Eighteen Candles

Craig broke the kiss with a gasp and pulled her long-sleeved top over her head. And that was when he noticed it: an angry, bright-red, crescent-shaped scar on the inside of her forearm.

"Ouch! How did you do that?" he said, holding her arm as he examined the tender wound.

"It's nothing," she said, and tried to pull her arm away.

"Nothing? It looks like -- "

"Craig!" She yanked her arm free and hid it behind her back. "You've got a half-naked teenage girl sitting on your lap. Don't you think there are better things to be interested in than my arm?"

He blinked in surprise, as if seeing her for the first time. She hadn't been wearing a bra. And as his eyes drifted down to her breasts, he wondered how he could have ever noticed anything else. They were perfection: ripe and round, full and firm. He wrapped his arm around her narrow waist and pulled her close, enveloping her nipple with his mouth.

She gasped as he teased her with his tongue, but all of her attention was on his swollen shaft as she rubbed him through his pants.

He groaned as she squeezed and kneaded him, her eager hand expertly working his stiff flesh through the fabric. He'd already pushed the back of her pants down and slid his hand inside her panties, groping her bum as he tried to get his own pants off with his other hand.

Beth, anxious to help out, started fumbling with his belt. Trying to ignore the painful looking scar on the inside of her arm, he used his free hand to help her shove his pants and boxers down around his ankles.

As soon as his stiff cock sprang free she wrapped her hands around it, biting her lower lip as she slowly pumped the thick length up and down.

Her eyes were wide as she played with it, gauging its size, feeling how hard it was. And then, without saying a word, she gave him a look that said, want me to suck it?

He answered by wrapping his fingers through her hair and pushing her head down until her mouth enveloped his cock.

Craig slumped back against the couch, his pants and underwear still around his ankles and Beth beside him on all fours, slowly bobbing up and down, slurping and moaning on his thick pole. He'd pushed her panties down so that her ass was completely exposed and he squeezed it as she sucked him.

He wasn't thinking about her age, wasn't thinking about the unwritten rule that said she was too young for him. He was thinking about how firm her eighteen-year-old ass felt, how good her wet, willing mouth felt. And what he was really thinking about was his balls, as she kneaded and fondled them, and how full they were getting. So full they felt like they were about to explode.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, and pulled his throbbing cock out from between her hungry lips.

"What's wrong?" she gasped, her mouth wet from sucking on him.

Craig groaned again as he squeezed his balls and the head of his shaft, trying to claw his way back from the edge. "Oh my god...I nearly came."

And then a realization hit him, maybe she'd wanted him to come. She was only eighteen. Maybe he'd been naive to assume this was going any further than a blowjob. Last time, he'd been lucky to even get a handjob.

"Unless that's all you wanted," he said. "I mean, I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's just -- fuck, sorry, I guess what I'm trying to say is...are we?"

She nodded, smiling at his awkwardness as she leaned back, lifting her legs and sliding her black pants and her tiny pink panties off. And then she settled back against the couch, completely naked, ready for him.

Craig kicked off his own pants and underwear and moved toward her, sliding between her legs, wrapping his arm around her waist, pressing his mouth against her lips. And that was when he noticed -- only for a heartbeat -- as she stole a glance behind him.

He stared back over his shoulder, wondering what she was looking at. But the only thing behind him was the table and the cake, its candle burning low.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. But her eyes betrayed her, and when they flicked back behind him a second time he knew something was wrong.

And that was when he saw it. Beth hadn't been staring at the cake; she'd been staring at the clock on the wall behind it.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "My aunt's going to be home at midnight. We've got less than ten minutes."

Craig's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What?!"

He leapt into action, hurrying off her as he scrambled to grab his clothes from the floor beside them.

"No, please, don't go! Not yet," she said, as she grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him back.

"Don't go?!" he whispered, struggling to keep his voice low. "You just told me your aunt's going to be home any minute!"

She shook her head. "No, we've still got time. I know she won't be home before midnight."

Craig's head was spinning. He'd been worried about what would happen if her aunt caught him drinking with her underage niece, he could only imagine what her reaction would be if she caught him fucking her on her couch. "I don't think so."

"Please," she said, as she tried to pull him back again. "I know I should have said something earlier, but I was afraid you'd leave."

"You're right, I would have. That's why I'm leaving now."

"Please, can't you just be fast?" She stole a glance at his still stiff cock. "You said you were already close when I was sucking you."

Craig stared at her in disbelief, trying not to think about her mouth and how nice it had felt wrapped around him, or her perfect, mouthwatering tits and the tiny triangle between her legs, waiting and ready for him.

She must have seen the look in his eye, seen his willpower crumbling. She quickly got onto all fours and bent over the end of the couch, wiggling her ass toward him. She looked back over her shoulder, and said, "What are you waiting for? We haven't got much time."

His cock twitched in agreement. What was he waiting for? Craig shook his head. He knew this was a bad idea, a really bad idea. But seconds later his clothes were back on the floor and he was behind Beth, his hand on her back as he lined his stiff pole up with her tiny hole.

She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes on his thick cock, still swollen from being worked over by her mouth. And as his knob pressed against her opening she gently bit her lower lip and braced herself against the armrest.

Craig slowly thrust inside her. She was tight. She wasn't a virgin, but she was really, really tight.

She groaned as he split her in two, spreading her tender pussy wide, and her fingers clenched as she clutched at the fabric of the couch. And that was only the head of his cock.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded, but he could see the strain on her face as she struggled to get used to his size. And then she put her hand on his hip, pulling him toward her as she glanced again toward the clock. "Hurry...please, hurry!"

Craig pushed forward and she groaned again. But this time the groan melted into a moan as she pressed her face into the armrest, biting the couch as she clenched the fabric between her teeth.

Normally, he would have gone slow, let her body relax and get used to his size. But he knew she was right, they were running out of time.

He held her hips in his hand as he slowly rocked back and forth, feeding her his cock. Long, slow strokes at the start, just using half his length. But as she got wetter and wetter, her muffled moans into the armrest meeting every thrust, he increased his pace. The strokes became longer, faster, and soon nearly every inch of his cock was thumping in and out of her sweet, snug pussy.

He glanced at the clock: five minutes to midnight. He worried they were going to run out of time, but he also knew there was no way he could stop.

He drilled forward, going as deep as he could go and then he held it there, his hips pressed against her ass, his cock buried to the hilt.

Beth gasped and arched her back, not sure she could handle his length. "Oh, fuuuuck," she groaned, "so deep..."

But he kept her there, impaled on his cock, his hands on her shoulders. Her pussy clenching and unclenching around his thick length as her fingers clenched and unclenched against the armrest, her long, painted fingernails nearly tearing the fabric.

"We've only got a few minutes," Craig said, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm going to have to go fast. If it's too much, just say so."

She looked back at him, the tear rolling down her cheek a stark contrast to the want in her eyes. "Don't stop," she whispered.

She braced herself against the end of the couch and he started fucking her again. Faster this time...harder...holding her hips as he used them to bounce her back and forth on his cock, her beautiful ass smacking against him with every thrust.

And every smack was echoed by a sharp gasp as she held onto the armrest like it was a life preserver, the only thing keeping her afloat as the pounding wave of an orgasm enveloped her.

Beth pressed her face into the couch, trying to muffle the long, loud moan that escaped her, still hanging on for dear life as he hammered her from behind, one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her hip as he drove her tight teen pussy back and forth, on and off his swollen cock.

Craig wasn't watching the clock. He only saw Beth: her tousled auburn hair bouncing wildly with every stroke; her right arm sliding from the armrest, too weak to hold on any longer; and her body, limp as a ragdoll as he continued his relentless assault.

But he knew it was nearly over, the end was coming and instead of fighting it he welcomed it, surrendering his body to Beth as she'd surrendered hers to him. He felt it coming, just a few more strokes.

And she felt it too. "Don't come inside me," she gasped, "just in case."

He couldn't speak; he only nodded. And with a groan he pulled out, jacking his cock as he came all over Beth's back.

The first shot fired out in a thick arc and she gasped as it hit her right below the shoulder blades. But before it had even landed a second and then a third shot came spurting out, their twin trails hot against her cool flesh. She collapsed on the couch, trying to catch her breath as Craig hunched over her, his face a mask of concentration as he coaxed the final few drops from his cock, groaning as they splattered against the pale white skin of her bum.

She twisted her head around, trying to see the mess he'd made. "Holy fuck," she said, still trying to catch her breath, "that's a lot of cum."

"Uh huh." He felt dizzy and off-balance after coming so hard, but he leaned over and grabbed a box of tissues from beneath the coffee table to help clean her up.

As Beth took a handful, she glanced behind him. "Oh my god, you've got to get out of here!"

He'd nearly forgotten. He twisted around and his eyes went wide when he saw the time -- two minutes to midnight. He jumped up, pulling his pants on as he snatched up the rest of his clothes. He carried them in a bundle as he hurried toward the door and at the last second he glanced back toward the table, where the candle had almost burned out.

"Do I at least get a piece of cake?" he asked.

"I'll save you a piece," Beth said, and shoved him toward the door.

He opened it and peeked out to make sure the coast was clear. Beth was naked behind him, and as he glanced back at her he had a sudden premonition, as if this was the last time he'd ever see her.

"Beth -- "

But she didn't let him talk; she pulled him close and kissed him hard. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but the memory of it would last a lifetime.

"Good night, Craig." And she shut the door, a sad smile on her face as tears welled in her eyes.

Caught off guard, he took a step back toward the door. He wanted to knock, wanted to make sure she was okay. But as he glanced down the hallway he knew time was running out. Her aunt could come walking up the stairs at any moment, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't be happy to find her half-naked neighbor standing on her doorstep.

He hurried inside his own apartment, shut the door and locked it. And then he walked toward his couch, dropped his clothes beside it and fell face down on the cushions, exhausted. His phone was on the table beside him. He reached for it and checked the time -- midnight.

He smiled as he thought of Beth across the hall, running around trying to clean herself up, putting her clothes back on and hiding the empty wine bottles and the two used glasses.

He closed his eyes and remembered her pale green eyes, her soft lips. He remembered the feel of her skin against his, the silkiness of her hair, the curves of her body and the taste of her mouth. And as he fell asleep he was happy, happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

He never heard the sound of the needle as it fell on the record across the hall, or the sad, sweet sound of Karen Carpenter's haunting voice as it drifted through the walls, singing of Rainy Days and Mondays.

* * *

Craig opened his eyes, squinting toward the window as March's first sunrise snuck through a part in the curtain. If he'd dreamt he didn't remember it, his thoughts were filled with Beth. The wine from the night before had left a sour taste in his mouth but the memory of her was still sweet.

He stood up, walked to the kitchen, poured water into the kettle and turned it on. He needed a coffee before he could even start to think about breakfast, and all he had was instant.

He sat at the table, waiting for the water to boil, staring at the closed laptop. He could almost hear his sister's voice whispering from it, warning that Beth was too young for him. And as he ran the math over and over in his head his sister's voice kept whispering the wrong answer...eighteen.

But it wasn't his sister that worried him; she was on the other side of the country. Beth's aunt was the real problem. He winced as he imagined what her reaction would've been if she'd come home even a few minutes early and caught him with her teenage niece, bending her over the end of her couch and fucking her from behind as hard as he could.

Eighteen. He poured a cup of instant coffee and sat down to drink it. He liked his coffee black. He sipped it, hoping the jolt of caffeine would erase the numbers scrawled all over the blackboard in his head. But the rule refused to go away; it lingered like the wine, reminding him of the night before.

He turned on his laptop, hoping to take his mind off her. And as he waited for it to boot he took another sip, gazing over the edge of his coffee cup at his sparsely-furnished apartment; it had never felt as empty as it did now.

He pushed the laptop away, and that was when he saw it. He must have missed it the night before when he'd swept the others into the trash. A rose petal.

He held it close, and when he inhaled its lingering fragrance the scent reminded him of Beth. Everything reminded him of Beth.

Craig brushed his hand back through his hair, trying to clear his thoughts, and wondered if breakfast would help. He opened the cupboard. There were six different boxes of cereal inside. He grabbed one at random and put it on the table beside his empty bowl.

And then he opened the fridge and lifted the milk out. He took a sniff and grimaced, and when he was done pouring the lumpy contents down the drain he slammed the empty carton into the sink.

He went back to his coffee cup. The rose petal was still beside it. He picked the petal up, careful not to crush it, and held it close again. And by the time he put it back down, he knew what he needed to do.

* * *

A half hour later he was across the hall, showered, shaved and dressed. He'd made up his mind; he didn't care about the rule. He just prayed Beth's aunt was as open-minded as he was. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if she answered the door and demanded to know why he wanted to take her niece out to breakfast.

He took a deep breath and knocked, desperately hoping that her aunt was either still asleep or, hope against hope, hadn't come home at all. And as he heard the soft sound of footsteps coming toward the door, he whispered, Please let it be Beth.

The door cracked open a few inches, and when he saw the pale green eye peeking out at him he thought for a heartbeat it was her. But the thick-framed glasses were a dead giveaway, and when he spotted the thin streak of silver that ran the length of her frizzy, reddish-brown hair he knew he was looking at her aunt.

"Yes?" she said, peering out at him with bleary eyes.

"Hi, umm..."

"Liz."

"Yeah, hey Liz, I'm your neighbor Craig from across the hall. And I was just wondering if, uh, if I could talk to Beth?"

She closed the door just a fraction, so that even less of her face was visible, and answered, "No."

Craig blinked in surprise. And then he spotted them, still lying where she'd left them: all of Beth's clothes, including her pink panties. And on the table beside them were the two glasses and the empty bottle of wine. Why hadn't she cleaned them up? If her aunt hadn't known what had happened last night, he was sure she had a pretty good idea now that he was knocking on the door.

"Please, I just need to talk to her."

"You can't. Please leave."

He knew she knew; he heard it in her voice. "I know you don't understand. But if you'll just -- "

"You don't understand," she said, cutting him off in mid-sentence. "I can't get her. Beth's gone."

He stared at her in disbelief. She had to be lying. Beth's clothes were still right where she'd left them. "When will she be back?"

"Never," she said, and went to shut the door.

"Wait a second -- please!" he said as he jammed his foot in the way. "I'm sorry, but I have to talk to her."

"No," she said, glaring at him as she tried to force the door shut. "Go away! Please...just go away."

He wedged himself into the doorway, trying to use his shoulder to keep her from crushing his foot. He knew she had to be in there. "Beth! It's Craig...I just want to talk to you!"

"I told you, she's not here!" her aunt cried, pushing against the door from the other side, trying to keep him from opening it any wider.

She reached her arm out, trying to shove him back, trying to push him into the hallway. And as the sleeve of her housecoat slid back he saw it -- a pale, crescent-shaped scar on the inside of her forearm.

His eyes went wide, but his shock at seeing the scar -- identical to the one Beth had -- was nothing compared to her aunt's reaction. She yanked her arm back, hurrying to pull her sleeve down as she tried to hide the telltale scar. And Craig used that opportunity to push the door wide open.

As it slammed against the wall she stumbled backward, pulling her robe tightly closed as she held her hand up, trying to hide her face from him. But he'd already seen it.

Craig walked around her in a slow circle, dumbfounded. She was heavier and even seemed shorter. And her hair was different, thinner, the rich auburn now faded to a dull reddish-brown and streaked with silver. She tried to avoid his gaze, but when he ducked down and peered into those pale green eyes...

"Beth?!"

She spun around, turning her back to him, and pulled her robe higher as she tried to hide her face. "I told you," she whispered, her sad voice muffled by the heavy housecoat. "I'm Liz. Beth's gone. Please, Craig, just go away."

He felt off-balance, as if the room had suddenly been turned onto its side. He had to be mistaken. This couldn't be real. But those eyes...that scar.

He stepped forward and when he took off her glasses she didn't try to stop him. She just stood there, motionless, with her robe clutched tightly around herself as she stared at the floor.