Bad Girls (20 page)

‘You first.'

‘Well I certainly haven't used any of them!'

‘No, I mean, when you're home alone, what do you do?'

‘Well, my dad has these porn magazines in a box in the attic.'

‘But what do you do?'

‘I look at them.'

‘And?'

‘I jack off.'

‘Me too.'

‘Do you use those things?'

‘Yeah.'
She blushed and rolled over into the pillow to hide her face.

‘Do you want me to do it to you?'

‘Yeah.'

The next hour was the greatest of my life to that point. To be honest, I didn't know exactly what the ‘it' was she wanted me to do to her. Back then teenagers didn't have sex that casually, so I figured I would just try to use the sex toys on her. If she wanted more she could ask. She was still lying face down. It was easier not to have to look into each other's faces, but it made it harder to get her pants off. At last she more or less did it herself, pulling her jeans and panties off in one swift movement.

‘There you go,' she giggled.

Indeed. The sight before me was certainly the most remarkable my young eyes had ever seen, and it remains permanently burned into my memory. It has been fodder for nearly every subsequent fantasy and the reference point for ass-perfection against which all other asses are judged. At the time I was nervous touching it, as if she might get mad at me or have second thoughts. But finally I got up my courage and began to stroke the soft, cool flesh. My hand followed its contours, attempting to appreciate every inch of this promised land.

She used her feet to kick her jeans and panties all the way off so she could spread her legs. ‘Use one of those,' she said softly.

I rummaged through the drawer of plastic penises and found one that looked pretty self-explanatory and not too anatomically correct. It was a classic vibrator, a lipstick-shaped missile with a switch on the bottom. I was still so ignorant of the female anatomy and sexual response that I thought I should put it inside her. I figured it must be shaped like that for a reason. I set the end against the place where I could see the dark flesh of her labia and pressed gently, not sure how hard to push or what the angle of penetration should be. I didn't ask because I didn't want her to know how inexperienced I was.

I'm sure I wasn't doing it right, and I'm sure it must have been uncomfortable, but she was so wet that it slipped in anyway. I turned it on and she began to moan. I didn't know exactly what to do then. I waited a few minutes and finally she said, ‘Put it on my clit.'

I knew enough about the clit in theory. Now I had to put theory into practice. When I pulled the vibrator out of her it glistened in a way that nearly made me come right then and there. She was still on her stomach, and she lifted her hips a little so I could put the vibrator about where I thought her clit should be. She reached back awkwardly to try to help me, but after a minute of unsatisfying wiggling she turned over, took the vibrator from me and spread her legs. ‘Right here,' she said.

‘Sorry,' I apologized, feeling a bit of a failure.

‘It's okay, I do this every day,' she said with a smile.

I watched her rub it gently across her clit, but when she noticed I was watching her she stopped. ‘You do it, too.'

‘Me?'

‘Yeah, I'm showing you how I do it. You show me how you do it.'

I tried to think of anything to say, but there was no way I could get out of it. Besides, I was so horny I was just about to die.

I unbuckled my belt, unfastened my pants and pulled them down just like she had. Seated on the edge of her bed with my pants and underwear around my ankles made me feel a little too much like I was sitting on the toilet, but I just grabbed myself and started jacking off. The buzz of the vibrator began again and we awkwardly masturbated together.

‘You do it to me and I'll do it to you,' she proposed.

This was a major improvement. I didn't have to suffer the indignity of looking like a monkey with an itch and I could feel her pussy while my cock finally enjoyed the touch of someone other than me. I held the vibrator in place for a while, moving it around a little like she'd been doing, but soon I grew bored of that and began to explore with my fingers. I eased one inside Rebecca, and then a second. Her cunt was delightfully wet and warm and soft.

‘Do you want me to lick you?' I asked, wanting to taste my first vagina.

‘Sure.'

I began to lick and lick, sometimes lapping hungrily and sometimes stiffening my tongue so I could push into her soft flesh. I managed to put my fingers inside her too, and she began to moan. I'm pretty sure she faked her orgasm, but regardless, there was much moaning and sighing and flexing and finally a collapse into blissful exhaustion. After a few minutes on her back she looked up at me and smiled.

‘That was really great. Do you want me to do it to you?'

‘Yes please,' I croaked, then lay back on the bed and she bent over me, taking my cock in her mouth and running her lips up and down it. She was still naked from the waist down and I stroked her ass while she sucked me. There was no faking my orgasm. I hadn't jacked off that morning and it came quickly, surprising her so much that she pulled back, gasping and giggling at the same time.

‘That was fun,' she said, delighted at her accomplishment, even as she wiped my come off her chin with a corner of the sheet. ‘My sister is going to wake up pretty soon, so we should probably get dressed.' Before she turned away she gave me the warmest smile, an affirmation of our private treasure.

And this smile, more than anything, was what made it hurt so much when, the next days and weeks at school, Rebecca spurned me completely. She barely returned a simple ‘hello', let alone talking to me or doing anything to temper Ashley's contempt for me. I knew Rebecca liked me, but I found out the hard way that she was too weak to stand up to Ashley. It was sad, really. I should have felt sorry for her, but I hurt too badly to feel sorry for anyone but myself. It felt like a giant smack in the face, worse than if she had just smacked me when I tried to kiss her. The sting lasted longer than any smack could and the humiliation I felt when she refused to talk to me in school was more devastating. Sex never really came out from behind the dark cloud of this betrayal.

The cruel irony of it was that Rebecca suffered the wrath of Ashley not a month afterwards. Rebecca's punishment for leaking word of Ashley's make-out session with a pothead not on the high school's social A-list wouldn't soon be forgotten by anyone who was there. It happened in the fraught twenty minutes between gym class and lunch. This unsupervised interval in each gender's changing room always threatened to become a little too much like
Lord of the Flies
. The lower you were on the social totem pole, the more you were in a hurry to get out of there as quickly as possible. This explained why Rebecca left the changing room on that fateful day without adequately checking herself in the mirror. One more moment in front of one and she wouldn't have entered the cafeteria with a very visible, very red spot of blood in the crotch of her white jeans.

When, after everyone had had ample opportunity to gaze at this menstrual badge of shame, someone finally told Rebecca about it, she ran from the cafeteria, and we later heard was dismissed to go home and change. She was of course greeted with merciless teasing and laughter when she returned the next day. Though she claimed she wasn't even having her period and didn't know how the red spot had gotten there, most viewed this as a lame excuse and teased her even more for denying the obvious.

The truth didn't come out until after high school, when one of Ashley's ex-boyfriends, less fearful of her retribution, told the story of Ashley's cruel plot: she would wait for a day that her own period coincided with Rebecca's choice of her white jeans. Then she would linger behind when everyone else showered, and smear her own flow in the outside of the crotch of Rebecca's jeans. Rebecca could hardly be expected to look at her crotch in the mirror as she left the locker room and Ashley cunningly placed the smear towards the back, so that the shocked looks and laughter would follow Rebecca from behind, maximizing the time she would remain ignorant of her humiliation.

While you might think this would precipitate a reconciliation between me and Rebecca, bonded as we were by Ashley's wrath, the truth was more ignoble. Losers in high school tended to steer clear of one another, believing somehow that together they would offer a bigger target, compounding their suffering and confirming everyone's low estimation of them. Besides, I don't think Rebecca ever got over feeling bad about giving me the cold shoulder, and that awkwardness was only exacerbated by her own public humiliation. In retrospect, I wished it could have been so different. I looked forward to setting things right, but I couldn't have foreseen how right I would set them.

I had set out to find Rebecca, but before I could I ran into Ashley again. This time we were waiting to pick up our kids after a late rehearsal for the high school play. Rachel and Lucy weren't good friends but they were often in plays together. I wondered if Ashley had signed the release saying they could spank Lucy.

At first there were a lot of parents there but the crowd eventually dwindled until it was just Ashley and me. She maneuvered to stand next to me, acting like she'd just ended up there.

‘You left me all black and blue,' she whispered. I don't think she had fully decided whether to play it as righteous anger or laugh it off as a joke. I shrugged. ‘It could have been serious. The bruises didn't go away for a week. I worried I might need to see a doctor.' I shrugged again. ‘The worst were the bruises on my thighs. They made it so I couldn't wear half my skirts.'

Poor Ashley.

‘I had to hide so Lucy didn't see them. What would she think?'

Probably the truth.

‘You did it so it really hurt. You know you did.'

She said it like an accusation, as if it were something I was inadvertently guilty of and not something I had set out to do from the beginning.

‘Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Bruce?'

‘Hello, Ashley, how are you?'

‘Don't play games with me, Bruce.'

‘I wasn't playing games, Ashley, I was treating you in a friendly and polite manner, which is more than I can say for how you're treating me.'

‘Well, I think you owe me an apology.'

‘What do you think I owe you an apology for, Ashley?'

‘You know what.'

‘For spanking you?'

‘Shhhh. Don't say it so loudly, someone will hear.'

‘You mean you don't want anyone to know that you were spanked, Ashley?'

‘Shhhh. No, I don't think it's okay for you to do that, and I don't want people to know that I inadvertently sunk to your level.'

‘If you want an apology, Ashley, insulting me is hardly the way to get it. In fact, your condescension reminds me exactly why I did it in the first place. My only regret is that you evidently didn't learn your lesson.'

‘Just what are you suggesting?'

Was she asking for it? I was baffled. I expected her to be mad at me. I expected she would hate me. I'd made the calculations in my head and decided it was worth it. After all, what did I have to lose? But this? Did she actually want another spanking? Were all her complaints just invitations? Maybe it hit a nerve in her; maybe someone had finally been real with her; and maybe she wanted it to happen again. Maybe, but maybe not. She looked pissed, not flirty. I could tell she really wanted her words to hurt me. But maybe part of her fell back into this bitchy act while another part struggled to escape. Her inner battle intrigued me. I wanted to draw it out, to bring the fighting to the surface and to see how she dealt with it. At that moment I was pretty sure I would be spanking Ashley again.

‘You baffle me, Ashley.'

‘Why is that, Bruce?'

‘I don't think you know whether you loved your spanking or hated it.'

‘Well I know I hated it. And I think I would hate you too if I didn't feel so sorry for you.'

‘There you go again, Ashley. It's like you're goading me. It's like you want something from me.'

‘Dream on.'

‘Have it your way.'

I turned toward the door that Rachel would emerge from. Neither of us said anything for a minute. I began to wonder if I'd made the wrong move, but she finally cracked. She turned towards me, put her hand on my chest and looked up at me, doe-eyed.

‘Please don't think I'm a monster, Bruce.'

‘Is that what I think?'

‘You've only seen my bad side. I have a good side, too.'

‘I'm sorry I've never met that side of you.'

‘I'm sorry, Bruce. I really am.'

‘Me too.'

‘I really meant it when I said I was a bitch to you. I know I'd been wrong, but it was high school. What did we know?'