Children of Sin Ch. 3

"Shit, he heard me!" Pamela immediately froze, her attention once again drawn to the action in front of her. That's when her eyes caught another surprise. At least 7" of manhood, erect and very thick. Her eyes got wide and her jaw automatically dropped. She hadn't been expecting anything like this. As Leslie licked at the bulbous head of his cock, rubbing his saliva-slicked, thick shaft in her dainty hand, Pamela was entranced. She had seen a few penises in her time, fumbled her hands in darkened movie theaters or in the cramped back-seat of some jock's nice car. She'd even sucked a couple cocks, but she had never seen one as nice and thick as this guy's. Most of the jocks she dated seemed to have tiny dicks, with only one memorable exception (thank God for beautiful black men), and even while he had been very long, he didn't have the absolute thickness this quiet Asian stoner had. If the stereotypes about black men had been true, the ones about Asian men were very obviously a lie.

She watched breathlessly as Leslie slowly inhaled his cockhead, slurping on it loudly. Samuel was in a trance, looking down at her sweet face full of his meat, her green eyes staring right back up at him. She was absolutely loving the pleasure she was giving him. Pamela's own breath started to deepen, her forehead starting to glisten from light perspiration. She had never been a spectator to this sort of thing before, and she knew that she shouldn't be sitting here getting hot like she was now. This was all wrong, but Pamela just could not bring herself to move. She watched as more and more of his meat slid past Leslie's soft lips, entering and withdrawing inch by inch until she must have had nearly three-quarters of it stuffed in her mouth. She watched in wide-eyed astonishment as Leslie fought off the gag-reflexes and brought the last inch and a half or so into her mouth, practically watching her throat expand in front of her. Holy shit, how the hell does she do that? This was definitely not Leslie's first time doing this. Pamela could only gaze, like in a trance herself, at the scene before her.

Samuel let out a deep groan suddenly, causing Pamela to jump slightly from the sudden interruption of the silent, erotic scene. She looked at the pained look on his face and could tell that he was cumming, or if he wasn't, he was damn close to it. Leslie's head immediately started bobbing wildly on his prick, hot, slurping noises filling the high ceiling of the empty studio. Her long hair, which by now seemed to almost reach the floor from her position, bounced lightly against her back, catching the air and shining almost golden in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the high windows of the studio. Pamela's heart was racing, and she found herself inexplicably urging them on. Leslie worked hard, swallowing every last burst of cum, practically sucking it right out from his balls. Her eyes never moved from his face, which was now covered in sweat and held the most amazing look of relief. The dark voyeur, still in her little hiding spot, let out a sigh as if having also found her relief. Holy shit, that was intense!

Leslie sat on her knees, cleaning off his spent and slowly softening tool, her tongue sending some evil, magical sensations jolting through his body. It wasn't until then that Pamela noticed the movement from underneath Leslie's short skirt. She couldn't quite make it out, and almost immediately one of Leslie's hands reached behind her and pulled the skirt up, showing off her panty-clad ass in Pamela's direction. That's when she realized where Leslie's other hand was, and what the movement had been. Raising up on her knees some more, Leslie continued to tease Samuel's cock back to full attention. This allowed Pamela a much better view of Leslie's slow, deliberate masturbation over her panties. Her hips moving slightly, Leslie's panty-covered crotch came into full view, and Pamela nearly gasped at how wet she was. Her white cotton panties were soaked, nearly transparent with moisture as her dainty little fingers continued their circular motion over her clit. It was then that Pamela noticed her own damp panties, and just how turned on she was getting. Her own left hand had been massaging one of her breasts this whole time, and she realized with horror that her right had been rubbing her exposed inner thigh, working its way up to her own crotch.

Surprised by her own arousal, she barely caught Leslie say, "God, Samuel, you make me so hot."

"We gotta be more careful," Samuel replied in an exhausted voice. "We shouldn't be doing this in here. We don't want your little secret... our little secret coming out like this." She nodded silently, and they both quickly started to dress themselves.

Suddenly, something in Pamela snapped. She realized that she was being drawn in, probably just like Samuel had been drawn in, by the bizarre but undeniable sexuality of Leslie. This girl, this... this slut, had gotten her all hot and wet, had gotten her to caress herself without even realizing it. It was then that Pamela's hornyness had twisted into red-hot anger. That bitch. That's how she did it. She played the part of the innocent, of the angel, and quickly seduced you with it, but she was really nothing more than a cock-sucking little slut, and now she had Samuel keeping her secret for her. Somehow, Samuel ceased being a co-conspirator in her mind, and Leslie seemed so much lower in her eyes. Pamela felt her nails dig into the flesh of her thigh, and made up her mind. She wasn't going to start off any rumors any more. No, that was too impersonal. And this had suddenly gotten very personal.

It wasn't until more than a week later that Pamela decided to begin her secret plot. It was Friday, and everyone in the school was eager to start the weekend, so of course the topic of most of the lunchroom discussions (other than Leslie and Samuel) was of upcoming parties.

"So are you coming to Greg's party tomorrow night? He says that his parents will be out of town for the weekend, and that his older brother from college is going to be bringing some of his friends over," one of Pamela's friends would have been heard to say, adding, "It sounds like a great way to meet some college guys."

Pamela was well aware of the opportunity, but despite most high school girls' eagerness to find a more mature man beyond their high school counterparts, Pamela knew that most college men were really a bore. They talked big, and drank even more. Not that Pamela wasn't guilty of getting herself lightly buzzed now and then, but she knew how stupid guys acted when they were drunk. But Pamela's attentions weren't on the parties that morning. Today, just like every day that week, she was watching Leslie and Samuel sitting together, and in her head she was devising something. Her mind was whirling with ideas, and she grinned as the realization of her goal was so close, she could taste it. Her panties were starting to get moist at the thought of their little escapade two days ago, and maybe even in the thrilling thought of finally having some ammunition to use against Leslie, but she ignored it. Her mind was sharp and focused on only one thing now.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Pamela chimed in on her friends' conversation, never moving her eyes away from the pair. She pointed at them, saying, "How about if we invite them along as well?" There was a noticeable silence from the table. She turned around, looking at them, noticing the odd sort of discomfort in a number of their faces.

"Well?" she added, her venomous persona showing a little. Chelsie, a petite brunette who had been friends with Pamela since the 5th grade, and often described as Pam's "right-hand henchman," finally spoke up.

"Um, Pam, why do you want them to come?" she said, a very obvious tone of disgust in her voice. She had always said she disliked Leslie as much as Pamela had, but deep down this was more of a front. In truth, she had been hoping someone would have thought to invite Leslie along to a number of parties, but had never had the metaphorical "balls" to do it herself. Especially not if it meant pissing off Pamela.

"Because," Pamela began, eyeing her spineless friend, "Leslie's always been... an interesting person, and what with the sudden school-wide interest in her relationship with Sam over there, I figured this Saturday's party would be a perfect time to find out more about the young man." She seemed to say this with such a logical tone, the rest of the clique really didn't see any reason to disagree.

After the lunch period had ended, Pamela and her small following of girlfriends waited by the doors of the cafeteria. As Leslie and Samuel approached, she immediately put on her best "sweet face."

"Hi Leslie! Hi Sam!" she said with a grin that, if you didn't know her reputation, would have probably gotten your trust right away; if you were familiar with her, however, a smile like that would have roused suspicions just as quickly.

"Uh, hi Pamela," Leslie smiled back, much more cautiously. She didn't really trust this girl when she made that face, but then again, Leslie didn't really trust Pamela that much anyway. They had always been cordial to each other, but Leslie knew trouble when she saw it.

"Me and the girls were just talking, and we were wondering if you wanted to go to Greg Parish's party tomorrow night?" She was really laying on the charm thick, and with the crowd of attractive, smiling faces behind her, it was all a bit intimidating as well.

"I'm sorry, Pamela, but I'm not sure..." Leslie began to say.

Pamela immediately turned her attention to Samuel, and in her sweetest, demure smile, said, "Aw, come on. We would love to see you there. We've all been dying to meet your new friend here."

Samuel was more than a little thrown off. He really wanted to tell her, "Well why didn't you bother talking to me before I started dating Leslie?" but he was frozen by her charms. Dammit, boy! You're supposed to only act that way with your girlfriend, not this uppity bitch!

Finally, he stammered, "W-well, I don't see why we couldn't..."

"Great! You're going then?" Pamela immediately chimed. Heh heh.

Leslie, who was more than a little surprised by Samuel's response, finally relented a "Um, yeah, sure. I guess so." She didn't really trust the situation, but, well, it didn't sound so bad in retrospect. Besides, she trusted that if Samuel felt it was okay, then it must be okay.

"Ha ha, hook, line, and sinker," Pamela though behind her false grin as she gave them directions to the party and bid them a final "See you later!" She had worked that situation in her classic style, working her charms against a person's weakness. This time, the weakness was Samuel, and she knew Leslie wouldn't have thought of going, not with her inviting them personally, unless she got Sam to agree. She grinned at her own handy-work and kept building her plans secretly in her mind.

Saturday afternoon, Pamela was working furiously to make herself look as hot as possible. She pulled on a light-violet, silk party dress, short and showing off all of her curves, the thin straps laying lightly on her bare, pale shoulders. She didn't bother wearing a bra, and in her excitement for tonight, she noticed that her nipples were lightly poking through the thin material. Her firm tits filled out the top deliciously, allowing a nice bit of cleavage to show at the low neck of the dress. Her freshly washed hair had been brushed to a luster as she brought it up into a loose bun, showing off the length of her sexy, dainty neck. Her make-up was light, as usual, but she wore a purple lipstick that almost perfectly matched her dress. Her finger and toe nails were also painted a similar hue, and she slid her small, perfect feet into some really sexy, strappy high-heel shoes. She had a tiny ring on one of her toes, as well as three on her slim fingers. She put on the final touches, including a light spray of her most sexy perfume and her favorite locket, which hung low on a thin gold chain, the locket practically falling into her cleavage. Taking one last time to adjust her black thong panties, she smoothed her dress down over her hips and inspected herself in the mirror. Finally satisfied, she pulled on her matching sheer-violet jacket (not that this thing would have done much to keep her warm, but that wasn't the point), picked up her purse and headed out the door.

At 9:00, she arrived at the somewhat secluded Parish house. Normally one to make a "fashionably late" appearance, she was just too excited about having her plans set in motion to risk missing Leslie and Samuel's appearance. All eyes were on her, but she wasn't paying attention. After scouting all the faces in the living room and the kitchen, she assumed that they hadn't shown up yet. She turned to walk out of the kitchen doorway, deciding to find some of her usual friends, when she walked straight into something big. Or rather, someone big.

"Hey, girl!" a familiar voice came from the hulking mass, and immediately Pamela cringed a little. Looking up, she looked straight into the big smiling face of Gordon Hailey, Jr., or, as he was known to most of his friends, "Big Gordie," "Big Boi," or just "G." As the school's star linebacker, he was immense. He stood only about an inch taller than Pamela, but he was at least 300 pounds heavier. He was wearing his football jersey, which seemed to add to his apparent girth. He had some solid muscle, but that only added to the large amount of extra bulk on his frame. He was grinning, looking her up and down, saying, "Damn, girl! You're lookin' fine tonight! I wouldn't mind bumpin' into that any time."

"Hi, Big G," Pamela said, rolling her eyes. She didn't mind getting the attention of most of the jocks, but this guy was one exception. No matter what party she went at, he was always the first one to start hitting on her, despite her constant dismissal of him.

"Aw, c'mon, girl! Don't be like that! You know how I can't help myself around you tall girls." he said, his grin widening. Gordie wasn't usually one to hit on the white girls, especially not the really popular ones, but he had always been attracted to this tall beauty, a good 6' tall in her heels. She was a little skinny for his tastes, and many of his friends used to tease him whenever he'd strike-out with her, citing how he'd probably break her in half with him on top of her. Despite this, he was constantly "working his game" on her.

She laughed a bit, saying, "Yeah yeah yeah, I've heard it all before, Big G." She put her hand on his meaty shoulder, getting his grin even wider, when she added, "And here's something you've heard before: 'Out of my way, wide load.'"

That stung him a bit, but he was used to the usual "fat guy" jokes from her. He simply replied, "Just more of me to love, baby," laughing as he stepped aside. He deeply inhaled her perfume as she passed, and let out a "Woo!" as she walked away, her nice little ass moving with every step.

It was another hour before someone spotted Leslie and Samuel walking up the driveway. One of Pamela's girls warned her immediately, and Pamela grinned as she excused herself from a conversation and headed straight for the door. She saw Samuel enter first, wearing his normal baggy khakis and green army jacket, and she smiled sweetly to greet him. Before she could reach him, however, Leslie entered, and Pamela's smile waned a little at the sight of her. She was wearing a very nice, red top with a nice, low V-neck, also showing a nice bit of cleavage. Her skirt was a matching red, silk by the looks of it, with a nice long slit to one side that ended about halfway up her thigh. Her hair was also pulled back into a cute style, accentuating the length of her slender neck. She wasn't wearing anything quite as flashy as Pamela, but Pam knew that Leslie would be getting a fair amount of attention. She just looked hot.

"Bitch," she nearly muttered under her breath, before regaining her composure to greet the both of them.

"Hi! Leslie and Sam! Thank you for coming! We were thinking maybe you forgot about us!" Her lackeys were close behind, looking like some overly dolled-up welcoming committee. Pamela grabbed both Samuel and Leslie by the hands, leading them to the living room where she made some quick introductions. All the guys were happy to not only meet the gorgeous Leslie, but also Samuel; Pamela had prompted all of them to be nice to him before-hand.

"Hey Sammy! Want a beer?" a rather loud member of the basketball team asked him, already handing him a cup. Not wanting to be a wet-blanket, Samuel just replied with a smiling, "Sure!"

After an hour or so, both of the hapless teens were mingling, not realizing that Pamela was keeping her eye on them the whole time. Leslie was giggling and chatting with some of the girls, and Samuel was laughing and drinking with the guys. She was watching things unfold nicely. Even Leslie was putting back a few drinks, her giggling coming more frequently in conversation. She was basking in how things were unraveling as planned, when that familiar voice came from behind her yet again.

"Hey, baby-girl. What're you smilin' at?" Big Boi came up behind her. His dark skin, actually darker than many of the black kids who went to their school, glistened with sweat, which is often what happens when fat guys drink. He smelled a lot like beer and pizza, and Pamela was more than a little disgusted.

"Ugh, what do you want, Gordie?" He still had that same goofy grin on his face when he looked into the living room and noticed Leslie.

"Hey, when did Leslie get here? I didn't know she was into partying."

"She isn't," Pamela responded, regaining her icy stare at her. Gordie caught this. He always knew Pamela had a bad attitude about some of the other girls, and something was telling him the situation here wasn't right.

"Did you invite her?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did. So?" she said, again showing impatience with him. No, there was definitely something wrong going on here.

"Where's Samuel Kim?" he asked cautiously.

"Over there," Pamela motioned to the crowd of drunk boys sitting around the kitchen table, talking and laughing uproariously. That same evil smile curled on her lips.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Pamela?" he decided to ask as bluntly as possible, knowing her reputation. Immediately, Pamela's head turned back to him, looking at him with a bit of shock. He knew she was up to no good, and now she realized a kink in her plan had suddenly showed up. As disgusted with both him and the situation as she was, she needed to do something quick.

"I'm not doing anything..." she began to say, putting the old charm on again.

"Naw, I don't think so, girl. That smile may do things to other guys, but I know you better than that. Something's going on in that pretty little head of yours." He was trying his best to be strong, but her smile was melting away some of that strength.

She continued her little masquerade, batting her eyelashes a bit and leaning close to him, saying softly, "I'm not up to anything..."

"Well, that may be, but I think I'm gonna hang with my girl Leslie for a while, just to be sure," he said, keeping his cool, and with that he walked into the living room. Immediately, all the drunken jocks began to celebrate the name of "Big Bo-yee!"

"Shit!" Pamela thought to herself. She needed to work fast, without anyone, including Big Gordie, noticing her. Watching closely, it wasn't long before Gordie and Leslie were chatting it up. She made her way through a crowd of people to the kitchen, before she realized that Samuel wasn't there.

"Where is he?" she asked, and when no one answered her, she asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Who?" a few very drunk guys asked, before one of them answered, "Oh, you mean Shaggy? He's out back with some of the guys."