I Got Caught in Girls Underclothes Ch. 10

"Carol said you might like a bit of this," and the bed shook a little and the next thing I knew, a warm moist mouth was wrapped around the head of my penis. "Do you like it?" Then there were hands rubbing my chest and moving about. There were hands everywhere. I was getting felt up shamelessly by both girls.

It's amazing how aggressive girls can be when they know you will ever know who they are.

"You need to take it easy," and I groaned, "with that mouth. I can't handle much of that. If... if... you girls like, I could do you too." I groaned as they continued. There was a pause and I think they switched off with the oral. Both of these girls knew what they were doing. It was a bit of downer as I realized why they were so proficient and thought of the assholes I'd fought with forcing them to do this.

I shrank as I thought about it, "Are you ok? You suddenly don't seem to be in the mood."

Apologies burst forth, "I'm sorry. I should have said this first thing. You don't have to do this. You girls don't owe me anything. I mean... I could understand if you didn't want to."

"Carol said you were a sweetheart. If you're serious, I'd like... to have some oral."

From somewhere else nearby, "Me too."

"Well, it's one at a time, but if you don't mind, if one of you could get... next to my face," and I paused as my next request might be too much, "I'd really like to make love to both of you. Is that ok?"

"That's why we're here," and I felt the other girl straddle me and guide me to where she wanted me. She was wet. If Sis was right, and she always had been, that meant she was definitely ready. I felt her lower her weight on me and in an instant, she had all of me. I heard a satisfied "mmmm," and my cowgirl began to ride.

The girl who positioned herself near my face opened her legs. I really, really wished I could take off the blind fold. I could smell a nice aroma. It wasn't too strong. Not like any I had experienced, which admittedly was limited. The girl beckoned me, "Just rest your head on my thigh and start when you're ready," she giggled, "This is going to be fun!"

It took a few seconds to collect enough of my senses to begin delivering my part of the bargain to the girl whose legs my head was between. I stuck out my tongue and almost missed. If I could have seen, I would have gone right down the middle. Instead, I ended up just grazing the sensitive stuff; off to the side just a little. Nevertheless, from the shriek she let out you would have thought I had just taken her entire clit in my mouth. A slight adjustment and I gave her an open mouthed suck and then munched down on her. This was followed by a long drag on her clit which I stretched as far as I dared not wanting to hurt her. It didn't seem to be a serious concern. She shrieked again and began moving her hips like the girl who was riding me.

The girl that I was pleasuring with my mouth suddenly went rigid and let out an extended grunt as her legs clamped down on my head. With her legs locked, she bucked several times against my face and then as suddenly as it began, she released. I drew in a deep breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to smother you. It's... been a long time since I... received." She sounded wistful.

The other girl hadn't stopped and my balls were tightening, "Unless you want... everything, you've got to stop."

"Oh no. I want it all," which is what she got. I'm familiar with the point of no return and reached it just as she finished telling me she wanted it. Good thing she wanted it. I pumped five or six times and felt and heard her climax start when I was almost finished. With her fingers digging into my sides, she squirmed her hips several more times and I ran hands up her thighs and to her abs as she worked me. She had some serious abs under a little padding. I'd have to pay more attention to our cheerleaders. Maybe I'd see these abs again.

The girls were ready to switch and I suggested, "You may want to get some hot wash clothes. Si..." I had almost said 'Sis likes a hot washcloth after.' That was almost a serious mistake, "I hear some girls like a warm washcloth after."

The bed shook a little and I think I was alone there, "Do you want us to bring one for you?"

"I guess." I didn't really care as I didn't mind mixing their creams. I heard the water run and a couple of minutes later the bed was disturbed as the girls positioned themselves. I was prepared this time and slid my face up close enough to be tickled by a fuzzy little patch. She let out a little moan as I disturbed her bush. The one getting ready to ride me wrapped me in a hot washcloth. I tried to control a grunt.

"Sorry," and she continued scrubbing me. With a few seconds of up and down agitating, I was both clean and erect. The cloth came off and I felt a knee on the bed beside me and then a little bobble, and I was mounted, again!

I had my senses this time and was able to get to business on the girl whose pussy was in my mouth and still had enough of my faculties to try imagine who I was making love to. I kept both hands busy, one on a thigh of each girl.

If you are having sex, it has to be with someone. At least I need to think of someone. I couldn't just stare into the blackness of the blindfold without trying to make it someone. I cycled through all of the cheerleaders in my mind to see if these girls felt like one I was envisioning. I went through all of them. It was frustrating not to have 'someone' to be making love to. I tried to lock onto Carol, then Bonnie even though I was certain it was neither of them. I was certain I would have recognized Bonnie. She had a great pair of breasts. These were ok but not Bonnie. Neither did they 'feel' like Carol. I had to settle on someone. Even with the blindfold on, I closed my eyes to see who would come to me. I hadn't expected it, but Sis came to me. I knew it wasn't her, but once she was in my mind, she wouldn't leave. I worked harder.

The girl I was eating out came first. Her body spasmed. It was a different feel than the other girl had been and she was quieter. Still very satisfying to drive her over the edge with my mouth. When she finished, she said, "Sorry. You already had me aroused. I just... couldn't stop myself."

I told her, "You were great." Was it appropriate to tell a girl she had a nice pussy? I decided against being that bold and left it at, "Anytime you want eaten out, just call."

She giggled, "I just might do that."

Having just climaxed recently, things were taking their time building up, but not my cowgirl. She was moaning loudly. For me, my ego helps out when a girl lets me know I'm doing a good job. This girl was saying it loud and clear. She kept riding after her orgasm and in a moment I was squirting too. I was sweating and breathing heavily.

The three of us lay in bed a few minutes calming back down and I had to say a few more words, "Two things. One, you two are amazing, and two, I know you two said you weren't here for guilty consciences and I really want that to be true. Tell the other girls that if they have any doubts, don't come. I'll never know who it is anyway and I really don't think any of you owe me anything. We were all even when you apologized. You guys give good apology." This produced laughter and a couple of kisses on the lips.

When the formalities were done, the two girls stopped and began examining the remnants of the fight. Fingers gently traced areas of my chest. Then one gently pushed indicating they wanted to see my back. I could hear sympathetic murmurs, "Is this where they kicked you?"

"I guess. It's pretty much all healed. Not much left. Don't worry. They don't hurt."

Then some different murmurs and they began tracing lines down my back, "They didn't do this. This was that girl whose," and her voice lowered like she might embarrass me, "Whose panties you wore in the locker room. Are these going to heal?"

"Not sure. The doctor said I might have them for a long time."

Impressed, one of the girls said, "You must have really done some stuff to her for her to do that!" Then a question, "Was it Carol?"

"No. Not Carol," came out as a sigh.

"Mmmm. Whoever she is, you like her don't you?"

As I've said, I'm not good at keeping my feeling from showing. It shows in my voice and may face, even with a blindfold on, "Yes. I did. But I don't want to talk about her."

Feeling they had gotten into a private area, I heard a pair of 'sorrys.'

As if looking at a watch, "Oh. We've got to go. You wait ten minutes before leaving this room. Carol says that's a rule and you need to put the sheets and stuff in the tub."

"Ok. Good night ladies." They giggled.

When I heard the front door close, I got up and gathered up the sheet and the stray washcloths we had used. All were placed in a pile in the tub.

It had been a good night. I had eaten out two girls, they had reciprocated, and I'd made love to them for real, and made love to a third in my mind. Damn, I wish she'd call me.

Mom was in the kitchen having a cup of coffee in her night gown. I'm sure she was waiting up for me, "How did the therapy session go?"

"Ok I guess. I'm still finding out how bad those girls were treated. I'm really starting to hate those guys."

She laid a hand on mine and gave me a comforting squeeze, "Hate is a strong word, but I understand. I have a daughter of my own and I'm none too happy about what they did to you either," and she gave me deep gaze straight into my eyes, "You're a good person Tyler. Now, if you don't mind, I'm up past my bedtime."

A few minutes later I was in bed and wrote a short text to Sis: 'you ok down there?' I had just about given up on getting an answer, but I couldn't stop.

The night had worn me out and I dozed off while jerking off to Sis without finishing. If Mom came in, she found me on top of the sheets with my fingers wrapped around myself. God, I hope she hadn't come in.

Carol was waiting by my locker when I arrived. She was grinning at me, "So, how did it go?"

I guess I had gotten in the habit of short answers to personal questions dealing with the counselors, "Ok."

"Ok? Ok? Is that all you can say. I know two young ladies who will be hurt to hear that."

"Alright. It went better than ok. It was actually great. There. You satisfied?"

She punched me on the shoulder with a bony knuckle. I flinched, "Ow. That hurt."

Her face grew serious, "Oh. I know you can handle a little pain, actually a lot of pain. My little punch isn't going to hurt you. The girls were... satisfied."

"So I say they're great and all you have for me is... satisfied."

"I don't want it to go to your head. Besides, it was like pulling teeth with you. On the positive side, if any of the girls had doubts, they won't after they talk to..." and she paused. I think she was on the brink of giving me names, but caught herself. "The girls from last night."

Time for a question from last night that kept niggling at me, "I was thinking about it last night. You need to tell me what it was like for you and the girls... during the last three years. The girls last night... it didn't seem like it was very good"

"Hmmm, Ok. Some time." It wasn't a commitment but I wanted to know and wouldn't let it drop.

"One last thing. If anyone doesn't want to, I'm ok with that. You don't owe me anything. Make sure they know that. Please."

"Hmmm, your sweet, but they already know." Then it was time for class. She hugged me and we went our separate ways.

Friday night I wrote a short text to Sis. I thought I'd try small talk: 'hows school going? schools started here but I guess you know that . its Friday night but nothing going on. feels strange this year without football. all of us are getting counselled. It's a big pita.'

Our football team lost its second game to open the season 0-2. Ours was a team that had visions of going undefeated before the season. I guess we'd see how Dads strategy with the car worked.

Sunday night came and I knew that my last text was not getting any more response than the others. It was depressing and but for the fact that Mom apparently was speaking with her weekly, I would have really been worried. Now I was just pissed.

Curiosity got the best of me, "Mom. Is... Sis ok?" I didn't want to sound as bad as I felt.

She gave me a sympathetic look, "She still hasn't called you? She said she would. What is going on with you two?"

The only thing I could say was, "I don't know Mom." It was the truth. I didn't know what was going on with Sis, but said nothing about what might be going on. What was I going to say? 'Golly Mom. Do you think it had something to do with us having sex for two weeks while you and Dad were sailing?' Couldn't say that. There was only one person I could talk to about it and she wasn't answering.

Clearly unhappy, I turned to leave. Behind me, "I'll talk to her."

Sunday night I got a call from Carol, "Was last week ok with you?"

I knew what she talking about. I suppose she was calling from home and didn't want to say something too specific. "It was good, but I'd really like to do this without the blindfold. If we could." I didn't expect any help here and that's what I got.

"No. Sorry but it's easier for them this way. They're all wanting to avoid any... complications. Besides, what have you got to complain about? You'll get to... MEET all of the cheerleaders."

"Do you know what it's like to have sex with someone and not have any idea who it is? You know it has to be someone, so in your mind you just keep going over the possibilities. It's not nearly as satisfying as you'd think."

"Was I one of the possibilities?" she asked expectantly.

"Yessss," I hissed, "You were but it wasn't you. Or Bonnie. I'm sure I would have known."

"So did you settle on someone?"

I had, but that info was not for Carol, "No. I finally gave up."

"Is it so bad? We could stop if it's causing you... problems."

In my current situation, this was the only thing that provided a decent distraction, "No. I'm fine. Every horny teenage boy in America would kill for this. I'm great." I'm sure I wasn't very convincing.

Carol laughed, "Well. Got to go. See you at school."

I drove the POS to school Monday. We'd picked it up over the weekend with the special tires. I tried to park it in a spot I didn't usually use, not where I would have parked the truck. It didn't work.

At the end of the day, I approached the car from behind. It looked ok until I got to the driver's door. The windshield had something on it. A couple of minutes of inspection revealed that it was a milk shake, probably chocolate. The Arizona sun had baked it to a nearly impenetrable opaque layer. I had to go fill water bottles twice and ended up using my Albertson's card (no one has an ice scraper in Phoenix) to scrape the sticky substance off the windshield enough to allow me to drive home.

Mom was upset when I called to tell her why I was running late. When I got home Dad came out with a bucket of water and some soap. He let me do it, "Gee thanks Dad."

"Well, at least they didn't do anything," and he chuckled, "to the paint," and he laughed again. It made me mad at first, but I looked at the paint and we both laughed.

The next day at my counselling session with Teresa, "I heard you had... car problems. Everything ok?"

"They just gunked up the windshield. Took a few minutes to clean it enough to drive home."

"Glad it wasn't worse."

It would be easy to fall into this casual conversation mode and the next thing I knew she'd be asking something serious.

Teresa was getting ready to try apply a little more pressure to hack my security. Her skirt was a little shorter than last week. Still within the socially acceptable range. A number of girls in school probably had them shorter, but not many.

It was time for me to try a more active defense. I'd hit on an idea on the drive to school this morning.

I looked her over trying to look discrete. If my the time with Sis had taught me anything, girls like to feel attractive. Like their efforts are appreciated and compliments can go a long ways. I didn't want to be blatant. My inexperience was actually a benefit here. It was easy to look embarrassed. I did blush when I stared at her legs a second too long on purpose.

Time to put the plan in action, "Sorry. Didn't mean to stare. It's just that you seem to be in pretty good shape. Do you run? It looks it." I tried to sound as disappointed with myself as possible, "I've not been able to exercise much lately," and I paused a few seconds for her to consider it and me, "with everything that's gone on. You can really go soft in no time. Even my arms are losing tone." I leaned a shoulder toward her, "Can you see it?"

Empathy is built into counsellor's genes, "No. You look fine," and she took the bait. She reached over and tentatively felt my biceps. They may not be the greatest, but I had worked out. I made a muscle and she responded, "No. It seems fine." She blushed a little. On to the next step.

"Actually, it's my legs that I'm most concerned with. I haven't run in weeks! I bet you run daily. Don't you?" and I played it as straight as possible.

She nodded and smiled, I'd seen this reaction from Sis. She was pleased with herself and with me for having noticed something. And it was harmless, really. She was still on her plan that said finding anything, no matter how far from the business at hand, that kept me talking could lead to something worthwhile, if I lowered my guard.

I reached for her hand and placed it on my mid-thigh. It caught her by surprise. "I'm turning to fat. Feel it." I had enough concern in my voice that I'm sure she wanted to make me feel better. That is what counsellors are supposed to do.

She gave it a small tentative squeeze, "No. You're fine," and without being too obvious, pulled her hand away.

"No! I'm sure yours are better," and as I said this I maneuvered my chair closer and took her ankle and pulled her nearest leg up over my knee. She was shocked but trying to remain cool, "Yours are way better. You lift weights some don't you Teresa? Let's see you do a leg extension. I'll be the weight." Without grasping her ankle, I closed my fist to make it look safe and put it against her ankle. Blatant touching would ruin this. It had to look innocent. I applied a little pressure with my wrist, "There. Do an extension."

She was caught. If she did anything but continue, it would look like she thought I was a pervert or worse that WE were doing something wrong, and that wouldn't help our communications. I had been careful to make it look like it was just two athletes comparing their results. She did an extension.

I openly admired. "Nice! Yours really are better." She did have nice legs, and with this short skirt and her leg up, I could see all the way to a set of white panties. That wasn't actually part of the plan. Her thigh bulged a bit. I could see the muscles straining against the pressure of my wrist on her ankle.

I moved to the next step, and took my free hand and grasp her about mid-thigh, right at the hemline and squeezed the muscle, "Keep it tensed," and I glanced at her thigh. I used my fingers and probed the muscles a little. I heard a small catch in her breath. We were there. "You have beautiful... muscles."

It wasn't difficult to look embarrassed. I could feel the heat in my ears. Something below the belt had swollen. Awkward but still part of the plan. I jumped up, apologizing all the way, and I looked down at myself. I hadn't found it necessary to leave my shirt tail out since Sis left. I knew she wouldn't be able to avoid moving her eyes to see what I was looking at. You can't avoid it. If someone looks at something like its important, you have to look too. If she'd had time to think, she wouldn't have followed my eyes because she would have known what she would have found, but she didn't have time to think.