Anna was the sister I never had - my co-conspirator, my confident, my other half, and my best friend for life. We’d done everything together since the day I’d moved into the neighborhood as a kid. We’d grown up together, doing everything from homework to first sleepovers, going to our first concerts to trying our first and only cigarette which we’d stolen out of her dad’s pack. We’d also resigned ourselves to the fate of going off to college as virgins.
Okay, “resigned” is a dramatic word. It's not like either of us had managed to get all the way through high school without giving it up for lack of offers; we were popular enough, we’d been on the soccer team together, and we were social enough. But the reality was just that neither of us had ever felt like having our first time be a fumbled back-seat awkwardness with some sweaty-handed high-school guy.
Okay, it might have been fantasy, but we'd been raised on thousands - literally thousands - of romance movies, books and TV shows. And the hero who the girl eventually let herself be swept away by was never inexperienced, or pimply, or most likely so excited that the whole thing would last thirty seconds. No, both Anna and I just wanted a real man for that first time; a guy who'd sweep us off our feet and show us how it was done, not someone who'd apologize afterwords.
So, we decided college it was. College is where we'd find older, more experienced guys, and so until then, we'd just stay the two virgins with the unfortunate rep of being “cock-teases”.
Yeah, can you blame us for wanting to wait?
Anna and I were so ridiculously close, in fact, that not only had we both applied to and gotten accepted to the same school in Boston, but we’d also decided to be roommates. I know, nauseating, right? Yeah, everyone told us we’d hate each other, or that we needed to meet other people, but we respectfully disagreed. After all, college was a big deal, and who wouldn’t want their best friend there with them as their safety net?
But as I was saying, it was that last summer when it all happened.
You see, it wasn't that I'd never noticed Mr. Weaver like I did that last summer before college, but I guess it had always just been that I'd been distracted by other things going on. Looking back of course, I have no idea how anything could have ever distracted me from how crazy hot my much older employer and neighbor was. I mean sure, we'd seen him plenty of times before at his pool, or when he jogged around the block shirtless and sweaty - I'm sure causing quite a fluster with some of the housewives in the neighborhood. He kept himself in amazing shape, and I know he also probably drew the jealousy of more than a few husbands of those housewives.
I suppose I always had a little crush on him, in an awkwardly flirtatious schoolgirl way. But I'd grown up since I'd first starting working for the Weavers, and I'd started to look at men - especially men who looked like Tyler Weaver - in a whole new, wholly adult way. And when I accidentally saw him like that, on THAT fateful day, I knew then how things were going to play out. Seeing him that day set something in motion and put a fire inside of me like nothing else ever had. And it was that day when I knew, despite every rational thought that said otherwise, or how crazy it was, that the much older and entirely inappropriate Tyler Weaver would be my first.
Of course, that came later, so let me explain.
Chapter 2
Tyler
When the moving truck full of roughly half the furniture in my house pulled away, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Relief.
Yeah, that sounds shitty to say, but that’s exactly the feeling that was going through my head knowing the final chapter of this particular book was almost finished. And now here I was, forty years old, and a divorcé.
About damn time.
Because really, whatever I’d thought I’d found with Rebecca back when we were younger never really was there. I’d given up life on the road happily, and on my own accord, to be with her. Yeah, the touring life was fun, and playing music like that was one of the best things I’d ever experienced in my life. And sure, settling down with Rebecca meant stopping that, but I was okay with that decision.
The music was fun, the women were a lot of fun, but the constant nomad shit had gotten old for me. I just wanted a fucking home base; some place to come home to at night and just put my feet up instead of trying to catch sleep on a fucking tour bus. And if that meant getting married and settling into suburbia? Bring it on.
Except it was pretty clear from the get-go that whatever Rebecca and I thought we had wasn’t actually there. We just weren’t the people we’d thought each other were. For instance, I always thought she’d wanted kids, but turns out she had no intention of that happening. Example number two might be that I thought she’d stay faithful.
Yeah, whoops.
Really though, when that shit came out, I wasn’t even mad anymore. I was just ready to move on and get back to being me. So, when she wanted to leave me for that guy? No problem; it was the move we both needed. So I waved the prenup in her face, signed the papers, and here I was cracking a beer and settling down into my half-empty living room, watching the moving truck drive away.
Yeah, like I said, relief.
The sudden sound of shrieks and giggling and splashing shook the thoughts from my head, and I frowned as I got up to go peek out the back window.
My frown disappeared the second I looked out, and my jaw dropped a little
Holy shit, well that’s a nice fucking way to welcome bachelorhood.
It was like the male fantasy come to life, splashing around in my pool, and I groaned.
I’d always told Christina Ames from up the street that she could come over whenever she wanted to use the pool. I mean I was friends with her parents, and I considered her responsible enough, seeing as she worked for me doing stuff around the house.
I’d never remotely strayed from Rebecca, but I did have eyes. And yeah, there was a little guilt about the way my cock twitched whenever Christina came over to do a little work around the house. Guilt because I was a married man, guilt because I was friends with her damn parents, and guilt because of how inappropriately young she was. I mean she was eighteen, and legal, when I first started noticing the young woman she’d become. But once you noticed something like that - yeah, good luck not noticing.
Just like good luck not thinking all sorts of wholly inappropriate things when a girl who looks like Christina Ames shows up smiling at your door. She was all legs, with this tight little ass, smooth, toned torso, full ripe young tits, and the face of a damn angel. Bright blue eyes, fully pouty pink lips, and long blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders and fell halfway down her back.
Yeah, like a red-blooded man isn’t going to notice something like that parading around his house. Or half-naked in his pool, I might add.
She was fucking perfect. And yeah, I knew it was so fucking wrong to think about her like that, but damn didn’t I didn’t lose myself in those lips, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. I wanted to spread those long, slender legs and bury my tongue between them. I wanted to know if she tasted as good when she came as I thought she probably did.
And then there was Anna Riley, who I’d swear was her sister but for the red hair and the paler complexion. I didn’t know her as well as Christina - wasn’t really familiar with her parents, and of course she didn’t work for me like Christina did. But I’d definitely caught myself watching her too whenever the two of them were hanging around.
Hanging around, or say, parading and cavorting around in the pool wearing these tiny little bikinis that made the blood roar in my ears and my cock rock hard in my pants. Christina and Anna, looking like original fucking sin; like temptation on a stick. Barely legal, totally untouchable, totally off-limits temptation. Because as crazy hot the two girls jumping around in the shallow end of the pool were like some sort of wicked dirty fantasy, there was no fucking way I should’ve been having the thoughts I was immediately having about the two of them. Because these girls were way off limits, in a major fucking way.
I
need another drink.
It was early afternoon, but I didn’t give a shit as I grabbed a beer from the fridge and cracked it. I turned and glanced out the window again, and groaned as I gritted my teeth. I mean they were wrestling for Christ’s sake - arms and legs around each other and giggling as they tumbled around the shallow end without a thought in the world about how hard they were making my dick. I sipped my beer, and before I knew it, I realized my hand was sliding over the front of my pants and grabbing my hard cock through my jeans.
I quickly shook my head and took a huge pull from the beer. Jesus Christ, day one of bachelorhood and I was that creepy fucking old guy day-drinking and stroking his cock to tight little inappropriate eighteen year olds.
But I didn’t care; at all. I was free, I was me again, and Goddamnit, these two were legal.
I left the beer on the kitchen counter before I took the stairs two at a time to my relatively empty bedroom upstairs. And I had my cock out and my eyes glued on the two hot little nymphs in the pool through the crack in the bedroom window blinds before I could even think about it.
‘Oh, hello Mr. Weaver!’ That flash of smile, that utterly perfect face with those bright blue eyes shining as she smiles. That tight little tank top and those downright scandalous cut-off jean shorts. Those pink toenails in her flip-flops. ‘Hot out isn’t it?’ Her laugh is musical as it tinkles out across my ears.
In the actual memory, she’s just coming over to do some light bookkeeping for me. But the fantasy is quite different.
‘It’s SO hot in fact, that I think I need to strip down a little, don’t you think?’ I nod, growling as she tugs that tank top off, her full young tits spilling out and what I imagine to be perfect little pink nipples hard and eager.
‘Actually, Mr. Weaver, I think what’ll really cool me off is if you’d let me suck your cock and swallow every drop of your cum.’
I groan as I watch Christina and Anna cavort around the pool; watch their tight young bodies glistening in the sun, their laughter like a teasing electric shock right in my ear.
‘I’ve never done anything like this, Mr. Weaver. I’ve only practiced kissing with my friend Anna,’ she says, dropping to her knees and reaching for my belt. I watch in awe as she leans forward, tilting her face up at me as she slowly wraps those soft young lips around my fat cock.
Out in reality, I groan, jerking my dick faster and harder as I watch the two girls pull themselves from the pool and start to dry off. They pad their way to the beach chairs to the side and lay there glistening in the sun, their tight young bodies fully on display. And as I stroke myself and imagine little Christina Ames on her knees with my cock in her mouth while I stare at the real thing out there in that crazy hot bikini, it’s the last straw.
I groan as the cum explodes out the tip of my cock, spraying in thick ropes across the hardwood floor of the bedroom. But in my head, it’s filling Christina’s hot, wet young mouth.
I slump against the wall, feeling my pulse pounding in my ears.
Yeah, this might be a problem.
Chapter 3
Christina
It was hot the day it happened.
I hadn’t actually gone over to do any work at the Weavers since they’d officially split up, but Tyler had left a message on our house answering machine the day before asking about me coming over and doing a little housekeeping that day. It was a little bit earlier than normal when I headed over, but again, it was still way better job than bussing tables or flipping burgers. So I threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed my bikini, and headed over.
I had a key to their place, so I let myself in to get to work.
“Hello? Mr. Weaver?”
The house was quiet and I furrowed my brow before I decided he must be in the studio or out for a run or something and just got to work. I pulled my long blonde hair out of my face and tied it back and started in the living room, which was looking every bit the bachelor pad it now was with just a single man living in the house. I felt bad for Tyler, with Rebecca not just divorcing him but actually leaving him for another man? I mean, what was her problem? Tyler was ridiculously hot and in amazing shape, he was wealthy, he was fun and cool, and he was a genuinely nice person. He’d always had something nice to say to Anna and I whenever we’d come over to swim, and always been the life of the party at neighborhood cookouts. It just didn’t seem fair that he’d gotten so screwed by her.
I moved through the living room, picking up beer cans and empty pizza boxes and shaking my head at how unfair this was for him. I cleaned the windows and dusted the entertainment center, but as I went to move the open laptop on the coffee table to clean that, the screen suddenly came to life, and I froze.
Holy shit.
There were at least five browser windows open to pictures of bare, nude women. I could feel my cheeks instantly flush red, and I know I should have just closed the laptop right there and pretended I’d never seen it, but I couldn’t help but just stare. They were all younger girls around my age with tight bodies and soft round breasts. I felt my whole face burn bright red as my eyes darted across shot after shot of hot models, some with hands cupping their firm young breasts, while other were bent over, their fingertips brushing across pink, wet pussies.
Yeah, I should have looked away, or closed the laptop, but I couldn’t. And ever stranger was that I could feel my own body reacting to the erotic pictures on the screen. I bit my lip, feeling the little tingle of arousal flush through me, and felt the heat pool between my legs.
Okay, he was a newly single guy; it’s not like it was weird that he’d been looking at porn. Actually, the more I thought about it, the hotter the idea of it was. And there was something extra dirty about the fact that these girls were all so young that made my wicked little fantasy involving Tyler Weaver all the more hot.
I heard a movement from upstairs, and I quickly shut the laptop and darted into the kitchen. I took a deep breath, trying to force the heat from my cheeks as I started to pour myself a glass of water from the sink as I heard Tyler coming down the stairs.
"Morning Mr. Weaver." I said cheerily as I heard him come in to the kitchen behind me.
"Oh, shit,” he said quickly, his voice sounding surprised. I turned and immediately gasped as I felt my cheeks go bright red.
Mr. Weaver was standing in the kitchen doorway in just a pair of boxers, the front of which was pushing out in a huge looking bulge.
He stepped quickly behind the island counter, clearly still waking up and maybe not really aware of what I'd just seen. I mean, I'd grown up playing in their pool, and I'd of course seen him wearing just a swimsuit before. But that was a far cry from seeing his morning erection tenting the inside of his boxers.
“I, uh-” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I forgot I’d asked you to come over today.” He gave me a funny look, probably trying to figure out why I was beet-red and staring at him with my mouth hanging open.
God he was an attractive man. Mr. Weaver may have had a stay-at-home desk job these days, but damn did he keep in great shape. His thickly muscled, tattooed arms were crossed across his chiseled chest, which was covered in brown hair that teased down over his rippling abs and then lower still, down past the waist of his boxers. His piercing blue eyes twinkled and a curious smile teasing the corners of his perfect lips as he peered at me.
“Everything okay, Christina?"
I shook myself back into the present as I hastily turned back towards the sink to hide my blushing cheeks.
"Um, yep! All good, Mr. Weaver!" I could hear him pouring coffee behind me. “Sorry if I’m a little early.”
“Nah, not a problem. You just got here?”
I swallowed before I made myself to turn back around and smile at him, forcing my gaze to focus on his eyes instead of all over his bare chest. “A little while ago. I’ve already started on the living room.”
There was a flash of something in his face as his eyes darted to the doorway to the living room. I blushed again, re
alizing he was probably thinking of the laptop.