Diary Of A Horny Student Ch 07

I awoke late Saturday, full of conflicted feelings. Lying there awake I tried to organize the events of the previous night in my mind.

Steph, my step-sister's best friend, had been my date for the prom and, after an astounding display of erotic dominance, had sucked my dick in the limo. It was my first ever blowjob. She swallowed my cum, and then vanished, implying that she and I were not finished yet.

Christine, my friend from church, the pastor's daughter, had secretly watched the whole thing, and later intimated to me that maybe she had been there before herself.

However, despite those stimulating, erotic happenings, my mind was on Tara. In a moment of youthful stupidity I had put my foot way deep in my mouth, and I had deeply hurt one of my best friends. My mind may have been racing regarding everything going on, but the one thing I knew for sure was that I needed to make things right with her, above all else.

As I took my morning piss, my eyes peeked through the blinds, and over at the bedroom window of my next door neighbor Sarah. There she sat, my biggest crush, brushing her wet hair, a towel wrapped around her. It wasn't the first time I had seen her like this, and my mind traveled back to last week, when Tara and I had shared a hot masturbation session watching Sarah drop her towel and get fucked hard by a mystery man, right there on her bed. I had watched the girl at the center of my most intense infatuations get her back splattered with spurting semen, yet the thing that put me over the edge that day was watching Tara, right next to me, finger herself to orgasm. We had shared a moment, and I don't think I truly appreciated what it had meant for either of us.

Heading downstairs I found no sign of my step-mom Kelly, just a note stuck to the side of the fridge. "Went for a hike with Sandy, Don, and Brian," the first part of it read.

Brian. She had been spending a lot of time with Brian lately. I didn't know much about him, but I knew what his cock looked like, as I had not too long ago seen Steph's mom Sandy on her knees with it in her mouth while her husband Don videotaped it. I wondered briefly if Kelly had seen that cock yet. Felt it. It was a fleeting thought though, as I knew Kelly, and in the years since my dad died she had hardly been on a single date, and spent much of her social time at church events. She surely wasn't the type.

Although, I had been learning a lot recently about what church types could really be like, so who's to say what she was capable of.

Reading the second part of the note, I stopped mid-bite of my apple. It wasn't the casual, "Love you - Kel" that she signed it with, but the bit that preceded it. The bit that said "Steph asked if you'd be able to pick her up from work tonight."

The previous night's scene flashed across my mind. In a blatant power move, Steph had made me atone for eavesdropping on her sounds of orgasm by making me take out my cock and jerk off for her. As nervous as I was, the confidence she displayed in her dominant tone turned me on intensely. What I hadn't counted on was her finishing me off inside her hot mouth.

On her knees in front of me, breasts bared, it was a position traditionally seen as submissive, but as my hot cum launched into her mouth, there was no question who was in charge.

Then, her last words to me before disappearing, "you've still got a lot to make up for, and I'm not done with you yet," echoed in my mind. This girl had gone from my childhood tormentor to a friend, to...whatever this was now...and I found the mystery of the unknown in front of me both terrifying and intensely arousing.

But there was still Tara.

I called, and I texted, but there was no response. I honestly didn't expect one, and probably didn't deserve one. I thought about how jealous I had felt seeing her re-enter the dance with Bud Pepper on her heels. The thought that they had hooked up again ignited something in me that I wasn't ready for. I knew Tara was experienced, and not someone who shied away from her own carnal desires, but it had never bothered me before. It was only a few weeks ago that she had told me about her last encounter with Bud in graphic detail, recounting the specifics of his huge cock and the blow job that left her drenched in his cum, and I found it nothing but arousing.

But I also knew that she left that encounter feeling degraded, and maybe that was part of it. Maybe seeing her respond to my equally degrading comments by running back to someone like that made me feel shame. Shame because we had shared a moment, electric and alive, orgasmic and pure, and I had ruined it by essentially calling her a slut. I cared about Tara, perhaps more than I realized, and I think maybe she had felt the same way. Until I ruined it.

I needed to clear my head. I needed to go for a run.

I was stretching on the front steps, head hung between my legs, my mind still in turmoil, when I heard Sarah's voice come from behind me.

"You going running? she said. Bouncing back up I turned to meet her. Clad in a hot pink sports bra, tight, mid-thigh leggings, and white sneakers, she was putting her damp red hair back into a ponytail.

"Yeah, great day for it, and I definitely need it," I responded, switching my stretch

"Yeah, me too, especially after last night," she said offhandedly. Her hair was damp from the shower. Why was she going for a run AFTER a shower? Maybe she had just wanted to wash off all the makeup and hair product she had been covered in for the prom, but as she turned to stretch and I saw the flare of her curvy backside, I thought about what I had witnessed through her bedroom window the other day. I wondered if maybe she felt the need to wash something else off her body too.

Now, I may have been a mental wreck, between thinking about Tara, Steph, and Christine, but I wasn't too blind to see an opportunity with the girl next door, the girl who I had spent most of my adolescence up to this point fantasizing about.

"You want some company?" It was an innocent opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless.

"Yeah, sure," she exclaimed invitingly, "lead the way!"

We headed off down the road, and I introduced her to my usual path through backstreets, over old train tracks, through the wooded bike path toward the lake.

We didn't say much as we ran, both of us focusing on pace and our breath. When Sarah would pull ahead, I couldn't help but admire her body as it worked. Her cute bouncing ponytail, her firing back muscles, her round ass packaged lovingly in tight spandex.

Staring at her ass, it was then that I wondered if she knew, If any girl knew, how often the men they crossed paths with emptied their balls fantasizing about them. How behind even the most innocent of conversations was most likely at least one furious stroke session picturing all the lewd acts they could possibly perform. I'm sure even Christine's father, the pastor of our church, had pictured a member of the congregation, maybe Sandy, maybe my step-mom Kelly, hell, maybe even Rachel, on her knees for him alone on the occasional lonely night. Fleeting thoughts that lead to momentary release, and then disappear into the ether of a cleared mind.

I had pictured Sarah's ass, the ass bouncing in front of me, many times, naked, arched up in front of me, her wet pussy dripping in anticipation of me sliding my hard cock inside. I had pictured her large, perfect tits wrapped around my cock as I fucked them. Pictured her body writhing around me as she spasmed in orgasm. Pictured her contented smile as she stroked my cum all over her face and neck and breasts.

But that was fantasy, and this was real, and in this moment, those fantasies were nowhere in my mind. We were just two people enjoying a run. But I knew, later on, that the person would fade, and the fantasy would return. I would stroke, I would cum, and then it would be gone. Until the next time.

Reaching the upper swell of the lake, we both stopped for water, and to stretch. No longer focused on the exertion at hand, we talked about the only thing we knew we had in common at that point.

"So, two dates last night, huh?"she pulled her right arm across her ample bosom with her left in a stretch. "How'd that go?"

I gave a dismissive snort. "It was...something," I said, mind drifting back to the night before, "I came with two and left with none."

Technically I came with two, one made me cum, and left with none, but hey who's counting, right?

"What about you, how was your night?" I asked, cordially.

"It was...fun. It was a fun time." she said, rather conditionally.

"Bill seems..." --like a bit of a dickhead-- "...nice," I continued, "is he your boyfriend?"

"I...don't know, honestly," she mused, switching arms in her stretch, "we've been kind of on again, off again for a long time, and he's a good time, but...I don't really think he's my type."

My cock twitched. I knew exactly what she meant by a "good time."

"Besides, with college starting so soon, I don't think I want any attachments, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, bending my knee into a long quad stretch. "So how do you know Steph?" I lobbed, knowing the answer full well.

"She lives next door, obviously, so we've hung out from time to time." Again I knew exactly what she meant, and felt a stirring in my loins.

"Do you know..." I paused, contemplating whether or not I wanted things to get heavy. I chose to let it ride. "...why she left last night?"

"She's a tricky one." Sarah bent over at the waist, hoisting her ass up in a way I had seen in my fantasies many times. "She has a hard time getting close to people. Are you into her?"

The girl had just sucked my soul out through the tip of my penis, of course I was into her.

...Right?

"We have a complicated relationship" I offered up.

Sarah just nodded silently. "Get used to it"

My mind drifted at that point, and all the revolving elements that I was literally running from started to coalesce again.

"Race you home!" Sarah exclaimed, almost as though she could tell I needed a distraction. We headed off toward home.

Exhausted but happy, we sat on the front stairs of her house, chatting over some much-needed, ice cold waters. This girl had been in my fantasies for years, and this was by far the longest conversation I had ever had with her. We laughed, commiserated over school, learned what music and movies we agreed on, and just generally enjoyed each others company. She was a great person.

As we stood up to part ways, she turned back toward me momentarily, and said something no one had ever said to me before: "Hey, there's some people getting together at The Spot tonight." my heart skipped a beat. "You should come."

I contained my inner excitement as I got the first, and probably last, party invitation of my high school career. "Yeah, totally. Sounds good!" I managed to squeak out, playing it as cool as possible.

Sarah smiled, gave me a "see you then," and headed inside. I thought about how nice she was as I made my way back into my own house.

Minutes later, during my badly needed post prom, post run shower, I thought about how nice it would be to fuck her hard from behind, like Bill did. To feel her quiver and shake in orgasm, like Bill did. But unlike Bill, when it was time, she'd roll over, chest heaving from heavy breaths, and push her large breasts together just in time for me to paint them with my cum. Collarbone to pubic bone, this goddess of my fantasies was streaked with the contents of my two aching balls as her diaphragm grew and caved in breathless lust.

I grunted as I stroked myself under the hot water. I came.

I wondered if she knew.

Despite being a very reasonable distance away, the drive to Steph's work felt long and arduous. I tried Tara again, but no answer, so of course she was all I could think about as my car cruised on. By the time I got to her coffeeshop I had practically forgotten why I was there in the first place. I had momentarily forgotten the stunning blow job and the promises of debts still yet to be paid.

Parking in the lot, I texted Steph to tell her I had arrived. Moments later my phone buzzed with her response: "come inside."

It was odd, but still innocuous, so thinking none of it, I made my way inside the shop. The sign on the door said closed, and peering through the window presented me with the low light and upturned chairs of a closed establishment, but the door wasn't locked, so I went inside.

The shop was quiet and empty, and the inviting smell of fresh coffee had been replaced by the vague aroma of cleaning products. I looked around for Steph, but saw no one.

"Hello?" I asserted loudly. Standing in the silence of no reply, I heard movement coming through the door of the stock room that stood adjacent to the area behind the counter. A figure moved into the doorway--it was Steph. Lit from behind by the store-room bulb, it cast a golden halo around her golden hair, done up in a messy bun. She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms just beneath her breasts, breasts that rested comfortably inside her form-fitting, button down shirt. Her long legs glimmered, extending down from beneath a mid-length, black tennis skirt.

We stood in silence for a moment, until I offered a weak "Hi."

Goddamn she looked good.

She offered me no words in return, just a wry smile, an extended hand, and a single finger signaling me to follow her, before disappearing back into the store room.

I entered into the dimly lit room, and found Steph facing me, resting herself on a table at the far end.

Silence hung in the air between us again. I wondered if she ever played poker, as her mood was unreadable on her face as she looked at me. Arms still crossed across her breasts, her long legs stretched outward like a two lane runway.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" She said finally, still standing like stone.

It was a complicated question. At that moment I should have been thinking about Tara, about how I had hurt my friend, possibly damaging our relationship, but with Steph here in front of me, with those legs in front of me, my mind went immediately to the feeling of her hands stroking and coaxing my cock and balls, the feeling of her lips sliding up and down my shaft, to the hungry moan of approval she let out right before my cum flooded her mouth.

"Yes," I said, never taking my eyes off her.

"Then say what you need to say so we can move on."

I wasn't sure what she meant in any sense. It was a cryptic command, so I responded with what I thought I needed to say. "I'm sorry," I started, "for invading your privacy and--"

"No you're not," she said, cutting me off.

"I'm not?"

"No. You told me yourself how much you enjoyed it. How hard it got you. How it made you cum. You're not sorry for that, so why don't you tell me what you really want to say."

I was taken aback and off guard. I had not expected that reaction, and it made me unsure of what to say. What DID I really want to say? I thought about her, I thought about the time we had spent together over the past few weeks...I thought about last night.

"What I really want to say is...I really enjoyed the time we spent together recently, Steph. I loved getting to know you as a person, as more than just my step-sister's friend; getting to interact with you in a way that's not just trading barbs and blushing when you cut me too deep. Truth is, it killed me that I hurt you, because I was really happy that we had become friends, and I really want us to stay that way."

She took a moment to process my words, or possibly to test my resolve. Then, still silent, still stoic, she uncrossed her arms. The light of the store room cast the acute shadows of two hard nipples pressing through her shirt.

"What else do you want?" she said as she cocked her head to the side.

"I want to spend more time with you," I choked out.

"What else?" She repeated.

"I...want more of what happened last night," I confessed, my mouth starting to dry up.

"What else?" She repeated a final time.

"I want..." I paused before saying the ultimate and total truth as defined by that moment. "...you."

Her tongue snaked out across her lips as a wry smile formed. She had done nothing but stand there, and my cock was now rock hard. Then, slowly, each foot stepped out to the side, spreading her legs. It wasn't a lewd display, but it created a path. A path to forgiveness. A path to enlightenment.

Then, she offered up only two words, but those words struck me, compelled me, as though they were some sort of mystical command. The same two words that started us down this path last night in the limo. Two words. "Show me."

I don't even remember closing the distance between us, but the next thing I knew I had gone from yards away to inches away. Steph looked up at me, head still cocked to the side, lips parted ever so slightly. She smelled like coffee.

I felt her hands move to the hem of her skirt. My eyes traveled down her long neck, swirling in the hollow of its nape, traipsing over her collarbone. I paused momentarily on her breasts; they were perky and full, and sat inside her tight shirt in such a comfortable way that I didn't think she was wearing a bra. The shadows cast off her hard nippeles drew my eyes down again, over her tight stomach down to her skirt, where her thumbs idly stroked the hem.

Never taking her eyes off me, her hands slowly started to pull back, raising her skirt up her toned, smooth thighs. It was only an inch or so, but as each fraction appeared, my breath grew more ragged. The light poured shadow between her legs like a waterfall. I unconsciously licked my lips.

Bringing my gaze back up to meet hers, something had started to come over me. Some sort of hunger. My mouth was no longer dry, on the contrary, I began to salivate.

Looking at me through the tops of her eyes, she commanded me again. A slight sultry smirk slid its way onto her lips. She wet them both with her tongue, and through a languid whisper the words dripped their way out of her mouth: "Down, boy."

Totally entranced by the commands of this siren before me, I slowly sank to my knees without question. The stone floor of the store room felt cold and hard beneath me, but I paid it no mind. I stared into the dark shadow between her golden legs and licked my lips again. My hands found Steph's legs, and I ran my hands up their length instinctively, grasping the swell of her calves. I had never touched Steph before this point. She had obviously touched me, and I had given her the odd shoulder nudge or some other platonic clap or pat, but this was different; on my knees in front of her temple my hands grasped and rubbed at her calves not like a friend, but like a lover.

My breathing was ragged. My mouth was wet. My cock was iron. My trance momentarily broke as I felt a hand, her hand, slide up the side of my face. I tore my eyes away from the great unknown and looked up at this Amazon, this queen, before me. Her eyes locked on mine, her breasts rising and falling quickly as her own breath started to get away from her, the hand on my face snaked through my hair before landing just on the back of my head.

Our eye contact was unbreakable now.

I licked my lips one more time.

I felt gentle pressure from her hand on the back of my head.

I gave in to it and Steph drew my face into the shadow between her golden legs.

I smelled her warm musk, a scent unlike anything I had ever experienced. Something indescribable, yet undeniable, and after a journey that could have been inches, or could have been lightyears, I felt the tickle of Steph's pubic hair on my nose and upper lip, followed by the warm press of her skin against my mouth.

My tongue snaked out of its confines and instantly I felt the lips of her pussy. Steph's pussy. They were wide with arousal, and as my tongue began its exploration, I tasted the sweet, wet nectar that flowed from between them.