The Catch-Up Ch. 04

It was a hot day, so Bridget was wearing straight-legged, ripped jean shorts that reached just above her knee and a vintage Snoopy t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. As usual, her caramel-coloured hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a cap backwards.

As my gaze shifted sidelong towards her, I couldn't help but remember watching her in the same position as the blonde, with her head between Zara's thighs, making the college girl moan. Bridget had been topless, in her underwear, and I could still picture the glimpse I'd gotten of the side of her naked breast.

On screen, the redhead started to come, crying out and writhing in genuine ecstasy, as far as I could tell. The wet squelch of the blonde's fingers inside the redhead's pussy grew sloppy, almost deafening, and she sucked desperately at the other woman's swollen clit like it was a juicy peach.

"Jesus—" I bit out automatically. My erection was straining through my jeans now in a thick bulge that I tried to cover with my arm.

"Y-yeah..." Bridget said, voice cracking. She cleared her throat, self-consciously, and I saw her fingers rest on her knee, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Bridget and I lunged forward at the same time, hands fumbling over each other as we both slammed the laptop shut, cutting the orgasmic screaming off short.

"Yeah?" I shouted, sounding a bit panicked.

"I was just wondering if you two wanted any snacks! Everything okay up there?" It was my mother.

"Uh-uh!" Bridget and I called, almost in unison.

"We were just... watching a scary movie—" I said, looking helplessly at Bridget, who shrugged, grimacing.

Mum left us alone after she dropped off a plate of crackers and cheese, but we were both too spooked to continue our education for the rest of the day.

My next shift at Daisy Dairy, the bell by the door tinkled and I straightened from under the counter to see Gigi Cordoso and Eva Nassry walk in.

They would have probably turned heads wherever they went, both dark-haired 18-year-olds in great shape, with soft, light brown skin, similar in tone to mine, although much more bronzed in Gigi's case.

Gigi was the taller of the two, with more pronounced curves, as demonstrated by the form-fitting, baby pink minidress she wore, with expensive-looking sandals, her black waves held back by a white headband. Where she was glamorous and sensual, Eva was cute and petite, in yoga pants and a flowy, athletic crop top, wearing her dark hair in its signature, sleek high ponytail with a scrunchy.

I gulped. The last time I'd seen Eva, she'd gotten my cum on her face, and she hadn't been too happy about it. They were chatting as they walked in, but when she turned and took one look at me, she stiffened.

"Hey, guys," I said, trying to push through the awkwardness with a smile.

Gigi pushed her sunglasses up on her head, full lips curving into a smile. "Well, well, well... look who it is. Putting in the work as always. Cute look."

I gave a slightly weary grin. "Thanks. Gotta make a living somehow."

"Bet you're missing Mexico already," Gigi teased as Eva stared determinedly at her phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kiera come out of the back, refilling some sundae toppings, glancing over.

"Are you kidding me?" This was currently the longest conversation I'd ever had with Gigi, but oddly, having had her whisper dirty talk in my ear made this interaction a breeze by comparison. "I've got this camp counselor thing coming up later in the summer, though so that should be fun."

"Eva, aren't you working at a camp this summer?" Gigi said, turning to her.

Forced to look up from her phone, Eva stammered. "Um..."

"Silverbirch?" I asked.

I saw Eva set her jaw, cheeks reddening. "...Yup."

"Cute..." Gigi looked back and forth between Eva and I, clearly picking up on the awkward vibe. "I've never been to camp, but aren't the counselors always fu—"

"—Can I get you two something?" Kiera cut in, suddenly standing next to me.

Gigi arched an eyebrow, looking her up and down. "Didn't you dance for St. Mike's? I remember because we beat you guys at Regionals last year, right?"

Kiera gritted her teeth and put her shoulders back. She was a few inches shorter than Gigi, but she was able to make up for it with sheer attitude. "...Maybe? I don't know, I don't really think about high school dance competitions anymore."

"Yeah, I mean, you've totally moved up in the world..." Gigi smirked, eyes lingering on Kiera's uniform.

"Do you guys know what you want? It's on me," I said quickly, before things could get any uglier.

Gigi turned back to me with a smile. "...You know how to treat a girl, don't you? I'll have a scoop of sour cherry swirl and she wants a small vanilla soft serve."

"No, I don't--" Eva broke in suddenly.

"You always get vanilla soft serve, Eva. You just said you don't like any other kind of ice cream." Gigi frowned.

"No, I didn't! I'll have..." She scanned the menu board madly.

I realized suddenly why Eva didn't want to order a vanilla soft serve from me and had to bite my tongue to hold back the grimace. "Do you just want a soft drink or something?"

"Sure!" Eva said, still avoiding my gaze. "Cream soda—Orange! Orange soda. Thanks." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, staring at the floor.

I slid the bottle over the counter and Eva immediately headed for the outside deck, while Gigi lingered for a moment, looking after her. "...What a freak. I thought you two were friendly. Does she have a crush on you or something?"

"Pff--No, no... I'm sure, she's just..." I trailed off and handed Gigi her cone. "...here you go."

Apparently losing interest in the Eva mystery, Gigi took it and lowered her voice. "Hey, so... You're friends with Sadie. Do you happen to know if she hooked up with anyone on Grad Trip?"

I adjusted my hat, swallowing. "Uh... I think... Yeah, she did..."

"Yeah?" Gigi leaned in eagerly. "Is she still seeing him? Is he, like, from around here?"

"I think he is, actually. But, um... she said..." I hurriedly wiped down the very clear countertop. I hadn't seen much of Sadie since Grad Trip and it seemed like she hadn't changed her mind about us being anything more than friends. "...She said it was just a Grad Trip thing."

"Hm." Gigi gave a long, luxurious lick of her ice cream cone. "If it wouldn't be weird for her, could she, like... give him my number? I've just... heard he's a really great guy."

I was certain Gigi had no idea that the guy in question she'd seen with Sadie was me. But she was, technically, trying to give me her number. I drummed my fingers on the counter and lifted my chin.

"...Yeah, why not? If you give it to me, I'll pass it on."

Gigi licked her lips. "...Sick. You're the best." She grabbed a pen from her Prada handbag. "I can trust you to get this to him?"

"As soon as I get the chance."

She wrote her number on my forearm. "...Aw, I could eat you up. Thanks, chulo." She closed her full lips around the tip of her sour cherry cone and sucked, making me fidget behind the counter. "...Later."

She blew me a kiss and strode out the door, giving me an incredible view of her smooth, tanned legs, toned thighs, and the way her short, bodycon dress clung to her curves.

"Ay papi, I could eat you up..." Kiera mocked from behind me, slamming down a tub of ice cream, snapping me back to reality. "Did I hear that right? Did she just write her number on you to give to another dude?"

"Maybe it was for me... you jealous?" I asked.

"Ha!" Kiera shook her head pityingly. "Obviously, getting strung along by girls like that for four years has seriously skewed your perspective... tragic."

Used to the banter by now, I ignored her, looking down at Gigi Cordoso's number on my arm. Too bad there was no way I would have the guts to actually text her.

The day after, I had another lesson with Bridget, which I'd made sure to schedule for when my mum would be out, to avoid any more interruptions.

I booted up Streetfighter for our typical warm-up game while Bridget reached into her backpack and pulled out her small pipe and a canister of weed.

"In the house? C'mon, Bridge..." I started.

"—This is for you, too! It's all part of the lesson. Every time I've made a girl come we've been both been very high." Bridget dangled the canister temptingly. "C'mon... wanna check off another first on your list?"

I scratched my head. Maybe if it wasn't 2 P.M. in my parents' house, I would have said yes. "Nah, I'm okay..."

Bridget sighed. "Worth a try... Can I still smoke? I'll open the windows and we'll Febreze the shit out of here."

I shrugged. "...Fine."

Bridget went to go sit by the window and smoke up, while I played a few practice rounds of Streetfighter. When she returned, she joined in and after a few matches, I could tell she was well and truly blazed, and even though I wasn't, we were both getting giggly.

"Oh my god... let's start the lesson... I have the best idea." Bridget clambered to her feet. "Can I go down to your kitchen? Your mom's not home, right?"

"Why?"

"I'm just gonna go... Hold on..." With exaggerated sneakiness, Bridget scurried downstairs.

The first thing I saw when she emerged up the stairs a minute later were two of the peaches my mum got at the local Farmers' Market, which Bridget was proudly holding aloft.

"Oh no..." I groaned.

"Oh, yes!" Bridget's grin was practically maniacal. "It's time for your oral exam!"

With alarming vigour, she whipped out the knife she had put in her pocket and sliced open the first peach, removing the pit.

"Nothing better to practice on...Wet and sticky and sweet, just like the real thing." She passed me half the peach. "Okay... Use what I've taught you, grasshopper. Make that peach scream."

"Christ." I looked down at it doubtfully. As I lowered my mouth to it, I cracked up. "...This is so stupid. You have to do it, too."

"Okay, fine." Bridget grabbed the other half of the peach. "One... two... three... Service."

Getting over my embarrassment, I truly did my best to remember everything Bridget had taught me about eating pussy and give this peach the time of its life. I started off by teasing, just like Bridget had said, deciding in my head where the "clit" on this piece of fruit was, and then eased into slow laps up and down.

Pretty soon, there was sweet, sticky peach juice was covering my chin and lips and it wasn't actually that hard that to imagine that my head was between a girl's legs. At first Sadie's thick thighs and heaving breasts floated in my head—I knew exactly what her moans sounded like, but then I thought of Kiera's face, cheeks flushed, lips parted in ecstasy instead of smirking with sardonic humour. What did Kiera's pussy look like? How did it taste?

"Oh my god, you're actually doing it..." I opened my eyes to see Bridget chewing and swallowing her half of the peach.

"HEY! You were supposed to..."

"No, no, it's good, it's good!" Bridget hid her snickering behind her hand, mouth full of peach. "You're doing good. I'll just give you some pointers. Keep going."

Rolling my eyes and snorting with laughter, I returned to what I was doing, trying to get my groove back. Out of the corner of my eye, Bridget observed and gave me tips.

"Nice... easy does it... remember not to go for the clit until she's really warmed up—her pussy will be flushed and kind of like... engorged, I guess?"

"If your tongue starts to get tired, you can move your head. Relax your muscles, you don't have to tense up so much. Just make sure she knows you're enjoying it. Enthusiasm is key, like I always say."

"Now lick, lick, like that with the flat of your tongue. Suck on the clit. Switch it up."

At first It was weird to imagine eating a girl out with Bridget in my ear giving me instructions, but her chilled out, slightly raspy voice was actually pretty soothing. It felt like we were both slipping into a weird, almost meditative state of focus, and I was half-wondering if I'd gotten some kind of contact high from being around Bridget.

She'd gotten closer so she could see what I was doing, up on her knees just to my left, murmuring softly. I closed my eyes again.

"Yeah, just make out with it... mhm... really sloppy... that's good... keep licking, keep licking..."

I cracked one of my eyes open and saw that Bridget was fidgeting. Her thighs were squeezing together and her hand was on her neck. Her eyes were slightly hazy, half-closing, too as she watched, with the same rapt attention she'd focused on the porn.

I wondered what she was imagining as she stared.

"Okay, okay... stop," Bridget said, as if snapping out of it, slightly. I did, wiping off my chin hurriedly. "There's a problem here."

"What?" I took a bite out of the peach, which by now was truly a mess, but still just as tasty.

"You're not getting any, like... feedback from the peach. Pleasuring a girl is all about listening to her body. And her words. That's the only way to figure out what she likes."

"But I mean, this is just practice, right?" I said, swallowing and licking my fingers clean.

Her hazel eyes seemed to follow the motion as she chewed her lip in thought. "Yeah... I just... You should really practice on the real thing."

I snorted. "Sure... And do you know anyone who would be willing to get their pussy eaten for educational purposes?"

"Uh... I mean..." Bridget shrugged, took off her cap and ran a hand through her hair, looking down.

My mouth dropped open and I started to laugh.

"Okay, fuck you, never mind!" Bridget punched me in the shoulder as hard as she could, and I yelled in pain, grabbing at her wrist. She tugged and we scuffled briefly as she took a few more swings at me and I blocked.

"Wait, wait, wait, stop--You were joking, right? Right?" I stared at her.

"I..." Bridget paused. "I was... I'm... Like, if you don't want to..."

"No, I mean..." I said hurriedly. "I'd be..."

I trailed off and we sat there through a long, pregnant silence, my fingers still wrapped around her wrist, now resting limply on her thigh.

"I was just surprised because, I mean... you like girls..." I started again. I could feel my neck starting to grow prickly with heat.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm totally gay..." Bridget cut in, drawing her wrist out of my loose grasp. "...It would be only for, y'know, educational purposes, just like you said--"

"—Right. Right. Like, um... like when we were ballroom dance partners in gym in Middle School..." I blurted.

"Yeah! Exactly like that!" Bridget snapped her fingers, pointing at me. "Because we're bros and we're like... we know each other... so it wouldn't be weird."

"No! It wouldn't be weird... I don't think it would be weird... That's why... that's why, maybe, it makes sense," I said, picking at a thread on my jeans.

"Yeah, I think it makes sense..." Bridget rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm just gonna go smoke some more and then..."

Trailing off, she got up from the floor and went over to the window again, packing her pipe. She puffed away while I sat there on the carpet, eating the last half of peach and scrolling idly through my phone, trying to calm my nerves.

It was a strange, quiet couple of minutes. I could feel us both contemplating—were we actually going to do this?

I heard Bridget stand up, and she walked over to me, the pipe still in her hand. "Open your mouth and get ready to breath in."

The question surprised me enough that I just did it. Dropping down next to me on the floor, she sucked in her last puff and blew out gently, the soft cloud of smoke wafting into my mouth and nose, her face only a few inches from mine. Automatically, I inhaled, feeling the heady, earthy bite of the smoke fill my lungs.

"Hold it in..." Bridget murmured and I did, until my head hurt and I coughed, but only once. She snickered softly. "Okay, now you're ready."

She stood and unbuttoned her jean shorts, unzipping her fly, and I watched her shimmy them down her legs. Beneath she was wearing heather grey boyshorts, that were only a little shorter, and a little tighter than the boxer briefs I had on under my jeans.

"Hat?" I asked, my throat audibly dry.

"Oh, yeah..." Bridget said, quickly tossing aside her five-panel cap and tucking her long, tangled hair behind her ears. Leaving her hoodie on, she sat back down on the carpet beside me.

"Do you want me to...?" I gestured to my clothes.

"No—" Bridget said a little too fast. "I mean... whatever you want."

"Maybe just my shirt--"

"—Yeah, that makes sense," Bridget hurriedly agreed.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head. Nothing she hadn't seen before. Honestly, none of it was--Bridget's underwear wasn't any more revealing than her swimsuit had been. We still hadn't crossed a line yet.

"Should I... uh... how should we start?" I asked. Bridget had talked a lot about the importance of foreplay, kissing, groping, and touching before you got anywhere near a girl's "V". But somehow that seemed a step too far.

"Um... you can just... maybe start with over top?" Bridget hid her hands in her hoodie sleeves. I'd definitely never seen her this nervous, not with me, which made me feel a little better about my thumping heart and sweaty palms. I wondered if the weed was affecting me at all. I didn't really feel anything other than a slight headache.

"Sure..." I gave my hand a subtle wipe on my jeans, and Bridget uncrossed her legs enough for me to reach between her thighs. I swallowed as my palm pressed against the cotton, and the heat beneath. Slowly, I rubbed, with my whole hand.

Bridget watched my hand, breath slowing. Then I felt dampness, soaking through the thin material. "Oh..." She said, suddenly. "Yeah, I... I get really wet when I smoke, so... Should make things easier..."

All I could do was nod and keep rubbing, trying not acknowledge how strange this was--that it was Bridget's arousal wetting my hand, and also that we were doing nothing but sitting a foot apart while I massaged her sex through her panties.

This was nothing like the frantic, overwhelming encounters I'd had with Mackenzie and Sadie. It felt like we were two awkward, naive teenagers experimenting for the first time, a stage I'd somehow managed to skip over entirely.

But that didn't make it any less hot. As Bridget's thighs spread further and further, her breath grew heavier and heavier. "...Should probably take these off before they get stained..."

Bridget hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and rolled onto her back, lifting her hips, sliding the boy shorts hurriedly down her legs. Then she was naked from the waist down, and I was staring at Bridget's pussy. She wasn't waxed like Mackenzie and Sadie had been, but her trimmed patch of brown hair didn't make her pretty, pink folds any less tempting.

"Should I keep..." I hesitated.

"Yeah... If you want..." Bridget said haltingly, staying where she was, propped up on her elbows. As I reached forward, she spread her legs, and my hand brushed her bare sex for the first time.

Again, she kept her eyes on my fingers, as they explored her soft, slick heat, sliding between her pussy lips, circling her entrance with a soft touch.

"Are you, uh... gonna tell me what to do?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah..." Bridget blinked, sitting up a bit. "Umm, that's good... take it slow... Warm me up..."

I swallowed, that last phrase making my hair stand slightly on end. What would it sound like to hear Bridget moan? What would she say to me when my tongue was inside her? I needed badly to find out.

I did as Bridget said, wetting my fingers, toying gently with her until her pussy was flushed, engorged with blood flow. Bridget's breath was thick and slow, like she was trying to fog up a window, and from her lessons, I recognized the signs of a truly aroused sex—lips and clit standing out, red and swollen, all visibly shiny with arousal, her pussy opening to me like a flower.