Julie's homecoming was filled with excitement. She had been gone over nine months, and the first question her mother asked was why had she not come home over the holidays. Julie gave her the story she had decided on about spending the time in the high Sierras with friends, and her mother accepted it without question.
That was one thing she liked about her mother; she always accepted any explanation given without question. Usually, there was never any reason to lie, because Barbara Kramer allowed her children to live their own lives. She considered herself to be a modern woman, a modern mother. Julie could just as well have told her mother the truth, that she was shacking up with two men at the time and enjoyed that more than being at home over the holidays. Barbara would only have smiled and said fine.
Barbara, although in her late thirties, was an exquisitely lovely woman. There were times when she and Julie had been taken for sisters, and it pleased her greatly. She still had the same shape, the same build, as she had at Julie's age. There was no hint of sag or droop to her body; her face was unlined unlike many women her age. There were no crow's feet at the outer edges of her dark eyes. In fact, the only lines on her face at all were those about her mouth, and they were what were called "laugh lines." Barbara was a happy woman, rich in her life even though she had been widowed five years before. Like most women, she had felt a sense of loss at first. But within months she came out of it and began dating again.
Julie knew her mother had men friends, men that she enjoyed sex with. Barbara also knew of her daughter's awareness. Conversation had always been quite frank around the Kramer house, and any question Julie or her brother, Kenney, who was thirteen, had, could be brought to Barbara without embarrassment.
Kenney was a handsome young fellow, but his personality was that of a mischievous young boy. He worked hard at getting out of work, such as school studies. At the end of the year, he would have to attend summer school to make up his grades. Unlike Julie's college, that had finished up the semester the later part of May, Kenney still had two weeks of school left before the summer session began.
Barbara loved her children very much, although the relationship between the three was more like very close friends than mother and children. They, in turn, loved her. Barbara always bragged about her son and daughter, carried pictures of them in her purse, had a large color picture of them on her desk at the bank where she worked as a loan processor. She didn't earn a great deal of money, and if not for the substantial insurance her husband had left, they would have been hard put to make ends meet. Julie would not have been able to attend college, and neither would Kenney when his time came. However, there was enough for that, with extra left over to allow them some minor comforts. The home had been paid off at the time of death, which was a big help.
After hugs and kisses and questions and answers, routine set in at the Kramer home. Several days passed, and Julie was left alone during the days. She roamed about the house, feeling depressed and wished she had registered for summer session at college. At least she would have been with others, wouldn't have had this sense of loneliness during the hours her mother was at work and her brother in school.
After three days of pacing about the house, Julie longed for companionship. Not one to go without sex very long, she considered driving somewhere, trying to meet a man. She never had difficulty before.
Slipping into a pair of lacy panties, ignoring a bra as usual, she pulled on a pair of red knee socks, a red miniskirt and a thin, pink summer sweater. She stepped into a pair of black shoes and surveyed herself in the mirror. It reflected a beautiful young girl with creamy thighs beneath the short hem of the skirt, breasts straining at the sweater.
Skipping from the house, she left by the rear door. Her low sports car was sitting there in the warm sun, shining in the driveway before the closed doors of the garage. As she opened the door to get in, she heard a boy's voice call out to her.
"Julie! Hi, Julie!"
She turned and saw Mark Burney, the boy who lived next door and her brother's best friend. He was a kid, the same age as her brother, but a bit taller, with black hair and a thin face.
"Hello, Mark. I haven't seen you in quite some time." She flashed him a bright smile. She noticed that he was standing awkwardly, and remembered all the times he felt ill at ease around her. "Why aren't you in school?"
"Aw, I hurt my toe the other day and Mom wants me to stay home for a while." He grinned shyly, his eyes covertly admiring her exquisite loveliness. "Boy," he said, appearing awed by her. "You sure do look nifty!"
"Why, thank you, Mark," she replied, pleased with his admiration. "Gee… " she said, placing a finger to her chin and cocking her head, regarding the boy intently. "You must have grown a full foot since last summer."
"Yeah," he mumbled, kicking at the grass with the toe of his sneaker. "I'm five eight now. Last time I saw you, you were taller than me by a long way. I'm growing like crazy. If I don't stop soon, I'll be a freak-"
"Or a basketball star," she interrupted him.
"Probably both," he laughed nervously. "Yeah, I've grown all right."
"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you."
"Maybe not, but you aren't me. You don't have any worries about being skinny the way I am," he grinned shyly. His eyes moved covertly over her protruding breasts, down to her flat stomach and narrow waist, gently flaring hips, then seemed to linger hotly at her golden, sugary thighs.
"Are you trying to say you like my… shape, Mark?" Julie teased, warming to the game. She flashed him an impish smile.
"Yeah!" he said, blushing a bit. "I guess that's what I'm saying."
"Why, that's a sweet thing to say, Mark," she laughed, pleased, enjoying, as always, the way his eyes gazed openly, but bashfully, at her thighs, her breasts.
She was standing with the door of the car open, one foot lifted to the inside, the other on the paved drive.
"You going someplace?"
"No place, really," she replied, the flutter of an idea growing inside her head. "Just thought I'd drive around a bit. It's such a beautiful day and I've got to get out of that damned house for awhile. No, I'm not going anyplace special."
The boy's eyes brightened, and it seemed as if he had understood the half-formed idea behind her clear eyes. "Mind if I come along, Julie?" he asked, expected to be refused. His eyes held the pleading of a child.
"Why, no. Of course not," she smiled warmly at him. "Come on, climb in."
She settled behind the wheel as he got into the passenger seat. She noticed the way he glanced at her shyly, then a slight blush grew on his smooth cheeks as he looked at her exposed thighs. Her miniskirt was hiked high on the creamy flesh, with only an inch of the hem keeping him from seeing her lacy panties.
But, Julie very well knew, miniskirts had been designed for this purpose. It was the reason she favored them over the newer styles that hung to the knee. The skirt is very short to begin with, and when a girl sits down, it has a tendency to ride higher yet. Yes, she felt, the only purpose of a miniskirt was to enable a girl to expose her thighs, to let men and boys get cheap thrills by looking. But Julie didn't pass out cheap thrills. She passed out the real thing. She received a great deal of pleasure when a boy or man looked longingly at her. Most girls, she knew, were exhibitionistic anyway.
Smiling inwardly because she understood Mark's pleasure, she backed the small car from the drive, turned onto the street, then gunned the engine, racing away with squealing protest of the tires. Julie and the young boy chatted, talking about things of no importance as they left the outskirts of the town.
"This is a neat car, Julie," Mark said, seeing her copper hair fly in the wind, thinking she was the most beautiful girl ever.
"Yes, it is, isn't it. It's a lot of fun to drive." Then she smiled at him quickly. "Would you like to try it out, Mark?"
"Aw, I'm not old enough to drive. I'm not old enough for anything, really," he said in a dispirited voice, caressing the dash before him.
"Not old enough for anything?" she teased the boy, licking her lips and flashing a knowing, lewd wink at him. With the word "anything" she had let her voice drop very softly, meaningfully.
"Well… " he said hesitatingly, understanding her meaning clearly. "I'm old enough for that, I guess."
"But you're not sure?" she teased, giving him a wicked smile now, her white teeth gleaming in the sun.
"Sure I'm sure," he laughed nervously, awkwardly. He was looking down at her creamy thighs again.
"How are you so sure that you're sure, Mark?" she asked him, her voice quite low and throaty.
"Oh, hell, Julie," he said, and the blush became deeper. "I'm not a… not a virgin!" he blurted suddenly.
"You aren't?" she laughed. "Now whatever made you think I was talking about that, of all things?"
"Well, you were, and you were!" he said, almost belligerent with shyness.
"Mmmm, I guess if you aren't a virgin, Mark, at least you are old enough for the most important things in life." She gave him a knowing wink.
"Yeah," he said, the grin reappearing as some of the pink coloring left his cheeks. Then, impulsively, he asked: "Are you a virgin, Julie?"
"What kind of a question is that to ask a girl?" she said, but laughed softly so he would know she wasn't insulted.
"Same kind that you asked me," he replied, becoming bold now.
"Well, I guess you're right. I'll be honest with you, Mark. No, I am definitely not a virgin. In fact, I haven't been a virgin for a long time." Then she decided to keep the teasing act going a. while longer. "Are you thinking about making something out of it?"
"If by making something out of it means… well, make you-you know what I mean-sure, I'd like to!" he said, his eyes back on her thighs again. He had suddenly changed, no longer so shy.
"Hey, young fella," she laughed suggestively at him, "you talk pretty damn big for a boy who's too young for anything."
"I said I wasn't too young for that," his voice lifted a bit. "Just because you're five years older than I am, you don't have to make fun-"
"I'm sorry, Mark," she said. "I was only teasing, not making fun of you. I couldn't resist that. So… you would like to ‘make me', would you?"
His eyes popped wide. "I sure would!" he said. He became quite bold now, his words coming fast. "Why lie about it. I've wanted to lay you for a long time, but you being older and all, and me just a little kid… oh, damn, Julie-you sure are stacked!"
She flashed him a pleased smile. She enjoyed the sexual tease, and she did like this young boy, really. "And you can't wait for the chance to get your hot little hands on those stacked places, can you?"
"Gosh, Julie… I'm nuts about you! I go crazy just looking at you. I see you with older guys, and I get all shivery inside and real nutty just thinking about them kissing you and touching… And I'm too young to even get the chance for any of that!"
"Age shouldn't have anything to do with it, nothing at all. Tell me, what would you say if I told you," she smiled, wondering how this thirteen year-old boy would take it, "that I've made it with a man who was twice my age?"
"You… you made it with a man?" he asked, his expression like a boy who had been stunned by unexpected information.
"That's right, sweets. He was very good at it too."
"You made it with a man, and I'm… you're only five years older than I am!"
"That's right, honey," she said. "Does it bother you because of that?"
"Well, you always seemed to be older than that. You're a woman, really, not a kid like me. I just never thought I'd have the chance with you, that's all."
He was such a sweet boy, Julie felt compassion for him. What would it cost her to let him play around with her for a while? Give the poor kid his dreams, let them come true for him. It wouldn't cost her anything. He had confessed his desire for her. Besides, it would be hours before her mother or brother returned home. She didn't want to be alone, and he was someone to talk to, company, and it might be a big blast, fooling with a boy his age. In a way, she thought, it would be a kind of payment for his devotion, for his wanting her all this time. Julie had been accustomed to boys who knew their way around a girl's body, and Mark Burney was obviously inexperienced, and such a tender age.
"Mark, you know that old song about dreaming the impossible dream?" she asked, her voice low and literally dripping with sex.
"Yes… "
"Well, it seems as if I'm the impossible dream for you. Isn't that right?"
"Yeah," he mumbled. "And I have been dreaming an impossible dream about you, Julie. But dreaming doesn't do much good. Look at you, you're almost nineteen years old now, and you're in college. Me, I'm just a kid not even in high school yet. You're so damned beautiful, and I'm just a skinny kid who is growing too fast and without any looks to speak of and-"
"Hey now… don't be running yourself down that way, Mark. Don't you have any confidence in yourself?"
"Well, sure… but not where you're concerned, Julie."
"You know something-I like you, Mark. I really do." She had finally reached her decision. She had been slowly letting the idea percolate in her mind and she had also been circling back toward her home, and she knew it would be only a few more minutes. "Mark, I want you to tell me something, and I want you to be honest. I don't want any bullshit. When you dream about me, do you play with yourself. I mean, do you jack off and think about me?"
"What… well, hell… " he blushed furiously.
She laughed softly. "That's what I thought. Listen, do you try to imagine what I would look like without my clothes on… try to see my breasts, what I look like between my legs?"
He became lividly crimson.
Again Julie laughed, huskily now. "Honey, have you noticed where I've been driving?"
"No," he replied, glancing around. He had been too busy looking at her the whole time, drinking in her untouchable-for him-beauty. He had been looking at her delectable breasts and creamy thighs, still dreaming. He had been watching the flash of her long legs as she clutched and braked and shifted gears. He had been watching the gentle sway and slight jiggle of her breasts, trying to make up his mind whether or not she was wearing a bra.
"If you'll stop trying to peek up my skirt," she smiled warmly at him, "you'll notice that I've been circling back to my home."
"You have? I thought you were going for a drive."
"Would you rather go for a drive with me, or be alone with me in the house, honey?" she asked in a sensual voice. "I mean, there isn't anyone there. It would only be you and I. Only the two of us… alone… by ourselves… no one to bother us."
He looked at her, his mouth hanging open with disbelief. What she had just said meant the whole world to him, but was she only teasing, as girls had a bad habit of doing with him.
"Aw, come on, Julie. You're putting me on."
"I only asked if you'd rather drive around or be alone with me in my house, that's all, Mark."
"I'd… oh, shit! I'd rather be alone with you… any day!"
"Tell me, if you and I were alone in my house, and no one else was around to see us, would you make a pass at me?"
"Oh, boy! Wow! I'd sure like to do that!"
She gave a soft chuckle. "That wasn't the question, Mark. I didn't ask you if you would like to make a pass at me. I asked if you would. There's a big difference, you know."
"Well, damn… whit!" he stammered, eyes wide. "If you let me-"
"I didn't ask that, either."
"Oh, shit! Yes, damn it… I'd make a pass at you!" he almost shouted at her.
"There, that's much better. My goodness, Mark, you're not very aggressive… not at all confident in yourself, are you?"
"Not when it comes to you, Julie," he said again. Still, he wasn't at all certain about her. He was afraid she was still teasing him.
"Now, we'll be there in a minute or two," she gave him a sweet smile, turning the car into the tree lined street. "You're going to come into my house with me, and you and I are going to be all alone. I'd like to kiss you and sort of fool around, Mark. I mean, fool around with you. Would you like that?"
"Oh, wow! You bet your ass I would!" he exclaimed, his voice choked with bubbling emotion.
Julie parked in the driveway and the boy followed her undulating ass nervously up the steps and into the house. The stillness of the huge place gripped him. The fact that he was alone with her, with this shapely, exquisitely desirable girl he had longed for from a distance, nearly overwhelmed him. For the past year, Mark had been mentally imagining Julie, seeing her in his mind's eye. He would see her naked, her legs and breasts and ass, and especially her pussy. And, as he had been dreaming of her, he had been manipulating his cock constantly, jerking off in the secrecy of the bathroom, at least twice a day. He had swiped a picture of her, a picture taken when she was seventeen, wearing shorts and a halter, and he used this as a stimulant.
Now, with her in the house, he was nervous. He just didn't know how to act with her. This was something he had never thought would happen to him.
His eyes leaped over her luscious body, as if they were tactile extensions of himself, and to Julie, it felt as if they were caressing her, fondling her surging breasts, her sensitive nipples, her spongy firm round ass. She saw that his eyes were burning with unabashed desire for her, gazing at her thrusting breasts, and she noticed his heavy breathing-it was harsh in the otherwise still room.
Julie's nipples extended and punched out at the soft material of her sweater. She could not, could never seem to control the hunger of her body, that raging sexual need that threatened to consume her, to destroy her. And she didn't want to control it, either. Her slender, ever so beautiful body always responded with violent longing whenever a man-or, in this case, a boy-looked feverishly upon her.
She felt no shame nor guilt about her body's reactions to the greedy, hungry gaze of a man or boy. She loved it, wanted it, relished it thoroughly, enjoyed the quick responses her cunt gave forth when someone wanted her body. It never failed to give her a tingling, rippling, hot thrill to be wanted sexually.
She looked at him. A warm tension of sexuality stirred the air between them. She could feel the heat creep through her veins into the dark pit of her quivering stomach, and her pussy swelled inside the lacy panties. The feel of her moisture there was good, wet and ready… always ready.
She smiled at him, invitingly, and ran her pink tongue over the slightly puffy lips, lips that glistened moistly. She arched her back deliberately, making her already firm, jutting breasts stab out even more against the thin sweater. His eyes burned at the twin points, and he licked his own lips in a nervous gesture.
"Well, honey… " she said throatily. "Here we are. All alone. No one but just you and I. I thought you wanted to make a pass at me. I thought you wanted me."
He took a stumbling step toward her.
Suddenly, Julie held her hand up, stopping him.
"Wait, darling," she said. "There's something I want to know first."