The First Timers Club Pt. 04

Chapter 19 - Eggplants and Peaches

As night fell, my thoughts turned to Clay's imminent return. The girls and I had watched a movie and feasted on pizza, but the time to leave had finally arrived. We quietly dressed and exited the pool house together around nine o'clock. Still time before Clay got home, but I felt the pressure and needed to retrieve my key's from Erin and get moving.

No one wanted to leave that pool house, and the somber looks on everyone's faces made it even more difficult. After exchanging phone numbers and pinky swearing to return the next day, Ashley and her friends trudged upstairs to her bedroom to shower and play video games. We all stank in that wonderful way one does after spending an entire day enjoying sex, and I looked forward to a hot shower and a long, dream-filled sleep.

Erin puttered around the kitchen, preparing something for Clay. A quick meal of crockpot chicken that would be hot and simmering when he got home. She still wore the same plaid skirt but had swapped out the wifebeater for a form-fitting t-shirt. She'd seen the girls pass by on their way upstairs and noticed my backpack.

"Leaving so soon?"

I wanted to reply with something spiteful, but I held back. The evening with the girls had elevated my spirit and I wouldn't let her spoil it by goading me into a fight, so I gave her a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah. It's getting pretty late, and Clay'll be home soon, so I'm going to get out of your hair. Ashley asked if I'd come back tomorrow, so, as long as you're fine with it, I was thinking maybe early afternoon?"

Erin ladled out a spoonful of broth and blew on it. "Here, try this. Tell me what's missing." It needed salt, I told her. She dropped a large pinch into the pot, then added another for good measure. "You'll sleep in the pool house tonight. I've put some fresh sheets and things aside for you to take with you. Over there by the door. If you leave me your clothes, I'll toss them in the laundry for you."

Why had I ever tried to be civil with her? I slammed my palm on the kitchen island. "Give me my fucking keys, Erin. Now!"

"I can't," she said as she rinsed the spoon in the sink. "I don't have them."

"What do you mean you don't have them? Where are they?"

"While you were busy fucking my daughter, I had a couple of the boys down at the dealership come pick it up this afternoon and take it in to get detailed."

"You did what?"

"Don't worry. It's my treat."

I threw up my hands and spun away from her. "Why do I even talk to you?" I pulled out my phone and swiped through my apps. "You know what? Fuck it. I don't care. I'm calling an Uber. I'll go pick it up myself tomorrow."

Erin didn't seem overly perturbed. She continued with her meal prep while I struggled with shitty cell service. When the app finally let me input my pickup location, I saw no cars available anywhere in the vicinity. I couldn't even click through to order. A dialog asked if I wanted Uber to consider service in my area.

"What the fuck," I said under my breath and opened Lyft instead.

"I don't think you're going to get a ride out here. We're too far out," she said over her shoulder as she stirred in some dried herbs. "Taxis usually take a couple hours too, if they come at all. It's a real pain in the ass. I should know."

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and kicked myself for waiting to the last minute to leave. Fucking idiot. How the hell was I going to get home now? Walk? No way. I thought about calling a friend, but who did I know who would drive an hour to pick me up at nine on a Sunday night?

Wait a minute. Brittney! Courtney had said that Brittney owned a car. When Erin saw me about to fly upstairs, she chuckled.

"Her car's blocked in the driveway, and I'm pretty sure I misplaced my keys..."

I stopped and turned. She eyed me from the stove, a self-satisfied smile plastered on her bloated face.

"Don't worry about Clay," she said. "I'll keep him busy tonight. Besides, he almost never goes in there anyway. Keep the noise down and you should be fine."

My backpack slipped from my shoulder, and I only just caught it before it hit the floor. She'd anticipated my every move. Erin turned back to her dinner prep. While she stirred the pot, she shifted her feet and scratched her butt.

"You really did a number on my asshole today, tiger."

Accepting defeat, I snatched the sheets from the table and retreated to the pool house. Once inside, I silently raged at how foolishly I'd acted. If I'd been smart and planned ahead sooner, I'd be home already. Instead, I'd let my dick do the thinking, and banishment to the woodshed was my reward. Climbing to the mezzanine with the bundle of linens, I flicked on the bedside lamp and made the bed. Then, after a hot shower, I plugged in my phone and laid down.

For a long time, I just stared at the ceiling, the cavernous room so quiet and lonely that I heard the electricity humming in the wall. Every so often, the icemaker in the fridge emptied and refilled itself for another cycle. I took a deep breath and sighed miserably.

My phone alerted, and I reached for it so quickly I knocked it off the table. When I picked it up, I saw a text from Brittney.

I miss you

Fuck. I set the phone back down. Brittney's sweet face staring down at me, tears dripping from her cheeks. She's just infatuated, I told myself. I hoped so, at least. After a while, my phone alerted again. Another text message from Brittney, no doubt. I thought to ignore it but changed my mind.

The new message wasn't from Brittney and it wasn't a text. I tapped the notification and an upside down image of Courtney's pussy appeared, taken from inside the shower by the looks of it. Three animated dots heralded another message.

Thinking of you while I touch myself lol!!!!

I threw my arms out to the side and groaned. Another chime.

Send dick pic

Followed soon after by a series of emojis including an eggplant, squirting water, and a drooling face. While I stared at the hieroglyphic message, my finger drifted to the screen and hovered over the text area. If I tapped it, she'd know. I set the phone down and curled up on my side.

You're such an idiot. Just text her back and tell her where you are. She'd certainly come. So, why didn't I? The answer was obvious. I didn't want to lead her on. Spending one night with her had been bad enough, but twice in a row?

Ugh! I hated being like that. It felt so patronizing. Did they really need me to protect their feelings? They were adults. They could manage their own damned emotions. It wasn't my job to do it for them. I'd been as explicit as I could possibly be with Courtney. If she chose to ignore me, that was on her, not me.

I stewed with my thoughts for a while, until another alert brought the phone to my face. Another text message, but this one addressed to the group. I opened it. A picture of the four girls, arms over shoulders, smiling into the camera. Sent from Ashley's phone. Another incoming message.

friends 4 ever!

I zoomed the image and stared at their faces, feeling the same loneliness I'd felt in the pool the night before. I wanted to be with them right then. Another message to the group, this one from Courtney.

Dick pic

Then a flurry of responses.

Yasss!

Yes, please

A whistling emoji.

Another eggplant.

Gib dick now pweez

What the hell, why not? I put my hand on my cock and worked myself up until the veins popped out, then gripped the base of the shaft and snapped a pic. It took ages to upload. When it did, my phone blew up with overlapping notifications. I set the phone down and flicked off the light.

A message notification woke me. The screen illuminated briefly then darkened and I closed my eyes to go back to sleep. A couple minutes later, another notification. I rolled over and looked at my phone. The clock read one thirty in the morning. I tapped on the notification icon. Two messages from Kayla.

U awake?

Nm, gn

I rubbed my eyes and read them again. Before I knew it, I had typed out a response.

What's up?

My finger hovered over the send button. She would have seen that I'd typed a response, so I sent it, and my heart thumped a little when I did. Her reply came within seconds. She'd returned my dick pic but heavily cropped and zoomed. She'd circled something in the background. The television.

U here?

My pulse quickened. I typed a single letter and hit reply.

Y

I stared at the phone for what felt like ages. Then the three dots appeared. They pulsed continuously for several minutes, starting and stopping numerous times. When the message finally appeared, my face flushed. Four emojis.

Eggplant. Peach. Squirt. Question mark.

My heart hammered in my chest, and my hand trembled as I typed out my one letter response.

Y

I set the phone down and sat anxiously on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands, praying she would come. After several minutes, I heard light rapping on the glass and quickly descended into the dim room to open the slider. Kayla slipped inside and I shut and locked it behind her while she waited. Then we went to the sectional together and sat down.

"What are you still doing here?" she whispered, even though she didn't need to. She wore a long, oversized t-shirt and had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, which she set on the floor. She regarded me with a quick glance to my groin. I hadn't bothered to get dressed.

"Long story," I said. It wasn't really, but she didn't need the details.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

I nodded and asked, "Does anyone else know?" She smiled impishly and shook her head. "Clever girl."

Her smile widened momentarily, then relaxed completely. "I wasn't sure you'd reply," she said, sounding nervous.

"I wasn't sure either," I confessed.

"You weren't interested earlier, so I just assumed..." she began, but when I didn't pick up the thread, she finished the thought. "I don't know. That I blew it with you or something."

"What do you mean?"

She looked fearful. "That maybe those things I said..."

"Kayla, hey..."

"...might have grossed you out or something." She trembled with anxiety.

"No, it wasn't that at all. I was just scared."

She knotted her thick eyebrows. "About what?"

"That I might hurt you," I said, and she looked confused. "I wasn't sure I could control myself. I wanted to fuck you so badly, Kayla, you don't even know, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to...restrain myself enough to not cause you pain."

Kayla's eyebrows lifted in understanding, her relief apparent. "Oh my god. I thought you were disgusted by me."

"Are you kidding? I'm kind of obsessed with you right now."

That brought her up short. "So, you really liked that stuff I said then?"

"Yeah. A lot," I said. "It was a huge turn on."

Her eyes widened. "Really? I thought I was the only one."

I shook my head and tried not to laugh. "It's a lot more common than you think," I said, but her brow knotted. Something bothered her. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she said. "I feel like there might be something wrong with me."

"What makes you say that?"

She gave me an evaluative look. One that told me she hadn't decided yet whether she trusted me enough to delve into such deeply personal topics. I thought to say something to allay her concerns but changed my mind and sat quietly to let her work it out on her own. Finally, her thick eyebrows parted.

"I'm not attracted to my dad in any way," she said at last. "It's nothing like that at all."

"I know," I said in an understanding tone, and those two words brought her instant visible relief.

"I don't know how to explain it. I just...I looked at you and thought about what it would be like to have sex with you, and it just came out. I don't know why, but saying those things did something to me."

"It felt right."

"No. More than that," she said.

Her pained expression spoke volumes. She desperately wanted to say more. I could see it in the way her brow shifted and the intensity of her gaze and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Anxiety gripped her and squeezed her like a vise. I decided to take a chance. I put my hand on her thigh and gently caressed her soft skin with my fingertips. When I did, her dam broke.

"I masturbate so much. Way more than I said. I know you told us we could be honest and that no one would judge us, but it's so hard for me to be that way with them and talk about it because we've been friends for so long, but we almost never talk about sex, even though it's all I ever think about sometimes. I've always felt so different from them, and I'm so afraid they're going to think there's something wrong with me. Like I'm a pervert or a slut or something, and I hate feeling this way because I want to talk about it with someone. I feel trapped all the time, like there's something inside of me that wants to get out but I never let it. I just hold it in and it makes me crazy, and I always feel on edge, like there's this knot, right here," she said, putting her hands on her diaphragm, "that never goes away, but when I masturbate, it doesn't feel so tight, but it's still always there. Until today. I've never had an orgasm like that before. I can still feel it. The memory of it, at least. But my knot went away for a while and I felt at peace for the first time in a really long time."

Her dark eyes scanned mine, anxiously searching for something. An acknowledgement or validation or anything that would let her know that she didn't need to feel trapped anymore. To tell her, no, there's nothing wrong with you. I thought about our discussion in the pool the night before, when I'd told her I always wanted sex, and I'd seen that look of understanding on her face. I nodded and blew a sharp breath from my nose, then put my hand on my own diaphragm.

"You're not the only one," I said and her eyes watered. I gave her leg a gentle squeeze and she put her hand on mine. "As far as the other thing goes," I said, shifting back to her original concern, "there's nothing wrong about calling your partner 'daddy.'"

"But I don't understand. I don't feel that way about my dad. So why does it turn me on so much?"

"I don't know. Could be a lot of reasons. I'm not a psychologist or anything. Are you guys close?"

She shook her head vehemently. "Not like that!"

"I know. I just meant, is he, like, a nurturing father? Do you guys hang out and do stuff together?"

She thought for a second and shook her head. "No, not really. He just kind of does his own thing."

"Maybe you're just looking for an authority figure to tell you what to do. Or maybe you're just attracted to older guys. Or maybe it's the power dynamic. Like I said, it could be a lot of things. Point is, there's nothing unusual or wrong about it. It's just a thing that makes you wet between the legs and takes your knot away."

"So, how do we do this?" she asked.

"Do what?" I asked. Then I got it. "Oh, you want to call me daddy?"

"Do you want me to?"

Not particularly. I'd slept with plenty of women, all of them young, who had a daddy fetish. As I got older, the frequency with which it came up increased dramatically, and when the first gray hairs appeared on my temple, it became almost comical how often some young twenty-something would scream 'fuck me daddy' as I plowed her pussy. That seemed to be the age group. College age. It had never came up with the few high schoolers I'd fucked. Kayla was the first. And by the time they reached their thirties, it had mostly passed, but those college girls really wanted to fuck a daddy. The fact that I called every woman I fucked 'baby' at some point probably didn't help.

"It wouldn't bother me if you did," I said.

"But do you like it? Does it turn you on?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "It certainly did today. Maybe because it was so unexpected, I don't know, but holy fuck it turned me on like crazy. I guess my point is, don't be afraid to try something. If I like it, I'll definitely let you know and reciprocate."

"What if you don't like something?" she asked, noting the cock slowly rising in my lap.

"If it doesn't bother me and you really like it, then I'm going to still want to do it because I want you to get off. Otherwise, I'd tell you."

She nodded. "Can I be honest with you about something?" she asked.

"That's the only way I want you to be."

"I really, really, really want to suck your dick right now."

What had been a slow rising erection sprang to full hardness in mere moments. My grip on Kayla's thigh tightened.

"Really. You want to suck daddy's big cock, do you?" I asked, letting her decide whether or not the word sounded as good to her in real life as it did in her fantasy. The smile that lifted her cheeks told me it did. Fine. I'd be happy to indulge her.

I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. My cock bobbed menacingly in front of her face. Kayla looked up at me, the sclera of her eyes forming tiny crescents. I caressed her cheek and smiled. Then I took hold of my cock and brought it closer to her face. Kayla opened her mouth reflexively to take me in, revealing her soft pink tongue gated behind teeth encased in green and silver braces. I didn't put it inside, though. Instead, I rolled the large head lightly over her lips.

"You really like sucking cock, don't you?" I asked, which was an odd question to ask given that she'd sucked a cock only once in her life, but old habits die hard. Kayla didn't seem to mind, though. She stared up at me and nodded. "Tell me how much you like it."

"I love it," she said.

A thrill coursed through my body, and I had to take a deep breath to calm myself. "Let's get you out of those clothes, okay? I want to see those adorable little tits of yours."

Kayla pulled her shirt off and tossed it across the room. She was sans bra but wore a pair of cotton panties.

"Take your panties off too. Let me see your hairy little pussy."

My cock pulsated as Kayla stood to peel off her panties, uncovering her thick, dark bush of unkempt pubic hair. I reached down to run my fingers over her pussy and her eyes closed. She was drenched.

"Oh my god, look at you. You're little pussy is so wet. Tell me why your pussy's so wet."

Kayla opened her eyes and stared at me. Her entire body quivered with excitement and anticipation and lust. "My little pussy's wet for you, daddy," she whispered and my pulse accelerated.

Holy fuck. Maybe I liked it more than I thought.

My fingertips slowly rolled over her sensitive clit, but not forcefully. Just soft brushes. Bare whispers of contact. Kayla's eyelids contracted around her dark eyes, giving them a wild, savage look. She struggled to restrain herself, the same as me, and I wondered which of us would break first.

"Oh, daddy..." she breathed, and I nearly whimpered. Precum drooled from the tip of my cock, its movements growing twitchy as I savored the moment.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing to decide what to do first. I wanted her in every way it was possible to want someone. I wanted to hear her moan against me. I wanted to pleasure her and fulfil her every fantasy. It took all my will to restrain myself from taking her where she stood. I needed to remain in control; of both myself and of her. I wanted it to be special for both of us, and I wanted to draw it out for as long as I possibly could.

I collected myself and studied Kayla's face. So young and eager and wanting. But I knew something else lurked there as well. A prurient mind that wandered fearlessly through the dark halls and seedy back alleys of her sexual imagination. What treasures might she have discovered in there? I desperately wanted to find out.