The week-end after my special Sunday with Annie I was still angry with her over the way she was treating my Baby Brother. I hated the way she teased and embarrassed him and more than a little jealous. I just knew that it was only a matter of time before she got into his pants.
And I was a little afraid of her. She scared me from time to time. Annie had a wicked side to her and I didn't always know whether or not to take her seriously.
My little brother, Teddy would be spending the next Saturday night with Annie's brothers again, which meant he would probably be alone with Annie on Sunday morning, once more. I was determined not to let that bother me. It wouldn't be the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. I just had to trust Teddy, I knew I couldn't trust Annie. Besides, I had a date.
A boy from my neighborhood, named Mick, had been chasing me since I was ten years old. I remember the day he threw my roller skates down the sewer. I cursed him and threw rocks at him. He told me he loved me and said he would marry me one day. I should have let him catch me years before, but I had spent my teen years in love with my cousin, Annie.
Mick asked me out again and finally I accepted. He was a "greaser", as were most of the guys from our neighborhood. During our high school days, the kids from the other side of town, which we called "cliques" called the guys from our side of town "hoods". It was a title they wore proudly. They wore their blue jeans tight, with their Lucky Strikes rolled up in the sleeves of their white t-shirts and their hair slicked back.
The kids from my neighborhood weren't above a little larceny. They stole some hubcaps and did a little shoplifting. Some were burglars and specialized in B&E. Some stole cars. Mick wasn't a thief at all. Mick was a fighter. He was a warrior with a tender heart; a gentle giant. Although he was one of the youngest, he was one of the biggest; just over six feet tall and weighing over two pounds. He was not quick to anger, but one did not want to be the object of his wrath. He would always defend the honor of his family, his friends and his neighborhood.
There were rivalries between the neighborhoods on our side of town, which resulted in the occasional gang fight, we didn't call them rumbles, this wasn't "West Side Story". Some of the guys carried switch blades, others carried home made shivs and zip-guns. In the event of a gang fight, Mick would wear his leather jacket, with a four foot length of chain in the pocket. That was his weapon of choice. Mick could kick some ass. He was well respected, in other neighborhoods, as well as ours.
There were those from our neighborhood that went on to be career criminals, but most got jobs or joined the Army. The guys continued to hang out together when they could. Mick took a job at a paper factory and would be leaving for the Army.
It was something of an honor, in my neighborhood to be seen with the "Cloverdale Gang". Their were the more respectable types; the scholastics, the athletes, the more industrious ones, in Cloverdale, but I tended to gravitate to the hoods. There I was clutching the muscular arm of 'The Kid', as Mick was called, hanging around 'Skeeter', 'Bones', 'Dirty Eddie' and all the rest, along with their girlfriends.
I felt a little out of place. The girlfriends all knew me from the neighborhood and we'd all gone to school together, but now I was trying to fit into their tightknit little group. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. Skeeter's girlfriend, Rosie, helped a lot. Skeeter was tall and thin with blond hair and a quick smile. He was the comedian of the bunch and Rosie was funny too. We had been in a lot of classes together at school, and had always gotten along.
We all hung out, that night, in the parking lot of the local swimming pool, which was closed for the day. Bones had a cooler full of beer in his trunk. We stood around drinking beer out of the can, listening to the car radios, while the guys bragged and swapped lies and the girls gossiped and talked trash about other girls.
After a while we climbed into the cars and cruised the drive-in restaurants, looking for a drag race or a fight. When that failed we went up to 'The Hill' that overlooked our little town and parked. Parking in those days meant making out in cars, or more, if the guys got lucky.
Mick and I made out in his '58 Buick. It was a totally new experience for me. I was accustomed to the soft, tender body and lips of my Annie. Even hugging and kissing Teddy didn't prepare me for the touch and feel of a real man. Annie's most aggressive approach didn't compare to the firmness that was Mick.
He was hard and muscular. Even his face had muscles. His lips and tongue were stronger. There was a roughness to the texture of the skin on his face. He smelled of leather, even though he had removed his jacket, Aqua Velva , Brylcreem, cigarette smoke and beer. It was so exciting.
Mick was a good kisser, a little aggressive and rough, but passionate. I was in the mood for a little rough lovin' that night, and I got more than I bargained for. Annie got a little rough some times, but she was just a girl.
After kissing for just a few minutes Mick had his hand on my breast. It felt good at first but he started coming on a bit strong, a little too rough. Soon he tried to put his hand up my blouse and I stopped him. Next he tried to slip his hand up my skirt and I had to stop that too. After all, it was just our first date. Mick got mad and took me home.
I went to my room knowing that Teddy wouldn't be visiting me that night. I knew that he was sleeping over with our cousins, Phillip and Henry. I knew that the brothers would go fishing, early the next morning, as they did nearly every Sunday, and Teddy would stay behind, as he had done for so long. I knew that he would be alone with Annie. I forgot all about that as I caught a whiff of the smell that Mick had left on me. His leather, his after shave, his musk. I could still taste him on my tongue. I almost regretted pushing him away, but I had my self respect and I hoped that he would respect me as well.
I turned on my radio and let the events of the evening drift through my head as I got undressed. The first song I heard was "I Get Around" by the Beach Boys. I'd heard that in Mick's car earlier, he had turned it up when it came on. Would that be 'our song' I wondered. No, not that one. It was still a cool coincidence.
It was such an exciting night, cruisin' with the gang, feeling tough and cool, staring down the "clique chicks" in their boyfriend's cars. I held my blouse to my face and inhaled a huge dose of Mick's cool. I got hot all over and my pussy was getting wet.
I lit a single candle and slipped between the sheets, completely naked. I remembered being held by a real man, as I ran my fingers all over my body. I remembered how Mick had handled my breasts and I squeezed and kneaded them as roughly as I could. I gripped my hot little pussy with my other hand and pushed two finger inside, pretending it was one of Mick's. I wanted so badly to feel Mick's cock inside me and to know the love a real man.
I began to imagine my fingers were Mick's big, hard cock, as I remembered kissing him. It was only a minute or two before I was cumming hard: shaking and sweating, hardly able to breath, barely able to pant out the sound, "Oh, Mick. Fuck me Mick!"
