt, then quickly unbutton his jeans. In the same second she reached into her own damp underwear, the other girl had removed his massive manhood to play with. Linea felt a pang of jealousy briefly rise up before being replaced by shame for thinking in such a way. It just wasn't very Christ-like. For a second, she considered stopping, then he slipped his hand past Amanda's soft belly to slide easily past the waist band of her skirt. She noticed the girl wore those more often lately, and now she understood why.

With her fingers already crawling towards her hot, damp sex, her resistance withered, and she plunged her own fingers into herself in time with the way he worked over Amanda. She can't remember clearly what happened next as she had trouble keeping her eyes focused as she worked in and out of herself, keeping time to the heated groping session she was peeping on. She felt her own pleasure rising in time with Amanda's, who was being borderline too loud she thought to herself. She suddenly felt weak in the knees as a quivering in her pussy began to rob her of her strength. Disaster struck when her foot slipped, squeaking loudly around the corner. Adrenaline spiked, restoring her strength as she sprinted away and ducked into the girl's locker room.