Confessions

Genevieve and I had been talking on the phone for about an hour, mostly abetting one another in avoiding our respective summer school homework assignments and giving each other a hard time. There wasn't much new to talk about since it had been only four or five hours since we'd grabbed lunch at the Union together before heading home—me to my off-campus apartment and her to her parents' house, where she had moved back in for the summer. We were ribbing each other about surviving the doldrums of July and what our collective lack of ambition meant for finding reasonable student work positions during the fall term when I heard a noise (a door closing?) over the line. There was a pause, and then Gen's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper.

"Lindsay asked me if we were having sex," Gen whispered into the phone conspiratorially.

My musings about the lazy summer ground to a sudden halt. This was...unexpected. Lindsay was Genevieve's "little" sister, a high school senior a few months past eighteen—two years younger than Gen, but half a head taller. We'd hung out a bit whenever I dropped by to kill time in Gen's parents' backyard, and I got on with Lindsay well enough, but since Gen and Lindsay were the only girls in the house and relatively close in age, my sense was that they were pretty close. I really had no idea what to read into Gen's pronouncement.

"What did you tell her?" I replied, genuinely curious.

Gen and I were, in fact, having sex. Quite a lot of sex, as it turns out, ever since I'd given my virginity to her over Thanksgiving weekend while we had the run of my apartment to ourselves. Gen was a girl who knew what she wanted. And she knew how to ask for it, be it sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and gently biting the tender flesh in the midst of an otherwise-chaste kiss to intimate that she was feeling particularly horny, grabbing both my hands and guiding them up underneath her threadbare nightshirt to cup and knead her bare breasts while we were lounging together on the floor of her dorm room in the evenings, or describing in vivid detail where and how she wanted my fingers and tongue as we carpooled to and from the college practice fields together.

I guess it would be fair to say that Gen was a bit of a hedonist; she loved indulging herself in the pleasures of the moment—she loved sampling the spicy street food from the weekend farmer's market near campus, swaying to the pulsing beat of the music at the weekend rock concerts in the Quad, the feel of the cool mist raining down on her skin as we strolled hand-in-hand through the courtyards tucked in among the downtown shops in the evenings. And for the last eight or so months, she'd also been hedonistically indulging in me on a delightfully regular basis: teaching me all the ways that she liked to be touched, coaching me on how to bring her off with an astoundingly long series of orgasms, one flowing right into the next, and (with an otherwise uncharacteristic inkling of timidity) admitting her previously undisclosed-to-anyone-else fantasy of being tied up and surrendering sexual control to someone else.

Although I'd been rather unexperienced with sex prior to dating Genevieve, I enthusiastically adopted her outlook on living "in the now" and taking pleasure when and where it could be found. We fucked like rabbits over the winter break and through the cold months of January and February, christening not only her narrow dorm room twin bed and shower, but also every room in my apartment (including the dining room table, twice), her parents' living room sofa, a stall in the basement ladies' room in the Union, a darkened corner of the marching band uniform storage room, a study carrel in the library stacks, and—frequently—in the bed of my pickup out in the fields beyond the edge of town, under the twinkling lights of the Milky Way.

I had also assumed the role of "amateur dominant" to fulfill Gen's bondage fantasy with gusto. Although our initial forays into domination were laughable—my hands shaking clumsily as I tried to bind her wrists together behind her back with an old pair of shoelaces, her easily breaking free of the knots as soon as I slid my cock into her molten pussy and her muscles tensed at the intrusion—we readily refined both our tools and our technique over the course of the spring. By the time we were ready to box up our belongings to move out of the dorms and into our summer accommodations, we needed two extra (opaque!) storage tubs to bundle up our growing collection of nipple clamps, gags, cuffs and collars, chains of varying lengths and gauges, masks, plugs, and vibrating eggs. I'd had to take an extra student loan to cover the deposit on my summer apartment, but the savings that we'd "invested" in gear for eliciting goosebumps and gasps from one another—my bringing her to the brink of cumming and holding her there for hours and hours before we finally gave in to our desires to fuck each other senseless—were dollars-intended-for-cafeteria-plans very well spent.

Despite Gen being extremely comfortable in the expression and exercise of her sexuality and the fact that the two of us had spent the last eight months being more or less inseparable (metaphorically and literally), it was pretty clear that Gen shared a much more "PG-rated" version of our relationship with her family. We held hands at her house, but that was about it (when others were around). Sex was by no means taboo in her household growing up; her parents talked openly with her about her boyfriends, healthy relationships, and sexual health. She told me that she just wasn't quite ready to break the news that their innocent girl...wasn't...anymore, although I had the suspicion that they already knew more than they were letting on. I didn't feel particularly threatened by Gen's dad, but there was definitely a sense of "I know how close you are... you best not hurt my little girl" tacitly communicated in facial expressions and pointed glances over the watermelon and potato salad during the family's summer backyard barbecues.

Despite what Gen's parents did (or did not) know, I was almost certain that Lindsay knew nothing. Yes, Lindsay was a senior, but she came off as being a more more flirty, innocent girl, sharing stories about spending time with her current beau at the local pizza parlor and blushing furiously when she caught a glimpse of Gen and I kissing one another goodbye on the front patio at the end of the evening. When Gen and I were alone, Gen exuded a smoky and intense sensuality; Lindsay's demeanor was much more "giggling girl next door." This is not to say that I didn't find Lindsay to be good company—she had an infectious laugh, piercing blue eyes, and, to be totally honest, a body that was more than easy on the eyes. She typically hid her curves under baggy t-shirts and cargo shorts, but every now and again—in her lustrous one-piece swimsuit in the backyard pool, arriving back at home from track practice in her Spandex running shorts—I could see that she was quickly blossoming into a gorgeous young woman. I was completely smitten with Gen, but that didn't mean that Lindsay hadn't crossed my mind once or twice when I lay in bed late at night stroking myself and letting my mind aimlessly wander from one fantasy to the next...

* * * * *

There was a long pause on the telephone line. I could hear Gen's breathing in the silence. "Gen?"

"I told her," Gen finally whispered. "I told her that we've been having sex since November. She looked absolutely scandalized." The line went quiet again.

I laughed out loud before I could catch myself. It seemed ludicrous to me that a self-assured, sexually liberated woman like Gen—the girl who didn't hesitate to march downstairs to check out the dorm DVD player so that we could watch her secret stash of porn together...the girl who grinned and stitched like a cat when I shot my cum across her belly and breasts... the girl who shrugged and stripped off her clothes and frigged herself to a shuddering climax in the passenger seat of my car in broad daylight on the way home from Vegas—would become so bashful about answering a straightforward, factual question asked by her sister. Gen didn't say anything, and I suddenly became concerned that I'd missed something critically important about their family dynamic over the last months. Lindsay didn't seem to be particularly prudish, but...

"I'm sorry Gen. I didn't mean to laugh," I back-pedaled. "It's not funny at all, it's just that—"

Gen interrupted. She didn't sound upset, but her voice had grown even quieter, the words barely audible over the hum of my air conditioner and the background hiss of the phone connection. "She started asking a million questions. She wanted to know what we'd done. She wanted to know if we were being safe." There was a pause. A breath. "She wanted to know you look like. How it feels when I touch you. What it's like when you're moving inside of me."

My tongue felt swollen and my throat suddenly seemed dry. This was...not exactly how I expected that this conversation was going to go. My imagination sprang to life, conjuring up a fleeting image of Lindsay's wide, blue eyes as she asked about how it felt to have my cock sliding up inside of Gen, and I felt myself quickly hardening in spite of myself. I swallowed and ventured a timid, "So...what happened next, Gen? What did... what'd you tell her?"

Another pause. A swallow. An exhale—building resolve, perhaps?

"I pulled her into my room. I closed the door. I told her that she had to promise not to tell Mom and Dad." Gen paused. Another breath. Then, a bit faster, a bit more intensely: "I told her everything."

I gulped. I could feel my heart galloping now, partly out of embarrassment—what the fuck was Gen thinking telling Lindsay any of this stuff? She's a kid!—and partly out of...excitement? Was this a spark of exhibitionism flaring up from someplace deep down inside?

"Gen... what do you mean... 'everything'?"

It was as if a gate had been opened; Gen's words began tumbling out with hushed urgency. "Everything. I told her that I knew I'd fallen for you after that first kiss after the Halloween party. I told her how you tasted and what it was like to feel you wrap your arms around me. I told her that I seduced you Thanksgiving weekend, and how we fucked all weekend long because you were so excited that your dick never really went soft. I told her about how we had sex in the cab of your truck after the winter formal. How we went back to the dorm and I rode you to three orgasms before Bree came home."

I licked my lips and adjusted the throbbing erection now tenting my shorts. "Four," I reminded her.

"Oh, fuck. Three? Four? Does it matter?" Her voice was steadily rising in pitch. She was almost panting now. "I told her about the Vegas trip. I told her how you'd confessed to loving the taste of my pussy." (I do.) "I told her about how you licked my pussy in the hotel for hours and how you made me pass out with your tongue and your fingers." (I did.)

I heard her gasp. Was she touching herself while she was telling me this? My breath caught in my throat and my cock pulsed.

"I told her about the ride home, how you made me expose myself..."

"Made you?" I interjected.

She whimpered. Yep, she was definitely masturbating now. "Well, I had to cum for you. Had to cum...." She trailed off for a moment. Another loud swallow. Quiet squelching sounds in the background. "I told her how hard your cock gets. How soft it is on the outside when I touch you, when I take it in my mouth. But how you feel like steel inside of me. How it makes my insides pulse and ripple when you're fucking me. How it takes my breath away when you twist my nipples and pound into me from behind...."

This was unreal. Confessing all of this to Lindsay had completely melted her brain. My willpower began to crumble as well as I heard Gen softly panting. I slipped my hand into my briefs and curled my fingers around my cock, trying to replicate the sensations of touching my cock that Gen was trying to describe from her point of view.

Gen continued babbling, narrating our various escapades, describing the taste and texture of me and the effect that our sexual exploits had on her body. I could feel the pleasure building as I slowly began to stroke in time with Gen's words, squeezing myself hard when she stopped to gasp or shudder. Before I completely surrendered to the sensations that Gen's narrative was spinning into reality, however, there were two things that I needed to know.

"Gen?" I pleaded when she paused to take a shuddering breath. "Gen, did you tell her about our box of toys?"

Gen whimpered.

"Did you tell her about how I tie you up and have my way with you? That you...like it?"

Gen's whimper grew into a moan and then into a howl. She was cumming. She didn't answer, but I had a pretty good suspicion about the answer to my question. She'd confessed to her sister that I dominated her and that I'd made her my slut. And it turned her on to spill the secret to Lindsay.

My cock throbbed and I had to stop stroking and squeeze myself hard to stop myself cumming as well. There was one more question that I had to know the answer to.

I waited while Gen caught her breath, her panting slowing just a bit as she came down.

"Gen? What did Lindsay say?"

Another long pause. Several deep breaths. The suspense was killing me. I was a hair's breadth away from exploding.

"Gen?"

"She... couldn't stop shifting her weight on the foot of the bed," Gen panted, her voice a whisper again. "Her breathing got shallow, too. She... her... she was squeezing her thighs together...."

Gen swallowed, hard, and I closed my eyes.

"She wants to see... She wants us to show her..."

My eyes popped open. I swore I could see stars. This couldn't be happening.

"She wants to watch you fuck me... She wants to watch you tie me up and make me cum...."

I groaned as time slowed to a crawl, my balls began to tense, and a roaring began to fill my ears...

And then I heard a new sound, a quieter sound. A higher-pitched gasp. Lindsay?

"She's here," Gen whispered again. "She came back into my room, and she told me to tell you. She told me to tell you that telling her turned me on. She wants us to show her... She can't stop touching herself, either...."

And that's when I came. A glorious, from the tip-of-my-toes to the top-of-my-ears orgasm... ten or twelve intense pulses of absolute ecstasy. My hand, my shorts, and my chest were all thoroughly covered in semen. I hadn't cum so hard in I can't remember when. Gen, the little vixen. And now Lindsay, too....

It took a long time for the world to stop spinning. As soon as I had my wits about me again, I sat bolt upright and cast about for a clean pair of shorts and a towel. My dick was still half-hard in anticipation, and it wasn't going to be going soft anytime soon. I couldn't clean myself up fast enough before grabbing my keys to race over to Gen's parents' house to spend the evening indulging both girls' darkest fantasies....