Julia, Ben and Lisa Ch. 14

Ch 14: Monday

A few quick notes:

1. this is the fourteenth chapter of a longish story, a novel in many chapters

2. everyone is 18+

3. there is no safe sex here - cause it's a fantasy, not an instruction manual

4. crossdressing and gender bending, not everyone's cuppa tea - be forewarned

*

I woke up late, almost 9 o'clock, but felt great. I was excited to tell Julia my idea. As I got out of bed I stopped in my tracks: Angela. Today was the day. She'd invited me over for noon. My Julia idea took a back seat then. Had to. I felt like I should be doing pushups or something to prepare myself to be my manliest best.

I ran down to find an empty kitchen with a note on the table.

Dear Sleepyhead, I've been waiting breakfast for you since 7 this a.m. Can't wait any longer. I'm taking off to the lab to try to get that work done. Finally (I hope) - it's my 3rd try! I think you have an even better plan for the day. Be yourself and have fun!!! (You don't have to marry her!) I can't wait to hear the details later tonight - be home around 5.

Love and XOXOX

Julia

I sniffed at it but it didn't change. Julia was deserting me in my hour of need? It made me laugh, all of our work together me being a girl, and now that girl was going to be with a girl and no girl to coach me. Well, I guess she only signed on as coach for when I was the girl, but the whole thing made me laugh.

In another way I appreciated the alone time. That and the feeling that she trusted me to get this done without her coaching. Like the time our director in my sophomore year encouraged us to ad-lib a few scenes in the spring musical. When you get that right it's quite a rush.

Funny but my confidence was great right up to the point I got in my car. I pulled out of the driveway and saw Mr. Sanders bending to pick up his morning newspaper. I waved at him but don't think he saw me or heard the car. Old age I guess. Seeing him brought back everything from yesterday and suddenly I was consumed with fear again for Julia. Here I was laughing about her deserting me when I ought to be spending my time figuring out how to help her. It made me sad and a little depressed that I was being so selfish.

And you know somehow, the idea of being selfish, you know what it made me think of? Of Bobby of all things. Here I was on the way to his girl's house to do that thing (if I got lucky) with his girl after the things I'd already done with his girl behind his back. Bobby. My best friend since 4th grade. It occurred to me that I was being a total dick, and that there'd be hell to pay in fights with him once it all came out. Maybe not physical fights, that just wasn't the way either of us behaved, but in those long angry, practically can't-speak-without-spitting yelling and screaming fights.

And where was Angela's mind in all of this? Suddenly I realized it, feared it or realized it, couldn't tell which. I wasn't going to her house to get laid. I was going over so she could tell me that we'd made a big mistake and that she was sorry and that I should be sorry too. That we'd both just got caught up in emotions and had acted selfishly and stupidly. That maybe I'd taken advantage of her when she was upset. That she and I both owed Bobby a huge apology. That I'd been pretty much a dick. Which maybe I had been. Maybe Bobby would already be there before me, sitting on the couch as she let me in the door. Maybe they'd kissed and made up already. Maybe I was just a moron. That and a lying, cheating, back-stabbing prick of a whore of a girlfriend-fucker.

Did I even deserve a girl like Angela? What would she think if she knew half of what had gone on with the dressing? with Charlie? oh-my-God with Harry? with me as big a cocksucker as any girl she'd ever know, including herself. She'd never speak to me again. The whole mess was pretty pathetic.

I pulled up in front of her house with a feeling of dread. I knew I shouldn't be there, that I could just drive away. I would write her a long letter of apology and ask forgiveness. I could beg. I could grovel. I deserved it. It would be so much easier on us both.

But I couldn't back out, couldn't be a pussy to a girl who I adored. I at least owed her a chance to get whatever feelings she had off her chest. To sit there and take it like a man. I owed her a non-pussy guy. See, that was my Dad talking: when you screw up, apologize, take your punishment and act like a man. And I knew he was right.

I dragged my sorry ass up the front walkway.

Angela answered the front door two seconds after I rang the bell. Her hair was damp and she looked clean and fresh and shiny and happy all over. Lovely. Just heartbreakingly lovely. She wore a big, big smile and a cute and colorful sundress, sort of a low-cut V neck thing with spaghetti straps. Thigh length. Cute. Bare feet. Hairbrush in hand. Lovely.

Angela let me in, put the brush on the side table, and then pushed me back against the door to give me a long fierce French kiss, her sexy body pressed in along every inch of my own, her tongue lashing in my mouth. My head snapped. We both tried Hellos but our mouths were too busy and it came out gibberish.

So at least that part of it was settled. She couldn't be faking this.

We made out against the door like that for what seemed like five minutes. I was enjoying it immensely, the relief, the sexiness, and how her body and mouth fit mine. My hands went wherever they wanted. She did want me. I wouldn't have to give her up. I wouldn't even have to grovel.

The first warning signal went off in my brain. Old Henry seemed to have stayed limp through the kiss. You would have figured he'd get excited by the feel of her tender warm body curving into me, by the feel of her gorgeous lips and wet tongue. By her horny enthusiasm.

But not a problem. I figured, hey give Hank a minute to catch up.

"I couldn't wait to see you," she mumbled through the kiss. I squeezed her breast gently as an answer and made out some more.

Angela brought me to the couch. She sat back against the armrest and threw her legs over mine. Her skirt rose and I thought I might see her panties. No, but her thighs were so bare and fresh and pink and pretty. Still Henry was AWOL. She had my attention for sure, but now I had to monitor him at the same time. Angela pulled me in for another big tongue kiss and came off it licking her lips.

"Oh my God, so nice," she said. Angela twisted her torso to come in closer for another kiss, legs still draped over mine. Our tongues were flying together in and out and sucking and teasing. She reached for my hand and brought it over the sundress to her breast. I cupped and savored, rubbed my thumb over the nipple. Still nothing.

I realized she wasn't wearing a bra. Duh! No girl would with that kind of dress. It made me wonder whether she had on panties. As we kissed I glanced down at her bare thighs, my hand went above her knee and began climbing towards her pussy. Pubes. Slit. Moisture. No panties. She grinned and rolled her eyes, happy at my discovery.

"Oh God, Ben, I'm so horny for you..." She never finished the sentence, just jumped up and pulled the little dress over her head in one quick motion. The dress lay on the floor beside her. She stood before me in her living room, nude and blushing and happy. Even the sight of her small conical breasts, her engorged and rosy nipples, even the sight of her cute belly and pussy, even the sight of her gorgeous suggestive grin, and even when she leaned in, her hands on my knees and my hand cupping a firm, young tit, to kiss me deep again, even all of it together did nothing for me downstairs. I began to sweat.

For some reason I flashed back to 5th grade Sunday School, the pastor's wife, Mrs. Jeffries, haggard, pale and mean looking, telling us adultery was bad cause it meant a man had two wives, and that that was a dreadful sin, that that was the kind of thing that would send him straight to hell. I'm pretty sure she could have included two girlfriends, or a girlfriend and a boyfriend. Especially that last one. Now it was like God telling me: "No pussy for you my son, not till you straighten out that little cocksucking issue you have."

Henry and my testicles shrank further into my body, almost like he wanted to tuck. His timing really, really sucked. Possibly Henry was having a flashback and couldn't help it.

Whatever. He was out like a light.

Angela took me by the hand. I rose up into her body and she laughed and said, "Don't look so worried. Doors are locked. Alarm is set. Mom and Dad definitely at work. No parents, no cousins, no nothing. Just us. No visitors today." She grabbed up her dress and led me up the stairs, her ass swaying gently at eye level.

I'd never been above her living room before. We marched up and found her girlified bedroom. Sweet but kind of too much pink maybe. Altogether a bit jarring. A lot of sunlight and cool air and bright pink and girl stuff.

I deconstructed her interior design. Found it wanting.

She grinned as she locked us in and took me to the bed. The pretty sundress back on the floor. Angela knelt to unzip and unbuckle me, to discard my jeans and then my boxers.

"Aaah, there's the little rascal," she beamed. "Playing possum are we? Well, we'll soon fix that."

I pulled my shirt over my head, almost just for something to do, or just to prove to her I was still alive. Did she really want that Spice Girls poster? Now we were naked together. She kissed me and crawled on the side of the bed, my hand still attached to hers. I broke the touch and walked to the other side and climbed in, still sweating despite the break in the weather and the gentle A/C. We kissed deeply. She took my right hand to her breast and then directed the left to her pretty ass. She moaned and I could feel the wet against my thigh. We kissed and kissed.

From the corner of my eye I could see that "Hang In There!" poster, the one with a kitty cat struggling, two paws desperately clutching a clothesline.

I regrouped, touched her pussy; she was soaking. We kissed some more. I squeezed her ass. Kissed her tits robotically. I thought that I was, or that we were, doing all the right things. I was trying so hard.

Finally, "Ben, what's up? What's wrong? Am I doing...."

"No! It's not you, no, no, no ,no no. I just....I....I don't know."

Angela scooted down to my crotch and held my limp dick in her hand, looking at it with a confused expression. Like you'd look at a faulty appliance. A mixer that couldn't mix. A toaster that wouldn't toast.

She looked up confused. "Am I doing something wrong? Cause if I am I could....well....I could try..."

"No...I...I mean...it's definitely not you."

"What then? Do you want a blowjob first? I thought...What's wrong?"

Well, I definitely knew what was wrong, or at least thought I did. God, for starters, or at least Mrs. Jeffries in His place. But how could I explain that one? Bobby. I couldn't go there. Julia. Not telling that one. Harry. Guess again. The dick Mr. Anderson. Nope. All these people running around in my head and not a thing I could do to explain why I couldn't get a hard-on with the most gorgeous girl in the world (sorry Julia!) naked beside me waiting to get fucked.

Maybe if I bought time? Maybe it'd been too fast for old Henry? Not Angela's fault. Not mine. Just timing. I was starting to panic. She began to be supportive and understanding, which made me panic a bit more.

"It's OK if you just want to snuggle for a while. Really.... and girls say this can happen with any guy...I mean...if you still want....this."

I think it was the way she said "this", the way the word incorporated all the dreams I'd ever had of being with a girl, all the things she and I do together. And inspiration hit. My eyes opened wide with an idea. Luck o' my Greek-French-Italian-German heritage. "Maybe if I...you know...do you first like that?"

"You mean go down on me? Sure...I....what girl would say..." She looked pretty skeptical. What guy needs to eat pussy before he can fuck? But she'd said yes.

I slid down and we stretched her out on the bed. Angela spread her legs and I dove in, trying to remember how it had all worked a few days earlier. And somehow I did remember. A kind of muscle memory, or tongue memory. Start slow. Which I did, so it took a while to get things going. Angela's pussy was still moist but no longer sopping wet. She looked down between her thighs, still puzzled, worried.

But slow was good. Some kisses on her thighs. Slow. Then kisses and licks along the slit. Her head sank back to the pillow, no longer inspecting me. Good! More kisses, more licks. Taking my time. Good! More soft kisses on her thighs, her knees, her ankles and back to her thighs. Lapping, kissing, licking and smooching at her lovely little motor. Hands pressing gently to spread her. Wide, wide open. The tip of my tongue gliding up, just barely penetrating the swollen lips. Nectar. Good! Suddenly, a tiny moan from her. Really good! Kept it slow. Spread the lips of her cunt. Good! So fair and fine! So sweet and dainty and feminine and pure and perfect. Find the nubbin. Circle the wagons, call in the National Guard, sound the alarm; all of us, right now, around the campfire, heave-ho lads! Good! Good, good, good. Multiple moans, her legs trembled, and one "Oh, Ben!" Tres bien!

Still taking my time, all the time in the world. Stud! Lapping and licking her soft and fragrant goddess. Good! Teasing her with thigh kisses and the teeniest little sucking bite. Double good! Back to licking and lapping and circling the clit. Continuous moans. Really super good. My finger inside her now, curled inside her cunt, first tentative, slow, letting her adjust, then forceful, then fucking her nicely while I pinpointed her sugar with the tip of my tongue. Good! Some babble, some incoherent sounds above me. Super good! A scent of roses, my finger out of her using two hands under her bum to raise her velvety vaginal vertex to my happy mouth, my face engulfed with pussy. Pussy everywhere, pussy my whole reality. A wet face and dripping chin, my tongue non-stop, slow sexy slutty circles, my finger back inside her. Curled and hit it.

Fuck the Spice Girls and let that cat solve her own problems. I had my girl!

"Oh fuck me Ben. Fuck me." Was the first time I realized, felt it on the sheet. Something had happened. I had to glance under my body to confirm it: Henry was an avenging god, a battering ram, the purple-wet hammer of Thor. Good, huh? "Oh, fuck me Ben. Please fuck me. Now. Please!"

I figured I shouldn't wait for a 3rd request. She hadn't cum yet but the roses told me she would soon. I'd learned that much. I raised up and climbed aboard. Her knees went up next to my hips, her hands to my shoulders. I could feel her hips roll, feel that delicious target tilt upwards, presenting, open and eager. Wanting nothing but fuck. Her eyes were unfocused, her mouth hung open, wet tongue peeping from the corner. My dick could have hammered nails.

Angela took him in hand and guided me home. The wet lips of her cunt split and I was half way before her face could register. Her eyes sprang wide open and a moan came from deep inside her. Angela wailed out, quieted, and then wailed out again. I reared back and plunged in to the balls. Once. Twice. A third time and she was cumming with deep, spooky, otherworldly wails.

I fucked her long and hard, my mind standing back in amazement. How had I not cum the first time in deep? I kept on, kept on fucking her. In and out like it was nothing to me. Stud. In and out like I could do it forever. Stud. She came that once. Her head lolled back, pink tongue out at the corner of her pretty mouth. My dick roared into her slick glove over and over, spearing her, feasting, and she came again, moaning and incoherent. Stud. Drenched pussy clenching and dragging on my happy cock. I kept going, fuck-drunk, thinking I could get her a third time, sweat pouring off me, but the good sweat this time, the sweat of a laborer who had earned his keep. Of a stud.

And then it happened. I went in deep, all the way, our pubic bones mashed together, she spread wider, held my ass cheeks, locking me inside her velvety love vice. The feeling started in my ass, the backs of my thighs, then rounded under me to my balls and then exploded over my entire body in waves of ecstasy. I pulled back best I could, plunged my tool in once more and then came in her like no man has ever cum in his girl before or since.

I'd call that good. In fact, quite good. Excellent I thought. The image of Julia, somewhere, smiling and adding a 3rd big line in the sky with her finger. I'd fucked a girl.

We collapsed together in a heap. Nothing said. Nothing could be said. We were dreamy, in our own space and time. We breathed, needed oxygen. The room redolent of cum and pussy. I touched her hand, thought she might be sleeping. Then hoped she wasn't dead. I wondered if I was dreaming or possibly dead myself. But no, not me. Not dreaming and not dead. This.

Minutes went through us. I watched her pretty breasts rise and fall rhythmically. I had to break the silence, "Angela?" I more or less whispered. "Angela?"

"Mmmmmmmm"

I wasn't sure she could talk. "Angela?"

I bent down to look at her pussy, the cum-slick lips puffy and still fucked open. I smiled.

"Angela?"

"What my love?" So she was alive!

"I....was it....?"

She cut me off. "No. It was better than whatever you're going to say. Way better." She reached, squeezed my hand and rolled on her side to look at me. "And if you had any other questions then the answers are yes, yes and yes."

She kissed my lips once and rolled to her other side, away from me, my wet dick against her ass. I reached around and cupped her warm breast and kissed her neck. I pulled sheets up over us.

"Yes it was my love. Yes it was." And we drifted into unconsciousness.

=====================

I woke up to a ticklish sensation and found Angela petting the pubic area above my dick.

"So soft, your skin. So pretty. How do you? You must wax it." She giggled.

"Um...yeah...well, sort of." I didn't want to mention the sugar. It seems too gay somehow.

She giggled again and said, "Maybe I should do mine? Matching?"

"No, no , no. Yours is perfect. Don't do a thing!" I had a strong position on this.

Made her giggle some more and I watched her stroke me, still avoiding the dick, and watched her pretty little breasts swing and sway as her arms moved.

"Can I suggest something?" she asked.

"Sure. Of course. Whatever. You know you can."

"Well, I was a little worried about that at the beginning. You know? Like I was pooping out. But man, someone here sure loves to eat pussy." She grinned down at me, still petting my naked pube area. Henry began, much like the South, to rise again.

"What would make you say that?" We laughed together.

"But you were amazing. You fucked me so...oh my God, amazing... And I...I wonder...if you want to go again I mean, I wonder if this time...you know...well, if I could fuck you?"

For a queer second I thought she might mean my ass. But no. Thank God, no. She didn't wait for an answer, guess we'd both already said yes to whatever, and it was all good. Old Henry was ready, willing and able. He looked like a normal hard-on this time, not maybe a weapon of mass destruction but at least like a normal dick ready to fuck his very normal and very lovely girl however she wanted.

She shifted one leg over my body to straddle me, her cute coochie on my bare pubic area. I could feel her wet, my dick somehow risen up behind her cradling the crack of her ass. She rose up on her knees to get the head of my cock below her slit, set her face to fuck-mode, reached below to take hold of that young gentleman, my young Henry, and slowly sank down to impale herself. Not soaked but some nice gooey moisture there. A normal cunt for a normal cock.