Amanda Ch. 04

Note: This story will make a lot more sense if you read chapters One, Two, and Three.

Pity our poor young heroine, so recently innocent and now so thoroughly debauched. Having experienced such wanton—-not to say kinky or even perverted—-pleasures as women three times her age have never dared to think about in their most secret fantasies, how is a girl on this earth for a mere eighteen years to return to the common pursuits of high school girls: the latest hit song, tomorrow's geometry homework, a date for the big dance, a boyfriend? In fact, the last of these items was exactly what Amanda wanted most, but which had thus far proven to be elusive.

One problem was that this achingly beautiful teenager was just too much woman for most boys in her age group. She seemed unapproachable. As lovely as any cover model, with long chestnut hair and green eyes, Amanda's beauty was intimidating to the adolescent males at her school. That she was naturally a little shy didn't help, either. This shyness, combined with her naturally erect carriage, made her 'stuck up' in the eyes of her fellow students. Few boys her age could get past her remarkable good looks and her apparent haughtiness.

The other major obstacle to Amanda's dating was her chest. She was blessed, or cursed depending on how you looked at it (or them), with a pair of tits that were far out of proportion to her height and weight. A fit, rather slender girl, Amanda nevertheless had a huge set of jugs which caused boys to gape openly, girls to snarl with envy, and male teachers to sneak lustful glances and picture her naked while fucking their wives.

Until very recently, Amanda's sexual experiences could be summarized simply and briefly: she had kissed a few boys and she had been fucked exactly once. That was the sum total of her sex life until her third night of volunteer work at a local mental health facility. On that night, though, she was introduced to lesbian sex, interracial sex, oral sex (both giving and receiving) group sex, bondage, had fucked and sucked perhaps the biggest cock in the tri-state region, and licked cum from her breasts. On that fateful night of Amanda's, shall we say coming-to-terms with her sexuality, there was hell to pay when she got home.

She was in trouble because she got home very late and didn't call her parents. Then there was the fact that she was obviously in an altered state of consciousness. It's true that she had smoked some opium-laced weed and had had a couple of beers. But her mental state was not the result of drugs and alcohol. She was high on sex. Amanda had experienced her first orgasm that night. And her second. And many, many more, some in almost continuous waves.

So when she arrived home well after midnight it was clear to her parents that she was, well, fucked up. She had a silly grin on her face, her hair was a wreck, her clothes disheveled, and she had a hard time speaking coherently. Had Rebecca and Nick, the selfsame parents, examined her more closely they would have found her bra and panties missing entirely, and her pussy shaven and dripping with cum. (The external exam would not have revealed the quantity of slippery white stuff in her stomach, of course.) Amanda would say nothing about her evening except that she had 'partied with a couple of interns.' She was sent immediately to bed and grounded until further notice.

Early the next morning, a Saturday, Rebecca called the institution where her daughter volunteered. She was told that neither Dr. Derek Scott, the doctor in charge the previous night, nor the director of nursing, Nurse Constance, were available to speak with her. Both had the weekend off. She made an appointment to see Dr. Scott on Monday. As per his usual Saturday routine Amanda's father had gone to work, so he was not around to help deal with the situation. Rebecca was annoyed that Nick couldn't spare one day to spend with his daughter in this time of crisis.

As she sat over her morning coffee wondering what to do, Rebecca thought for the thousandth time how unlike her daughter this behavior was. She, not Amanda, had been the wild, rebellious teenager. All those late nights at the dance clubs, the cocaine, the drinking, the men...She had become pregnant with Amanda at age nineteen and quickly married Nick, the most responsible of the possible fathers, before her belly began to swell. She didn't want her daughter to repeat her mistakes, and until last night it seemed she wouldn't. Amanda was a good girl. She had plans, ambitions, a college scholarship.

Rebecca sneaked out behind the garage to smoke a cigarette before her daughter woke up.

Nick worked long hours and had very little time and energy for his gorgeous wife. He generally collapsed into bed early and quickly fell asleep. Rebecca couldn't understand this. She was only thirty-eight and appeared to be ten years younger. She was still a knockout. Looking very much like her daughter but with blonde hair and blue eyes, people often mistook them for sisters. Also like her daughter, Rebecca had huge beautiful tits. Though not quite as high and firm as Amanda's, her mom still possessed an incredible set of jugs, with large pink aureoles. She was often subjected to whistles and cat calls when she walked down the street, and when mother and daughter went out together the attention they received was downright embarrassing. So why was it that her husband hardly ever touched her anymore?

And how was our young heroine feeling on the morning after so many new and troubling experiences? Horny. Amanda felt like the world had opened to her. Like a secret that had been kept from her for years was suddenly revealed. Like she had surreptitiously read an especially renowned yet forbidden book, and it was even better than she had expected. Her pussy got wet thinking of the things she had done the night before, even as she blushed with shame. She could hardly come to terms with her behavior. Her few close girlfriends would never believe her, even if she had the nerve to tell them. Shaved and eaten by a much older woman? No way! Shared a black cock with two college girls? You've got to be kidding me! Licked the cum of a mental patient from her breasts? Eww, gross! Really, how could she possibly tell anyone?

But as she lay on her bed after her morning shower, a warm breeze blowing through her open window, Amanda's hand strayed to her pussy. Goddamn last night was amazing! As she ran her fingertips lightly through the juicy lips of her cunt, she did not close her eyes and she did not look at her poster of Justin Timberlake. She loosened her towel and looked at her own big, sexy tits and imagined them covered with cum as they had been the night before. She hefted one breast with her free hand and pinched the puffy pink nipple between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh," she said aloud as the pleasure caused her pussy to grow instantly much wetter. She lifted the nipple to her mouth and licked it, imagining she was licking up cum. It felt good. She sucked the whole nipple into her mouth and nibbled gently, while her other hand was busy caressing her vulva.

"Uhhnnn," Amanda growled deep in her throat. Her legs were spread wide apart and her middle finger had strayed up into her vagina while her thumb tickled her clit. Her ass rocked on the bed and her toes curled and uncurled. Her mouth grew parched and her breathing rapid. Amanda was just on the verge of a shattering climax when there was a knock at the door.

"Amanda, honey?" her mother called. "Can I come in?"

Not again! the sexy teen wondered. "Just a second," she answered, and frantically stood to wrap herself in the towel. Hands trembling, she finished tucking the ends of the towel between her breasts just as her mother opened the door.

"Oh, honey, you're not dressed...sorry I—I just barged in." Seeing her daughter in this state of undress somehow unnerved the sexy mom. She had seen Amanda in bikinis, of course, and underwear, and other forms of semi-nakedness (though not completely nude since Amanda's breasts had developed), but on this morning she seemed different somehow. Her hair was wet and drops of water still clung to her shoulders and dripped down her smooth legs. The bottom of the towel just barely covered her hips. She was gorgeous as always, yes, but what had changed?

"It's OK Mom, come on in," said Amanda without enthusiasm. She noticed that her fingers were shiny with cunt sauce and reached behind her back to wipe them clean. And that's when it happened. The ends of the towel pulled apart just a few inches at the bottom, but it was enough. Rebecca could see her daughter's shaved snatch! The savvy milf opened her mouth but quickly shut it. She suddenly figured out what was different about Amanda, besides just the smooth quim. It was her voice, the look in her eyes, the way she held her head. Amanda had been transformed sexually. She was not the same person she had been when she left for school Friday morning.

Rebecca quickly regained her composure. "I'm going to the mall in a little while and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me," she said. Although filled with curiosity about her daughter's experience—-something happened last night that had changed Amanda profoundly—-the clever mom realized that it was better to say nothing at present. She and her daughter had always been on the closest of terms, almost like sisters in some ways. Rebecca wished to maintain that relationship and she felt that a confrontation now would only drive the teenager away just when she might need a confidant.

Amanda agreed to go with her mother to the mall. It would be better than sitting at home thinking about sex all day.

When her daughter got into the car an hour later, Rebecca was shocked. Ever since her breasts had developed Amanda dressed conservatively and took pains to hide her huge jugs, but now she was wearing a tight scoop-neck white top that left her midriff bare. It was a shirt that would have looked great on a girl with average tits. On Amanda, it was scandalous. It was clear that she was wearing no bra, though her amazing tits didn't sag at all, and the low neckline showed an eye-popping amount of cleavage. The lower part of her body was clad in a short pleated skirt that she had had since she was thirteen. Amanda had grown several inches since then, making the skirt very short indeed. The hem just covered the tops of her thighs while the wide waistband hung low on her hips. Rebecca almost protested, but again she bit her tongue. This isn't the time to get all righteous, she thought.

Rebecca had hoped that the time in the car together would be an opportunity to have a good mother-daughter chat, but it wasn't to be. Ear buds firmly in place, Amanda bobbed her head in time to music on her iPod and heard nothing her mom said. As Rebecca drove, her lovely teenage daughter painted the nails on her pretty pink toes. To do this, she raised one foot at a time to the edge of the car seat, exposing even more of her smooth thighs.

Amanda's shiny chestnut hair hung down over her face as she applied the nail polish, and Rebecca was able to study her daughter freely. She marveled anew at her perfection. The teen's long, shapely legs were free from the slightest blemish. Not a pimple, not a mole, nor even a razor bump in sight. There was muscle tone in those legs, yet Rebecca knew that if she touched them, the skin would be smooth and silky. The feet were small and delicate, with no sign of a callous anywhere; the toes like bits of chewy candy.

At the mall they split up, Rebecca to look for the right shoes for an upcoming party, and Amanda to browse for CDs and clothes. As she walked the main concourse, the ravishing teen got more than her share of looks: some appreciative, some envious, and some outraged. She had only been in the music store a few minutes when a group of senior boys from Amanda's school came in. They were the kind of boys that in the past wouldn't have merited a second glance. A mixed group of Hispanics and African Americans, with the requisite baggy jeans and gold chains, they were definitely from the wrong side of the tracks.

One of the boys greeted Amanda with a friendly, 'What up?" and was rewarded with a big smile in return. She could hear the boys talking among themselves, but could only make out a few scattered words and phrases. "Our class? No way....lookin' fine.... man, check out those tits....fuckin' hot..." She sensed them gathering around her as she scanned idly through the racks of CDs.

Finally one of Puerto Ricans approached. "Hey, how you doin'?"

"OK," Amanda replied, smiling up at him.

"Um, what your name, yo?"

Oh, god. I really am stuck up! We've been in the same school together almost four years and he doesn't even know my name. "Amanda. What's your name?" She knew who he was but thought it better to pretend she didn't.

"Friends call me T. Me and my homies was wonderin'—-you go to Central, right?"

"Yeah." Shit! They don't even know if we go to the same school!

"I knew it! Little Man here said you didn't." T jerked his thumb in the direction of a large, broad-shouldered black youth with long braids and very dark skin. Amanda recognized him as the star linebacker/tight end from the football team who was set to attend a major university on an athletic scholarship.

Little Man spoke up. His voice was very deep and surprisingly gentle. "I remember you now. I'm Alonzo." He held out his hand, which Amanda shook rather formally. "You look different than usual, more relaxed or something." That was diplomatic! Her style had changed from complete prude to naughty nymphet, and he described this as 'more relaxed.' Amanda didn't really know what to say, so she looked at the floor and blushed. While she was trying to think of a response Alonzo helped by politely introducing the other three guys, two of whom were black and one Puerto Rican.

After a few minutes small talk, T suggested they move the conversation to the parking lot where his van was parked. "Got us some 40s out in the car, man."

"Forty? Forty what?" asked Amanda innocently.

The others fell out laughing. Did she really not know? "That's forty ounce, girl. Forty ounce bottle of beer, y'know? Like, we got Schlitz and Old English 800," Alonzo explained. "You do drink beer, don't you?"

A few minutes later, Amanda and the five guys were gathered around T's van in a far corner of the mall parking lot, with music throbbing, beer pouring and conversation flowing easily. Somebody lit a joint, which Amanda gladly shared when it came her way. She was feeling relaxed, comfortable, and sure of herself. This was a new sensation. Until the previous night, the lovely teen had been shy, insecure, and ashamed of her body, especially her breasts. Now she relished the lustful stares of the boys. She was proud of her sexy bod.

As the teens got to know one another (and became more intoxicated) they gradually let down their barriers—barriers of social class, race, and the sort of walls that people throw up around themselves as protection against....what? Revealing too much of themselves? Against being hurt? Against exposure to different cultures? Whatever these barriers were, they quickly eroded, allowing the teens to be themselves, and to accept as equals the other members of their little party. Combined with the beer and pot, it was a heady mixture. Young Amanda had never felt so alive, so free, so able to be herself.

Of course, the hormones of the boys were not unaffected. Released from the boundaries of social convention, whatever these boundaries might be among twenty-first century teenagers, the boys were drawn as if by a magnet to Amanda's graceful, curvaceous form. Hands rested on her shoulders. Whispering lips brushed against her ear. An arm slipped around her waist. And Amanda did not draw back. The touch of human hands on her body felt natural, expected.

From that point it was but a short leap for a hand resting on Amanda's hip to slide up her skirt. But this was a boundary our young heroine was not ready to cross. Her innocence might have been lost, but even with a buzz on Amanda knew she shouldn't allow herself to be felt up in a parking lot. "No!" she snapped, slapping the hand away.

"Aw, c'mon, baby" laughed T, for it was he whose hand had grown too familiar. Immediately a different hand groped her round ass cheek from the other side. "Stop!" Amanda cried, but this time as she swatted at the offending hand someone caught her wrist. Angry now, the fit young lass drew back her right hand as if to take a powerful forehand swing, which only allowed T to capture that wrist as well. Soon both arms were pinioned tightly behind her back. As much as she squirmed and struggled it was apparent that her captors were just too strong.

"Alright boys," someone said. "Let's see what she got." A couple of the guys moved in and grabbed the front of her shirt.

"No! Please don't," Amanda pleaded. "Let me go or I'll scream!" A hand was starting to raise the hem of her top.

"Wait," said Alonzo stepping forward. "Amanda, baby, we like you and we don't want to get rough. But my boys here, well, you just got 'em too wound up, lookin' so good and bein' so friendly and all. So what d'ya say we make us a deal?"

"What kind of a deal?" Amanda was still angry, but the big younster sounded so sincere—and looked so handsome—that her defenses let down a little.

"You show me what you got, and I'll show you what I got."

"What are you talking about?" she said, still trying to free her wrists.

"You know, like, I'll take off my shirt and you take off your shirt."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "I'm not going for any deal like that."

"Well, I'm takin' mine off anyway." And he did, pulling his big t-shirt up over his head. Amanda almost gasped out loud. His chest was so broad, the black skin so smooth, and his arms so thick and powerful that she began to understand why he thought she might agree to his deal. His abs actually rippled like the proverbial washboard. She managed to look away, but too late.

"Oh, yeah!" said T triumphantly. "She likes you, man!"

Alonzo moved closer until his face was inches from hers. Small beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and upper lip. He caressed the side of her face and then her neck gently with his fingertips. His other hand stroked her hair. "So pretty," he cooed. "So sexy." He bent to kiss her mouth but Amanda turned her head to the side. He was not deterred. The confident young man lowered his mouth to her ear, which he nuzzled with his lips and breathed into with his hot breath. This caused Amanda to gasp softly. Nobody heard it except Alonzo, but it was a signal to him that she was ready to be taken further.

Using the tip of one finger he traced around one of the gorgeous teen's jutting nipples. "No!" she cried weakly, "don't!" but it was hopeless: she was quickly succumbing to her lust. He pinched the other nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. "Stop!" she said in a voice squeaky with panic and suppressed desire. The muscular youngster lowered his face to her breasts and kissed each nipple in turn through the slinky fabric. "No," Amanda repeated, "No," as her tormentor sucked her hot flesh into his mouth, soaking her blouse. "Please don't!"

But it was much, much too late.

Amanda's eyes were closed and her mouth open. The big Negro lifted his mouth from her nips and twisted them, quite hard, with his fingers. Like water taps, when turned they opened the floodgate between her legs. Her panties were drenched, she could tell. This bold young black boy had teased her in the most unmerciful way, as if he knew exactly what made her hot, and she was helpless to resist. Of course, with her hands held behind her back she had been helpless all along, but now she had lost the will to fight back.