FicWad

Shared Heat
Part I

(Although inspired by true events this story is completely fictional. That means it's my story. No stealing.)

I could feel the change as soon as I entered the room. A fluttering of hearts. Four heads turning. Four girls who had been talking all at once, stopped. I was in trouble.
It's not that I was bad at talking to girls, hell no. I find that teenage girls, like all people, are like movies. Every now and then a unique gem will come along, but if you watch enough romantic comedies, detective stories, Michael Bay farces, etc, most movies are pretty predictable. Funny thing is, everyone THINKS they're special. Especially people who aren't. But put them in a group, and you could run a clock by mob mentality.

I wasn't in trouble from being nervous, oh no. A part of me (a part I was starting to fear) chuckled and licked it's chops. Britney, Heather, Gen (pronounced Jen), and Cassie from my second period Trig class all said, "Hi, Jack" at more or less the same time. Heather jumped up and hugged me and the others scowled at her behind her back. I shot them a smile while I tried not to smell Heather's perfume or feel the curvy freshness that only a sixteen year old girl can have. Her breasts had that swollen teenage newness and I was sure she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
Stay in control, a boner starts in your mind. Just sit on the couch. Spread yourself out.

As I sat down Heather offered me a glass of vodka and OJ, Gen inched a little closer, and Britney eyed me steadily from the far side of the couch. I stared back until her cheeks and chest blushed and she looked away with a smile. The game, at least for me, was to not let any one girl feel too special, or left without a chance.
Heather came in with some french fries and ketchup in a serving tray (it was her house, or rather, the basement of her parents' house).
"I made these," she said, "Try 'em."
"You didn't make those, they were frozen," Gen said.
Here we go
"Don't be so mean!"
"I was just saying..."
"I know what you were saying!"

Two hours later the drinks really started to catch up to me and I crawled out of the couch to find the bathroom. The little-girl-argument had pitched into full swing.
"Yo, where's the bathroom?"
"I'll show you," Britney said, and got up after me. It was the first thing she'd said in a long time. The other girls hardly noticed.
I pissed for a long time, but spent longer washing my hands while I stared into the mirror.

Britney was waiting for me when I opened the door. She and I shared fourth-period Creative Writing. Her hair was a reddish-brown dye job with subtle blond streaks in it that probably cost her a hundred bucks at a salon for rich kids. She wore very little makeup; she sure didn't need it. For a brief moment I was speechless to her burning blue eyes. Then I remembered she had something for me.
"So..." I said in a low voice.
"So..." she said, leaning forward a little. "Oh yeah, I got it." Britney slowly slid a hand under her black tack top, and under a strained purple bra, producing a half ounce of dense bud wrapped in a plastic bag.
I took it from her I kept my eye on her and brought the bag to my nose. I breathed a long breath. If one day someone combines the scent of pot and of a teenage girl, they'll have made their fortune.
She lifted up on her toes and put her shiny, pink lips to mine. I won't even try to describe how she tasted as her lips parted; it would be a disservice. Her hand kneaded the hair on my neck and I wondered what kind of hell would be punishment enough for enjoying myself more than any person should.
I could lose myself in her tight...
I had already counted out $150 in fifties before I arrived. As I guided her closer with my hand on the small of her back I guided the wad of bills into her tight, black waistband.
No underwear, and no pubic hair either. So warm almost hot.
I could feel my junk growing and straining my jeans, and pulled away from her just as I felt the wet petal of her tongue.
"Wow," she said. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing hard. I was, too.
"Whew," I whispered to her, "We'd better get back."
"That's okay," Britney sighed, "I just wondered how good you were." She winked, "C'mon, lets get high."

Half an hour later Britney, Heather, Gen, Cassie and I were spread out on Heather's trampoline in the back yard, feeling no pain under the warmth of the sun and the hash. It was only six o'clock. The party would start in one hour.
Cassie had approached me earlier that day during lunch period and asked me to come to the party at Heather's house. I thought she was joking when she said everyone would be there. By eight thirty the house, yard, hot-tub, and surrounding woods held over a hundred people, mostly Juniors and Seniors from Athens High, where I went. It wasn't everybody, just everybody that mattered, and a few that didn't. And me.

By midnight, most of us were drunk, some were getting laid, some not, and just about everyone was getting high. So was I, but I felt good. It never hurts to be a little sober at a party. I'd rationed out my drinks and was very thankful not to be puking or passed out. If I'd been drunk I wouldn't have been enjoying the gentle kneading of Gen's finger through my hair, or the swell of Cassie's round ass pressed against my boner. Had I been really drunk I might not have noticed the familiar red and blue flashing lights pulling up in the front of the house.
What the fuck

Kids scattered like ants, leaving behind a wake of red, plastic cups. The girls all scattered, except for Britney. She was passed out on the lawn. Without thinking I hoisted her dead weight over one shoulder and bolted for the woods. It was amazing how light she felt, even as she started to wake up and curse at no one in general. Behind me I could see the flashlights of the police, so I kept going deeper and deeper. Britney noticed the cops and said, "Ho-ly shit." I let her down, but held her around the waist and held her arm over my shoulders, pulling her along. The police lights winked out and we were left panting, crouched behind a large rock in the wet leaves and the dark.

As our eyes adjusted I took off my jacket and wrapped it around Britney's shoulders. She was still breathing hard, but she seemed solid and awake. I was probably worse off; the effort of carrying her was just starting to hit me.
I started to say, "Do you wanna go back?", but her lips were pressed hard to mine before I could get past 'go'. Her breath was hard and hot, her mouth was opened wide as she drew my tongue inside. I abandoned every sensible thought I had as she kissed me, and as I started to kiss her back I felt my hands grab her hair and pull her head back. I kissed, breathed and sucked at her neck and she moaned and pressed her whole body against me.

It was a shared heat that held us together, our lovemaking was frantic, almost violent as we went down into the leaves. She was still wearing my black cotton Von Dutch jacket over her shoulders, the one I'd bought just for the party. It spread out beneath her. I grabbed the bottom of her top and slid it up to just below her bra. She writhed and cooed under me as my lips and tongue worked on her belly and hips. As I tasted her sweat I felt her hands take mine, guiding one to her mouth and the other under her bra. As my palm grazed the bud of her breast it rose to meet me.

Normally I would have teased her, wait to grab the waist of her black stretch pants, wait to press my mouth to that bare, swollen cunt, but this was not normal. My hands kneaded and pinched her nipples as my mouth latched onto her sex, licking and sucking hard. She was wet, very; and soon was half my face. I didn't let up on her even when I felt that familiar shuddering, when her moaning verged on that beautiful death. Her arms flailed out and grabbed at leaves, her face, her heaving breasts. Then she was coming, and a sweet fountain surged into my throat. Her thighs clamped tight on my head, then released. I slowed my licks and she kept coming, again, again, and a third time.
When I finally pulled her naked hips to mine, pressed my tortured dick into her, felt her tight slickness open to me like a flower, I could hardly stand to hold back, and we only managed one more orgasm. When I felt her coming I let go deep inside her, thrusting away every care in a burst of bright agony.
The next thing I remember was her wet and naked body, glowing blue under the fall moon. She was walking away. Crookedly walking, but still beautiful, pulling on her clothes as she went.

The police had made little difference to the partygoers, most had crept back when the lights faded. Britney and I were some of the last to get back. I rejoined the party a minute after she did, so people wouldn't see us coming back together. I asked her for a cigarette. She gave me one, and we smoked together, slumped in a lawn chair.

I woke up, still in the chair, wearing my jacket. It was cold and the pale morning was peaking through the stars. I checked my cell phone. 5:14. Shit. Back to work.
Aside from various other kids passed out on the lawn, porch, in chairs, and on the trampoline, I was alone. The front yard was completely deserted. I ran over to my car, a blue '76 Maverick I bought and tuned myself. Under the seat I found a pencil and an old biology assignment I didn't need. By the time I drove off it was five-thirty, and I'd copied the license plate number of every car parked on the street.

Queenie's Eats was thirty minutes from where I'd started, two towns over. As I stumbled into the diner I realized exactly how shitty I probably looked. Hell, I could still taste Britney's cum. Six beers hadn't washed her away. Any other time I'd have savored it. Detective Sam Rattaree was sitting at his usual spot waiting for me. As I sat down he looked me over with a smug grin that made me want to choke him.

"Goddamn! You look like six sacks of shit, Jack, undercover too much for ya?

To be continued...