Secret Shawna

It's the unexpected that gives you the most reward in life. That's what I think I've learned so far in the last 25 years. 25 years is how long I've been on this earth, and the only other thing I've learned beyond the cliché of "Nothing is for certain" is that no matter how much you think you know, you really don't know anything. Looking back at my senior year of high school, I can now see that all three of these little pearls of wisdom go hand in hand when you get right down to it. They're all pleasantly connected in such a way that if you're not careful, if you ignore one of the rules, you end up paying the price of all three. It's a package deal.

The unexpected gives you the most reward... nothing is for certain... and no matter how much you think you know, you really don't know anything.

It's simple philosophy from a guy who doesn't really go all that deep. I can admit that, too. My life has been a simple one, and for the most part pretty uneventful. I got up and went to school every day, from the time I was in kindergarten to the day I walked that stage in the auditorium my senior year of high school. Never missed a single day, a feat most kids are either incapable of or too smart to pursue. I think I missed out a bit on a lot of the things people look back on fondly as they get older. But again, I didn't expect to miss out on much.

That was my problem. I didn't expect anything out of the ordinary, I assumed my life was heading on a direct course and I was possessed of ignorance only very young men harbor. I'm not saying I was a jerk or anything like that, though I know I had my moments. I'm just trying to illustrate my inability to really handle anything as I cruised through my eighteenth year of life. I believed I knew everything I needed to know, it was only when then unexpected showed itself that I had real problems. So, as you can imagine, I had a lot problems.

Most of these problems centered on women.

I didn't have much of problem finding a date if I wanted to, and while I wasn't one of the elite "jocks" or "popular guys" at my school I wasn't scraping the bottom of the barrel either. I was in the middle of the equation, in that gray area that allowed you to know and be friends with a great cross section of people. I got along fine with the upper class, but very rarely did their conversations go beyond themselves and the time-consuming high-wire act of actually staying popular. The bottom feeders were, to be blunt, nerds in the computer labs and library during lunch and they always had a good dirty joke. I liked them, almost as much as I liked the stoners and Goth-girls. Funny how we never had any Goth-guys, but I think for our particular group of Goth-girls, that wasn't really an issue.

I had friends in every clique, and while somewhere better than others, I had the common sense to be thankful for my neutral position. Anyone who has been in the extremes of the high school class game can tell you being a bottom feeder or even popular can sometimes ruin your life forever.

I wasn't a bad looking guy, standing at 5'11" and sporting a full head of curly blonde hair that I was always trying to keep combed straight. I had grown up very thin and skinny, but as my 18th year grinded on, I found myself filling out to actually have a pretty muscular frame. I decided to play football, even though I didn't really care for the game that much, and found my only talent to be knocking people over. But in my small town of 2500, a place where football took precedent over everything, it was considered a gift. To be honest, I would have rather been at home reading a book than be out there pounding and getting pounded. But, playing ball helped the jocks warm up to me, and since I didn't want to rock the boat, I played.

I took my studies only half-seriously, and my grades were good, but not as good as they could have been. Again, in hindsight, I wish I had been focused on the academics more rather than pre-occupied with women. That was pretty much all did as I went through high school; I lusted after women. My sex drive had kicked in very early, puberty starting in third grade and all. I'm told that I started early, and being one of the few to endure acne and body hair in the third grade forced me to learn good hygiene quick. As a result, later on I was one of the few acne free kids in high school, and I was also riding several years of youthful, pent up lust.

I'd been out with girls before, and I'd had the superficial girlfriends that really only wanted to hold hands or have someone to go to a party with. In the end, the chances for sex were pretty limited. I had been raised in a strong Christian household, and I worried a lot about my family finding out should I ever actually have sex. In a small town, as anyone can who has lived in one can tell you, there are no secrets. But I guess every rule has an exception, and that's what this story is about.

The school year was winding down, and graduation was like a gigantic finish line on the distant horizon. Most of us were running to it at a good pace, some of us sprinting and others lagging behind, huffing and puffing along. I was running at a good pace just happy to see the whole mess coming to a close. I wanted out of my one horse town, and I had received a few scholarships to attend a community college an hour out of town. Like I said, my grades were never really good enough to garner any awards large enough to send me to a big college. But again, that was my fault.

I had been tutoring one of my classmates, a girl that I can describe as being unfairly marked as a bottom feeder by the upper class. "I say unfairly marked" because she really had no reason to be spit on, but that's what happened to her nearly all the time. It wasn't that she was ugly. She was only a few inches shorter than me, had blonde hair, a great figure and a pretty smile. She wore flattering glasses, but why should glasses be an automatic strike against you? She always attired casually, but when she wore a dress, she gave every cheerleader in the school a run for their money. She was my age, and at 18, she was already sporting a body that did nothing but curve. Maybe that's why the other girls despised her so much.

I think Shawna would have been okay if she just hadn't shaved her head. She had the prettiest blonde hair as we grew up together, and she was always complimented on it. But when she moved to Alaska at the end of the sophomore years, and then came back at the beginning of the senior year, she had lost her hair. She had shaved it down to a buzz cut that gave her the most uniquely butch look I had ever seen. If people picked on her before, then they absolutely dogged her after that. She took it all as well as she could, and I could only say so much about it. But you could hear the horrible things people said to her, and the flat out mean pranks they pulled were getting to her.

Personally, I think her haircut gave the girls who were jealous of her already a superficial reason to bomb her.

Still, she always nice to me, and I really enjoyed being around her. We would often hang out after school and watch Looney Tunes for a half hour before we started her tutoring. Her mother was always at work, and her younger sister was always out with friends. We laughed at a lot of the same shit, and we always managed to somehow to put some thinly veiled sexual innuendo into our conversations. I see now that we had so much sexual tension between us, it was amazing we didn't snap sooner than we did. But like I said, I was caught up in my plans and banking on the expected and certain things in life. I never expected Shawna to be as bold as she ended up being.

We sat in her dining room, books strewn about the table as we poured over the Shakespeare classic Hamlet, which was one of my favorites. After seeing Mel Gibson in Zefferelli's version of the story, I was hooked and read the play from cover to cover. I had showed the movie version to Shawna to help put a lot of the archaic word play into context, which actually helped a lot. Hearing the words put in emotional context helped us both see the meaning behind Hamlet's faux madness. Shawna felt that it was both an act and a truth for Hamlet as he professed his insanity. I agreed with her, because to take on such an enterprise as he did, you'd have to be a little mad. And speaking in iambic pentameter can lead one to lose their marbles if your not careful.

"So do you think Gertrude knew about the murder?" she asked me rubbing her bright blue eyes, her glasses daintily hanging from her slender fingers.

"I think on some level she did," I replied as I took a drink of water, "But only superficially. Otherwise, why would she so trustingly have drunk out of the goblet at the end?"

Shawna frowned. "She knew. She was in denial."

"You think?"

"I think," she smiled. Her buzz cut was both bizarre and sexy to me, and as she let it grow out, I would often tussle her hair. It was fun to annoy her like that, but it was also kind of a turn on. I had never really seen a girl with short hair like that.

"Okay, I'm licked," I grunted as I stretched my arms out, "I'm done."

"Me too," she nodded as she yawned, "Want to watch a movie?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I gotta get going. I have about an hour to get home before dinner is on the table."

"How about a dip into the hot tub?"

"Are you kidding, I didn't bring any shorts."

"So?" she asked innocently.

I looked at her. "You just want to see me naked," I joked as I straightened up our books and papers.

"Maybe," she shrugged, but her eyes were focused on me intently. I felt my cock stirring inside my pants, and that familiar rush of sexual adrenaline as I realized she was flirting with me again. We had been flirting off and on like this ever since we met, and like I said, we had a lot of sexual tension between us. We were always hugging or touching one another in some way. Many times her hand had accidentally slipped and found my crotch, or when we wrestled my hands always seemed to find her breasts. We both never said anything about our groping, but it was an unspoken ritual between us.

"Well, I guess so," I rolled my eyes, feigning disinterest as my cock swelled.

"Good," she said and went upstairs to change, adding as she went, "Can you turn it on?"

"Can I turn you on?"

"The tub, you moron," she said, "You already turn me on."

I laughed and went to the tub. I pulled the heavy cover off and laid it on the wooden slats of the back porch. The yard was secluded from view of the neighbors by huge, thick cedar and pine trees, and I found that comforting. If I was going to get naked in the hot tub, I'd rather that fewer people see me. It was getting to the hot afternoon hours as the sun made its way to set. The gnats and noseeums were swarming in the shafts of yellow sunlight that broke through the dense cover of the pine trees on the property. I pulled my shirt off and kicked my sneakers away. My pants and socks followed quickly and finally, I took my underwear off. I stacked everything together on a nearby bench, stained to match the porch, and got into the tub. The water was hot and bubbling as I settled in. My cock was aching from anticipation, and I tried to calm myself. I didn't want to assume this would lead to sex. But when you're eighteen and horny, even the smallest gestures from the opposite gender can be a prelude to sex.

The sliding glass door opened and Shawna walked out to the porch. She had a bright blue towel around her, and I could see two, thin purple straps on her shoulders, indicating her bathing suit. She walked over to the tub and tested the water with her hand. She had removed her glasses, and I knew she must have been blind as a bat. Still, she moved as though her vision was 20/20, and she looked at me.

"How's the water?"

"Just fine," I said, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Just one," she replied as she flipped me off.

"I'll miss these witty verbal joustings we share," I muttered.

"You've been reading too much Shakespeare," she laughed, "Verbal joustings?"

"Whatever," I laughed. "Are you getting in?"

"What, can't wait to see me in a bathing suit?"

"Now that you mention it, lets see your swimming togs."

"Okay," she said and unwrapped the towel. My jaw dropped as I saw the small purple bikini. She must have seen the look on my face as she stepped up the small stairs to the edge of the tub and got in. Her skin was a milky cream color without a single blemish. Her breasts seemed to be larger than I had thought, and while I knew she was a healthy C-cup, they somehow looked to be bigger than that. As she stepped in, her tits jiggled a little, and I noticed the tips of her nipples created tension points in the thin fabric of her top. I couldn't believe how sexy she looked.

"Close your mouth," she laughed as she sat down opposite of me, "The squirrels are looking for places to hide their nuts."

"You look great," I managed, my cock fully erected at seven inches. The bubbles and swirling water hid the fact that I was holding my cock and gently rubbing the head. I couldn't help myself.

"Well, we have the place to ourselves for another 45 minutes," she said as she splashed me, "What do you want to do?"

I shrugged, knowing full well what I wanted to do. "I don't know... Play Marco Polo?"

"Shut up," she smirked, "Seriously, what do you want to do?"

I started feeling nervous as her every word seemed punctuated by a wet sexual reference, literally dripping with lustful dew. I was so horny I could barely see straight as I thought of what to say next. Shawna pushed herself across the water and to me until she was right in my face. My heart began thudding in my chest like a jackhammer as I smelled her perfume and looked at her. I could feel the smooth skin of her legs against mine as she kept her sea blue eyes locked on me. And then, I felt a hand on my upper thigh.

"What would you like to do," she asked again, her voice soft and enticing.

"I, uh," for the first time, I found myself speechless as she massaged my thigh, her hand only inches away from my cock.

"It's okay to be nervous," she said, "I just thought you might like this..."

"I do, Shawna," I laughed nervously, "Are you kidding? You're a knockout in that suit."

"You should see me out of it."

My mind ran at a million miles per hour as I pictured her naked. "I'll bet."

"Here," she said as her hand left my thigh. She reached up with both hands and pulled the small patches of fabric that hid her tits away and to the side. Her large, heavy breasts hung free, perfectly framed by her displaced bikini top. I had never seen breasts up close like this before, and I was mesmerized. I stared at her, taking in the way the drops of water rolled down her large slopes. I burned to memory every bump of her areolas, the texture of her nipples and the creaminess of her skin. She smiled at me.

"What are you thinking?" she asked me quietly.

"That I'm about fifteen seconds away from blowing my load in this hot tub," I said seriously as my virgin cock prematurely stiffened for the orgasm.

"Not yet," she said as she put her arms around me. I felt her pinch the back of neck so hard I winced in pain.

"What was that for?" I asked as I rubbed the back of neck.

"Are you coming?"

"No," I replied, and realized that the orgasm had indeed subsided for the time being.

"Well there you go," she said as she leaned forward and kissed me. I had kissed girls before, but never like this. Our bodies pressed together, and the sensation of her naked breasts against me, the feeling of her smooth skin against my own was almost intoxicating. Our tongues rolled together as we kissed and grinded against each other. Her hands were pushing me back against the wall of the hot tub as we began to sweat a little. I reclined back and she reached into the water, grasping my cock. She settled in beside me as she began stroking me.

"Have you ever had sex?" she asked me quietly.

"No," I said, enthralled in her strokes, "Have you?

"Yes I have," she smiled shyly and then asked, "Does that bother you?"

"No no."

"Have you ever been jerked off?"

"No," I said, my stomach doing the most amazing flip-flops as she worked my shaft.

She smiled. "Have you ever had a girl suck your dick?"

My heart was hammering now at the prospect of a blowjob. "No, never."

"Would you like me to suck your dick?"

"Yes," I said immediately.

Shawna looked at me. "Say it."

"I want you to suck my dick, Shawna."

"I love hearing the words," she said as she kissed my left nipple, letting her tongue play with it, "The words are half the fun."

"Really?" I closed my eyes as she began kissing down chest to my stomach. She stopped where my body became submerged and then went under water. I felt her kissing my cock , licking my shaft as she moved into position. Her fingers fondled my testicles as she came up for air.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes," I nodded, "God yes."

She winked at me and submerged again. I felt her kiss the head of my cock and then suck me into her mouth. It was so strange, not being able to totally see her sucking on me, but I think that fact is what made it so much sexier for me. All I saw was the back of her head, bobbing up and down as she sucked me off. I felt her tongue swirling around my head and then she sucked me in to the back of her throat. A minute later, she came up for air and went down again.

My hands felt like they would crack the fiberglass and plastic walls of the tub as she sucked on me. She must have come up and down for air four or five times before I came. I felt the orgasm begin with a vengeance as it rocketed through my body. My body spasmed involuntarily as I blew my load, a veil of stars skewing my vision. She came up, her mouth full of my cum. Some of it was dribbling out of the corner of her mouth as she swallowed it all.

She kissed me. "You taste great."

"Thank you," I huffed.

"Now, what do you want to?" she asked as straddled me, my cock slowly going limp.

"I think you know."

"Yes, but say it."

"I want to kiss you," I told her as I began kissing her neck, "I want to touch you and kiss your breasts. I want lick your pussy..."

"Mmmmm, what else?"

"I want to fuck you."

"You want to fuck me?" she asked playfully as I began suckling on her breasts, her hands running through my hair.

"Yes, I want to fuck you," I said.

"Then fuck me," she whispered, "Mom will be home soon."

"What about a condom?"

"I don't have any right now."

"Shit," I muttered, the idea of pregnancy scaring the hell out of me.

"You still want to?"

I was quiet for a moment, and then my cock won the argument.

"Yes," I said and started pulling her bottoms down. Her ass was so round and smooth as I pulled her bikini bottoms off and draped them on the side of the hot tub.

I had really wanted to eat her out, but because of our limited time, it would have to wait. She turned around and came up out of the water. She bent over and held onto the tub as my cock reached a full erection again.

"Fuck me," she said as she reached behind her and guided my cock in. I gasped as I slid inside, and I finally knew what all those guys in the men's magazine forums were talking about. We seemed to lock together in away I had never thought possible. In the darkened window of the house, I could see us in the hot tub as though it were a mirror. Shawna had her eyes closed, a faint beautiful smile on her lips as I began thrusting into her. I knew it wasn't going to take long for me to orgasm, so I enjoyed it while I could. Shawna took one hand began rubbing her clit as we fucked, my balls slapping against her as my humping became more urgent and primal.

I heard some rustling in the bushes to our left behind the big wooden fence. I strained to look over and see if anyone was watching, trying not to break rhythm as we fucked. One of the taller bushes that peeked over the fence moved back and forth, and I knew someone was watching. But I didn't really care anymore as I slid in and out of her. I felt a lot of inhibitions fall away as we melted together in the hot tub. I closed my eyes and enjoyed simply being there.