Boy Meets Girl

byCal Y. Pygia©

"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.

She was a good cock sucker. She excelled at the activity, in fact, providing the best oral service Dave, in his limited experience, had ever received. Her lips a firm circle, she plunged her cock-impaled mouth up and down in a slow, steady rhythm, the thick, hard organ sliding through her soft, full lips, over her wet tongue, and past the inner walls of her cheeks.

Dave's dick responded, swelling further and becoming more rigid as it extended its length another fraction of an inch, until he was sporting the biggest erection he'd ever had in his life. Although the light was dim, late afternoon fading to twilight, he could make out the soft, shining cascade of her hair and her head bowed over his groin. Occasionally, he could see her chin and mouth, his huge cock between her rounded lips.

Jenny's head continued to bob up and down as she drew the "O" of her lips back along the sleek column of flesh before plunging her liquid mouth back down the swollen shaft. She paused occasionally to lick the stalk of his manhood, to kiss his balls through the tight, risen pouch of his velvet-smooth scrotum, or to nuzzle his purple, swollen glans with her lips before sliding her lips back down his cock.

Dave moaned, caressing her hair. He wanted his cock in her cunt, although he was enjoying having his manhood in her mouth. It was extremely erotic to have his balls inches from her lovely face and his penis inside her pretty mouth as she fucked her face with his prick, but he also wanted to penetrate her pussy, shoving his erection through her labia and into the warm, liquid center of her sex, riding her fast and hard as he thrust his meat into the depths of her belly. Of course, he'd also like to ravage her anally. The tightness of her sweet, puckered asshole, offset by the roominess of her rectum, would be fantastic. He smiled. Men, himself included, always seemed to want whatever kind of sex they weren't engaged in at the moment. If he were fucking or butt-fucking Jenny, he'd no doubt want her to be sucking his cock. He decided to forget about vaginal and anal intercourse for the moment and to concentrate on the excellent oral intercourse in which he was involved at the moment.

Jenny's expert mouth performed upon him as if she were a musician and his prick was her piccolo. She was a gifted "instrumentalist," he thought. She was talented enough to suck cock at Carnegie Hall. She'd paused to lash his glans with quick flicks of the tip of her stiffened tongue, and the sensations were so pleasurable that Dave nearly came. His thighs flexed, his buttocks clenched, and his groin heaved, his cock twitching; his balls seemed to implode inside his scrotum. He moaned, clutching the sides of her head with his hands.

Slipping his cock back into her mouth, Jenny let her head dip, sliding her lips down the shaft of his penis until her nose pressed against his pubes and her chin rested upon his balls, allowing saliva to collect inside her mouth. Then, her mouth a reservoir of his warm fluid, she swished his prick around, using her tongue and lips and the inner walls of her cheeks to toss and wag his member as if she were gargling with his prick inside her mouth. The combination of these motions and the collected saliva made it feel to Dave as if his cock were inside a pussy rather than Jenny's face, and the sensations that she produced in him by this tactic were too much for him; he reached the point of no return, and his cock, convulsing inside her mouth, spurted gush after gush of his thick, warm seed past her lips, over her teeth and tongue, and against the insides of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth as Dave groaned and gasped.

Jenny remained motionless, accepting the full measure of his passion as his semen burst, liquid bombs exploding, inside her mouth. His warm, viscid seed tasted of salt, and it was as thick as melted butter. She very much enjoyed the rich texture and the salty flavor. She swallowed all of his load after savoring it until it began to lose its zest. Then, she licked clean the tip and shaft of Dave's penis, making sure not a bead or globule of the liquid pearls was lost.

From the front seat, similar moans and gasps were heard from Brad, so, Dave guessed, Stephanie had forgiven his brother's presumptuous forwardness and his having spied on Dave and Jenny earlier--that or she was as horny as her sister obviously had been.

Jenny sat up, scooted back toward Dave, and sat close to him, still bare breasted. She placed a hand on his inner thigh, a soft touch that would certainly have aroused him if he hadn't just had the orgasm of his life. In the dim light of the fading day, he could see her hair was mussed and her makeup slightly smeared; her eyes had a dreamy look. Had she climaxed? he wondered.

She kissed him, and he felt his semen, slick and gummy, on her lips. He kissed her back, and she opened her mouth (her vagina, he thought) to him. Their tongues met, entwined, and he felt, rather than tasted, the thickness of her saliva which had mixed with his semen. Despite her having swallowed his load, a remnant of his seed remained inside her mouth. The thought that, in French kissing Jenny, he was sampling his own semen, excited him. It was odd, he thought, how sharing his own sperm aroused him, whereas the thought of having another man's semen on his tongue would disgust him. It was odd, too, that any man found pleasure in masturbating himself while many would find masturbating another man to be nothing but disgusting, despite the fact that a cock was a cock and balls were balls, just as semen was semen. There was no accounting for human nature, he guessed.

As he kissed Jenny, Dave again wondered whether she was as aroused as he had been and as he was becoming again. She certainly seemed to be, but girls could pretend well. Her nipples were erect, but the coolness of the gathering night could account for their erection. There was one sure way to find out. He could check to see whether she was moist "down there." If her labia were wet, her cunt obviously would be as well, and if her pussy was lubricated, she obviously would be aroused, physically, if not emotionally, and ready for intercourse. Suddenly, it seemed necessary for him to know, one way or the other, whether Jenny was aroused; he had to know.

Twice, he'd reached for her pussy, and twice he'd been wordlessly rebuffed. This time, he didn't intend to give her the opportunity to deny his questing hand. Instead of trailing his palm up her smooth thigh, he reached directly inside her mini skirt, felt the silk panties, and jerked his hand away, recoiling from her. "What the hell?" he cried.

"Dave," Jenny said, her voice soft, crushed.

He'd felt the unmistakable bulge of male genitals in her panties. Moreover, her cock, though small, was erect, and her balls were high inside her tightened scrotum. "Her"? Why did he refer to Jenny as "her"? It was obvious that, despite her long hair, makeup, feminine apparel, and breasts, "she" was a he!

"You have a cock," Dave charged, "and balls!"

Dave's statement got his brother's attention. "What did you say?" Brad called from the front seat as he untangled himself from Stephanie. He sat up and peered over the back of his bucket seat.

"Jenny--or whatever his real name is--has a cock and balls; 'she's' a he!"

Brad looked ready to puke. He turned an angry glance on his date. "What the hell is this?" he demanded. "Your sister's a guy?"

"No," Stephanie asserted, sitting up and smoothing down her skirt. She had her top off. She'd also removed her bra, and her breasts, Dave could see in the faint light of the day's end, were just as perfect as Jenny's. High, firm, round, and beautiful, they were golden-brown and capped with rose-pink nipples and areolas. Like Jenny's, Stephanie's nipples were also stiff and swollen. Dave wondered if, instead of an erect penis, Stephanie had a wet cunt beneath her panties. "Jenny's every bit as much a woman as I am."

"Not every bit," Dave observed. He wondered how, at a moment like this, he could joke. He should be as outraged as Brad was on his behalf at having been duped into dating someone like Jenny. However, he wasn't furious. He didn't even feel indignant. In fact, strange as it may seem, he was aroused at the thought that the young lady who'd taken off her halter top to display her breasts, who had kissed him (and whom he had kissed), and who'd sucked his cock, was really another guy in disguise. Still, despite her feminine charms, Jenny had a cock and a pair of balls. The incongruity of her feminine appearance and her possession, at the same time, of male genitals was exciting. A sudden fear rose within Dave: did his attraction to Jenny mean that he was gay? His manly brother certainly didn't seem attracted to her--or him. Brad was obviously disgusted, just as he was incensed at Stephanie for having conned him and Dave.

"What are you saying?" Brad demanded of Stephanie. "You have a cock, too?"

She gave him a level look. When she answered, she spoke with a level tone. "I'm saying Jenny's a transsexual."

"That's really great, Steph," Brad said. Sarcasm dripped from every word. "You lied to me and Dave so my brother would go out with a chick with a dick?"

"Dave doesn't seem too mind," Stephanie remarked.

"Of course he minds," Brad retorted. "Your so-called sister is a man! How could you have been so dishonest?"

"I don't hear Dave complaining," Stephanie said.

Brad rolled his eyes. Casting a gaze into the back seat, he looked at his brother for confirmation. "What about it Dave? Tell Stephanie how great you feel about dating a chick with a dick."

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byCal Y. Pygia© 0 comments/ 74429 views/ 16 favorites

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