Boy Meets Girl
Keywords: Girl, Boy, Meets,
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"What's her sister look like?" Dave Newell asked his brother.
"You've seen Steph. They're sisters."
Stephanie Johnson was a hottie, no doubt about that, Dave thought. Still, that didn't necessarily mean that her sister would be a looker. If Stephanie were from Venus, her sister could be from Uranus. Besides, he resented the last-minute's notice and the fact that Brad had told Stephanie that he'd date her kid sister without having bothered to ask him first whether he was interested in going out with the girl. He shook his head. "I should say no," he said.
Brad's hopeful countenance remained hopeful.
"But I won't."
Brad clapped him on the upper arm. "Thanks, Dave! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"
It was all set. Stephanie had made her acceptance of Brad's invitation to a dinner and a movie (and, hopefully, to a make-out session along the unpaved road that meandered through the copse atop the steep hill that the kids called Moonlight Drive) conditional upon Brad's finding a date for her sister, Jenny. For one of the few moments in their lives, Brad was glad he had a younger brother. Thanks to Dave's agreement to double with him and Stephanie, he'd be able to go out with one of the hottest recent grads of Baxter Prep, the arch rival of Brad's former alta mater, Delmar High, which Dave still attended, if only for the last few weeks of his senior year, just as Jenny was a senior at her sister's one-time school.
When Dave saw his date, he felt like the lecherous wolf in the old cartoons when the animal spies a curvy female character: his mouth seemed to gape as he drooled uncontrollably and his eyes seemed to launch from their sockets like spherical missiles attached to elastic nerves and muscles before springing back into place. He thought he might need to manually close his dropped jaw, the way the cartoon wolf did. Fortunately, he did none of these things. What he did do, instead, was stammer like an idiot as he introduced himself.
Jenny Johnson was every bit as gorgeous as her sister, Stephanie. She had blonde hair, streaked with yellow and orange so that it looked like wisps of fire, and her wide eyes, framed by long, luxuriant lashes, were azure, the color of a cloudless summer sky. A thin, straight nose led his gaze downward, past the high, apple cheeks, to lush, smooth lips, pink and soft as the petals of a rose. Silver earrings, set with Zircon "diamonds," dangled like miniature chandeliers from the lobes of her delicate ears. Her breasts were full, high, round, and firm, but, he knew, even without the evidence of his hands, they were also soft as pillows but sleek as silk or satin. The nipples were modestly small, but visible, surrounded by just a suggestion of their areolas, beneath the tight tank top she wore without a bra. Her bare midriff was suntanned and bronze, the tiny hollow of the inverted navel pierced with a silver belly ring. She wore a mini-skirt of silk or some other girly fabric that hugged her hips and displayed her perfect legs. A pair of simple black heels adorned her small, delicate feet. She was just as beautiful from behind, her derriere dull and round--and, Dave couldn't help but to think, inviting--despite her narrow hips. He'd hit the jackpot as much with Jenny as his brother had with Stephanie.
After dinner and a movie, they'd found a quiet, private place to park, on Moonlight Drive, the unpaved road that wound through a wooded mountainside that overlooked their community, Falls Hill. Spread out across the valley, the streets, houses, shops, and stores that were as familiar to each of them as his or her own name took on an unexpected glamour, as if it were a fairytale village wherein perfect people lived happily ever after, every woman was a lovely, kindhearted lady and every man a charming, handsome prince. Romance, Dave supposed, was in the air. His own warm, fuzzy feelings for Jenny made everything seemed more beautiful and glamorous than it would otherwise appear to be.
He and his date sat in the back seat of his brother's car, with Brad and Stephanie up front, which was fine with Dave, for he and Jenny had neither the obstacles of bucket seats nor the stick shift and console between them to contend with; they just had each other.
Jenny's warm, affectionate nature had emboldened Dave, who, nevertheless, found himself intimidated by her beauty, as the loveliness of girls always intimidated him. Despite the fact that Jenny had scooted across the bench seat as soon as Brad had parked the car, sliding close, so that she sat shoulder to shoulder, rib to rib, and hip to hip against Dave, and rested her soft curves and trim weight against his firmer, more angular frame, she still had to initiate the action between them, which made Dave feel foolish and boyish--but only for a few awkward moments. Once her dainty hand lit upon the column of his thigh, as a bird might light upon a branch, lust welled within him, his cock stirring, and he forgot to be awed by her beauty.
They turned toward one another, Jenny's hand gliding up the polyester fabric of his slacks, feeling like a warm current, to cup the mound of his balls and his swelling cock. She gave his genitals a gentle, friendly squeeze, as if she were making their acquaintance.
He returned her favor, letting his own palm glide along the silken flesh of her thigh. Her hand stopped him before he reached the silk panties she wore beneath her mini-skirt.
Their faces were close, mere inches apart, and she stared deeply into his eyes. He wasn't certain of the emotions they reflected. Did he see, in her gaze, love, passion, invitation--or were these feelings simply his own, projected onto her?
Her lips met his, and, before he knew it, they were kissing.
At first, the kiss was just a nuzzling of their lips; in a few moments, their lips parted, and their tongues penetrated one another's mouth, probing and swirling the wet, liquid interior. Jenny's hand squeezed his thick, hard cock, leaving him no doubt of her intentions, and Dave located her nearer breast, cupping the soft-firm mound beneath the halter top, and noticed that she, too, in her girly way, was erect and ready. Although small, her nipples were hard points beneath the thin fabric.
Dave slid his hand along Jenny's thigh again. As before, she allowed him to caress the length of her upper leg--until he got close to her panties. Then, her smooth hand intervened.
"No," she whispered,
"Why not?" he whispered back.
"No," she repeated.
Dave sighed. Women! he thought. If he lived a millennium, he'd never understand them. Jenny's contradictory signals were puzzling; they were also frustrating. If she weren't such a babe. . . .
He kissed her neck. She didn't resist.
She allowed him to plant a row of kisses down the side of her throat.
She hadn't put her breasts off limits, at least. He squeezed the twin of the one he'd been caressing before he'd slid his hand up her thigh and been rebuffed upon reaching the thin fabric that shielded her sex from his hand.
"Wait," she whispered.
What now? Dave wondered. He withdrew his hand from the soft-firm mound, and she shifted away from him.
Leaning forward, she removed her halter top.
"My God!" Brad exclaimed from the front seat. He'd caught a glimpse in the rear-view mirror of Jenny's magnificent breasts. Full, round, high, and soft, yet firm, with erect pink nipples surrounded by puffy rosebud-areolas, they were the same golden tan as the rest of her superb body, indicating that she suntanned not only often, but all over as well.
"What are you looking at?" Dave challenged his brother.
"Nothing," Brad replied, lowering his gaze from the rear-view mirror.
With satisfaction, Dave saw that his brother's assertion was true. Stephanie, according to her reputation at her former school, at least, was supposed to be a slut, but, unlike her younger sister, Jenny, she'd yet to remove her top--or anything else. Brad may have gotten an eyeful of Jenny, by accident, but he hadn't seen anything of his own date's body. Talk about a role reversal, Dave thought: usually, it was Brad who got to look and touch, not Dave. Apparently, Jenny was a little more inclined to share her charms with her date than her older sister was to do the same.
Emboldened by his younger brother's success in having reached first base with his date, Brad squeezed Stephanie's breast. Dave smiled at the sound of the slap that Stephanie administered, followed by an irate reprimand. "How dare you?"
"I thought--"
"You thought what?"
"Well, Jenny's removed her top, and she's let Dave--"
"What the hell are you doing?" Stephanie demanded. "Spying on your brother and my sister?"
"I couldn't help but catch a glimpse in the rear-view."
"You could have if you hadn't been looking in the mirror!"
"Steph, let's not fight."
"What my sister does or doesn't do is her business."
"Okay, okay."
"But that doesn't mean I will follow suit."
"I didn't say it did."
"You implied it."
"How?"
"When you groped my breast, I told you to keep your hands to yourself, and you said, and I quote, 'Well, Jenny's removed her top, and she's let Dave.'"
"I'm sorry, all right?"
"If we weren't with Jenny and Dave, I'd make you take me home."
"I am sorry. Really. Forgive me?"
Stephanie flashed him a smile. "Only if you promise to kiss and make up."
Puckering his lips, Brad moved bowed toward her face.
She held up a forefinger, stopping him. "And promise not to spy on my sister again."
"I promise."
His lips met hers.
For a while, the interior of the automobile was quiet except for sighs, heavy breathing, and an occasional moan.
Outside, the full moon moved against the stars.
Having scooted as far back on her side of the back seat as possible, Jenny had managed to bend far forward at the waist, her golden hair spilling over Dave's lower belly and upper thighs as, parting her lips, she took his erect cock into the warm-soft-wetness of her mouth. Although her position was awkward, due to the close confines of the space in which she worked, she was exceedingly graceful, the occasional slurping sounds she made as she sucked his prick notwithstanding.
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Keywords: Girl, Boy, Meets,