Those high school years were good ones. The boys still came flocking around, of course, more than ever now as my body approached its peak of development. Would-be swains eager for my attention, some just for the notoriety involved, the honor of being seen with the prettiest girl in town. I dated a lot, playing the field-no favorites for me!-small boys, big boys, smart scholars and stupid athletes. Polite lads who stayed within the bounds of propriety and less polite wise-guys whose only interest seemed to be the hope of getting into my pants. I enjoyed them all in one way or another, even the rascally types, the sneaky strategists who showed their true color only in darkness, coming alive in a parked car and suddenly sprouting more arms than an octopus. Not that they got anywhere with me, nothing beyond my own clearly drawn and well-defined limit for such adolescent explorations, some heavy necking and perhaps a little sly-fingered but comparatively controlled petting. I was a good girl without being goody-goody, enjoying my popularity but never at the expense of my virginity. It was easy for someone with my advantage, easy to say no and make it stick-even in the hottest session my body never betrayed me after all, didn't I already have a lover to take care of my needs?
Ah yes, my secret lover! Her body did some developing, too, but she still remained quite slender if not exactly boyish. I just wished she would go out on dates more often, for the sake of appearances at least. Aside from our own private little world, there was the larger one to contend with, the unimaginative normal world in which girls were meant for boys and boys were meant for girls and any other system of pairing-off was considered either ludicrous or vile-or just plain crazy! Despite my misgivings though, Alix dated only on special occasions-proms and such-and even then only because I became downright insistent. She was content to remain out of the mainstream, taking refuge in her friendship with me. That big normal world just wasn't for her.
I felt a bit guilty about it, her going overboard like that and losing touch with reality. And yet I couldn't take the blame for making a lesbian out of her. I had acted as a catalyst, admittedly, but hadn't she been a tomboy to begin with? Even without me, even if our intimate relationship had never blossomed, some other girl would have caught her eye in the same way. My best friend must have been born with those tendencies, I figured, hardly cause for self-reproach on my part. Nobody could be blamed for something that was so obviously a freak of nature.
Still, my conscience kept acting up, burdened by the constant vision of Alix getting so serious when it was only a fun thing for me. Especially since I could neither change her nor find it in my heart to end our serious fun. And eventually, just to ease my guilt, I took a leaf from her book and began paying less attention to boys myself. Then again, it might have been the timing that practically made such a decision for me. Because that was when I was chosen to play the lead in the annual spring pageant, and the scheduled nightly rehearsals didn't leave much opportunity for social life-at least not the kind of social life that consisted of movie dates and parked car smooching and such. At that point it became quite simple to start turning down all the young hopefuls, my would-be wooers. I had an excuse, ready-made and unimpeachable. Even on the nights when we didn't rehearse, I. still had my lines to memorize.
For that matter, at first I almost wished I could have turned down the role, painfully aware of its demands on me. But it would have caused a scandal, of course, the honor was too great. This wasn't just a high school show or anything like that, oh no, it was the pageant, produced annually by the town fathers and attended by everybody within a hundred-mile radius, farmers and factory workers alike-to say nothing of mealy-mouthed politicians. It had become a tradition over the years, an outdoor spectacle with a huge cast milling around in costume, clashing swords and matching chariots in ancient heroic style. All based on the Trojan War, naturally; what better subject for a town named Troy? And so I became the youngest girl ever to play the female lead, fair Helen-"the face that launched a thousand ships"-second in importance only to the big wooden horse itself.
Anyway, despite the demands on my time, things worked out rather nicely as far as our secret romance was concerned. Alix volunteered for the job of helping me learn my lines, and that gave us a chance to be together often. With only a minor part in the show, there was no need for her to stay to the end of every rehearsal; she did, though, just for my sake, knowing that her presence in the wings had a steadying influence on me. But her parents consented to the late-hour homecoming only if she didn't have to go through the dark streets alone, so I got into the habit of walking her home afterward. It was out of the way for me, but I didn't mind at all. I liked that section of town. Better yet, in the comparative calm of night it was easy to think of ourselves as unseen and certainly unspied-upon, sheltered by the darkness that seemed almost as safe as a locked bedroom door. A world of our own once again, surrounded by tall trees and trimmed hedges and lovely old houses, all blurred and shadowy in the low-key illumination of the comer streetlamps. We made use of it, turning each other on with giggly whispers and then pausing in some hidden nook for a hasty kiss or caress, getting homier with every passing minute. How we loved those late-night walks!
But with that kind of opportunity, even aside from the romantic setting, we simply couldn't settle for a few kisses and caresses on the way. The first such night set the pattern. All those hidden-nook stops had been fun, but the Moreau estate was dotted with a profusion of better hiding places. Alix led me to-one of them-darker and infinitely more secluded in a clump of trees out beyond the summerhouse. It was supposed to be for just a goodnight kiss, but somehow both of us had similar expectations of something more, something too precious to giggle about.
Nobody felt like giggling as she fell on her knees and ducked under the hem of my skirt, rocking it up with her slowly rising motion. There were vague little noises though, tiny fragments of sound, detached and incoherent. Her head was still moving upward, skirt and all, nuzzling into the quivery flesh of my thighs with moistly parted lips. The soft sounds stretched and strung together to become a continuous moan that hinted of some strange ecstasy and then resolved into recognizable meaning.
"Mmm… you smell so good… "
"Yeah? I'm glad you approve."
I spoke the truth, sure enough, aware of how much perspiration my overworked body must have shed during the rehearsal. It was even noticeable in the contrast of the cool night air on my exposed skin. And yet Alix seemed to be sniffing and enjoying it, reveling in her own apparent intoxication. I caught a whiff myself, the hot sex wafting from between my legs, the hot cunt smell, all hot and sweaty and strong, picking up extra power from the thoroughly impregnated crotch of my damp panties. Maybe the stench wasn't really that bad, but I just couldn't see how anyone could go into raptures over it. Still, who was I to judge? It was all a matter of taste, even a stinky twat. Whatever turns you on…
Alix was getting kind of frustrated now, though. I could tell. Turned on but frustrated, unhappy about those panties of mine. For which I couldn't exactly blame her. The fit was snug and the fabric stout, a garment more serviceable than sexy, fine for the hard labor of a rehearsal but incongruous in this present situation. Like blue jeans at a formal dance. She was gnawing at the crotch now, trying to get it bunched over to one side. I could hear her panting and snorting down there, having a tough time of it, afraid to go too far without specific permission. A good slave, I had to admit, and deserving of a reward. Simple enough. All she wanted was my bare cunt to suck. But somehow that seemed rather ordinary to me, out of keeping with these extraordinary circumstances. Hmm. Whatever turns you on?
No! Whatever turns me on!
I did it all in one swift maneuver, shoving the panties down and whirling around to stick my ass in her face. She gasped and burrowed right into the crack, struggling to hold my leaning body upright and at the same time please me with her tongue. I wriggled a little and got comfortable like that, my buttocks parting to engulf her nose and cheeks and mouth, the wedge of her upturned face, soft but already quite steady. While that servile tongue of hers plugged my asshole to perfection and strived in its own squirmy way to heighten the pleasure all around. Just the thing to help me unwind after a rough rehearsal; wasn't I lucky to have such a slave? I doubted if the real Helen of Troy ever had it so good.
It was nice to see the party going so well. Alix's parents had practically forced her into it, a big party for the youngsters in honor of her cousin from California. They were only remotely related, actually-second or third cousins, something like that-but the guy bore the Moreau name and that made his visit important to this branch of the family. In their strata of society, sharing the same coat of-arms was reason enough fu make a fuss, no matter how much space separated them on the genealogy chart.
As for myself, the only objection I had to Boyd Moreau was the length of his visit. Alix had to entertain him, of course. a chore that just about precluded our locked-door bedroom romps and woodland glade back-to-nature outings. Even a week of that kind of enforced celibacy was more than my petted and pampered libido could tolerate. I just hoped we'd have a chance to get together in some private little corner while this dumb party was still lively enough to cover out" absence.
The prospect for that looked pretty good. Somebody had dumped booze into the punch bowl-vodka, no doubt, tasteless but potent-an accepted if seldom mentioned custom among members of our dear old Troy High senior class. No one would be walking out while the stuff lasted. So it was up to me to create my own opportunity. I had to convince Alix that her hostess-type duties also included being sweet to her forlorn best friend.
I bided my time awhile and then managed to edge in during a slack moment, whispering into her ear. "Well, darling? Are you having fun at your own party?"
"Fun… " She shivered, reacting to the heat of my breathy whisper. "I-I guess so. It's a pretty good bunch, wouldn't you say? Boyd keeps wishing they would all go home, though. He wants to be alone with me."
"Does he? Me too."
"Huh? Oh. Silly… "
"Silly but lonesome. It's been so long. Let's sneak away for a few minutes, hmm? I'd say it's time you took a break."
"Sue, how can we? There's nowhere to sneak tu."
"The downstairs powder room is empty, I just checked. Doesn't your nose need powdering? Mine does. Come on, let's go. Just act casual and no one will even notice."
Without giving her a chance to protest, I got us both moving in the right direction. Once inside the little half-bath, I locked the door and chuckled, all but bursting with triumph. She was mine now, mine alone, at least for the next few minutes. I had stolen the hostess away from her own party; what fun!
"We shouldn't. This is-"
"Hush. Nobody saw us. And if they did, so what? We're just powdering our pretty noses and catching up on all the gossip. Like, for instance, this cousin of yours, how come he's so anxious to get you alone? Is he trying to lay you?"
"Of course not. No, nothing like that. He's nice really, a gentleman, you know? My folks think he's the greatest thing since color television. They keep pushing-"
"Okay, okay. Alix, how much longer is he going to stay?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe another week."
"A week? Shit! Oh well, I suppose you're stuck with him. But if that's so, every minute we're together is precious. If it's going to be a whole week, we ought to use what little time we have to say good-bye to each other."
"Oh, it's not such a long-"
"Shhh. I'm going to say good-bye to you. With a kiss. Like this… " I touched my mouth to her lips, exerting a slow pressure and a gentle thrust of my tongue into the opening. Her response was immediate, an explosion of breath that almost bowled me over with its intensity.
"There now… " Smiling, I stepped away. "Now it's your turn to say good-bye to me."
"You-you mean the same as-"
"Come on, darling, you know how."
"In here? We shouldn't even be-"
"You know how." My smile faded. "A goodbye kiss that will have to last us for a week. You know the kind that pleases me most, I'm sure. And it better be good."
Alix dropped her gaze. "But-but my dress. It will get all wrinkled and messy if I-"
"So you'll get it wrinkled. Mine too. Messy. And we'll be no different than the rest. Half the dresses out there are already stained with purple punch." I shrugged and then turned abruptly fierce. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get down there and suck my cunt!"
There was no reply. The dark eyes remained downcast. And then-like a sapling in the teeth of a gale-her slim figure bowed and sank. She looked up, her expression a mask of mingled anguish and adoration. A moment later I could no longer see her face. I sure felt it though, aided by her hands and mine as we collaborated on the problem of my panties. It began rubbing up and down then, nuzzling between the lips of my denuded cunt as if she had suddenly decided that the joy of a sexsmeared face far outweighed any possible embarrassment that might come afterward, out there among her guests. We both knew from experience that even a soap-and-water scrubbing sometimes failed to erase all the evidence. Especially the scent the often tenacious scent that could wreak all manner of mischief by setting a few nearby nostrils atwitch with its uniquely identifiable message. Good thing that raucous bunch out there was still dulling its collective senses with vodka-spiked punch.
They were raucous, sure enough. All those shrieks and howls and screeches, loud enough to compete with a barrage of amplified guitars. The mating call of the heterosexual adolescent. But we didn't pay much attention here inside the powder room. This was a private party, just me and my slave-girl. Hmm. There was something depraved about that, something deliciously unspeakable…
Graduation was over and it should have been a lovely summer, a lazy vacation before buckling down at college. Only it wasn't much fun without my best friend. Goaded by her parents, Alix had accepted an invitation to visit her cousin's family in California. Without her, a walk to our woodland glade was as frustrating as a whodunit with the last Chapter missing. I could hardly wait for her to come home. And when she finally did, I didn't waste much time getting over there to welcome her.
"Sue, I didn't expect you so soon. I'm not even unpacked yet. But I'm glad you're here, there's something I have to tell you. I was going to put it in a letter, but this way is better.'“
"Hey, you sound serious. What's up?"
"I'm serious, all right. Boyd and I are engaged. It hasn't been announced yet, so I'm not wearing his-"
"You-you're going to marry him?"
"Uh-huh. Some time next year."
"But what about college? We were all set to room together."
"You'll have to find another roommate. I'll be busy producing a brand-new line of Moreau babies."
"Old-time aristocracy, huh? Big deal."
"It's big to me."
"Okay. I won't tease you about it, darling. But never mind next year, let's just relax right now and-"
"No! Not now. Not ever, don't you understand? It was fun for a while, I'll admit, but that's over now. I love Boyd Moreau and we're going to be married."
"You're sure of that, huh? Sure you love him, I mean. You're sure the idea didn't come from your mother and father? If you get married, you'll have to go to bed with him, you know. And he's a man, he won't be nice and soft like me, he'll be-"
"Sue, you're raving. You think I don't know what a man is like? Guess again. I've been to bed with him. And it was great, you hear? My man fucked me, he fucked me good and proper, he shoved his big stiff cock into my soft little cunt and me feel happier than I've ever been in all my young life. Better than you ever did, that's for sure. There's just no comparison. You ought to try it yourself and see, then maybe it won't make any difference what kind of girl you room with at-college next year. Maybe you'll be interested in the same things I am."
"Yeah. Love and marriage. And babies."
"Don't knock it."
"Who's knocking? I'm happy for you, Alix. Don't you think I want the same thing for myself some day?"
"Do you? I wonder. But that's your business, not mine. And I'd rather you kept your business to yourself from now on. We've been good friends, Sue, but that's water under the bridge now. I don't think we should see each other again."
"You-you mean it?"
"Uh-huh. Let's just call it quits. Oh, don't worry, you won't have to cross any streets to avoid me, I'll be living in California anyway. And getting fucked every night, how about that? Like I said, you ought to try it yourself, Believe me, there's nothing like a good hot fuck to make a girl feel like a real woman."
That did it. I got out of there before she could start giving me advice again, all that fuckfuck-fuck talk. It left me pretty depressed, naturally, but I soon cheered up. The roommate problem was only minor; I'd get along by myself just fine, even at a big university like State. Mter all, wasn't I the only girl chosen to play Helen of Troy twice?