At the age of sixteen I was a high school sophomore thirsting for sex. I was good looking and owned a car. I dated a lot of girls. But never had my eager fingers stroked a girl’s breast. Never had my hand been allowed beneath a girl’s skirt. Dates turned out to be make out sessions, after which I would go home and masturbate.
It was late in the school year when Lisa Franks transferred to our school from York, Pennsylvania. She was tall, thin and stoop-shouldered. She had stringy, unkempt hair and wore giant black eyeglasses. Her nose was too big for her narrow face and her teeth were crooked. She was promptly named Lisa the Geek. She was treated poorly and bullied online.
Lisa sat next to me in Civics class but we never spoke. One day, she surprised me. While filing out of the classroom, she took me by the elbow and said, “Hey, wanna hang out some night?”
Was Lisa the Geek asking me out? Like all guys, I liked to date girls whom I deemed pretty. But I felt badly about the way she was being treated. Besides, there was something alluring about dating a senior.
She said, “You have a car, right?”
“How did you know?”
She said, “Oh, I know things. Meet me at McDonald’s, Friday night at seven. You can buy me a burger.”
*****
She looked different at McDonald’s. She did not wear glasses and her unkempt hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. She wore eyeliner and lipstick. She talked a bit about her childhood and I learned that she’d been held back a year in grade school due to injuries from a car accident.
I said, “So you’re…”
“Nineteen,” she said. “Almost twenty.”
“Wow. So you’re really robbing the cradle here. But why me?”
“Because you’re cute,” she said. “You’re a peach.”
Automatically I said, “You’re cute too.”
She looked at me quizzically, threw her head back and laughed. She had a great laugh. Her eyes sparkled and her not-so-crooked teeth gleamed. It confounded me because, at that moment, she looked fine.
I asked her if she missed York and she said, “Nah.”
“Were you popular?”
“Believe it or not,” she said, “I had a lot of boyfriends. Maybe that’s why the girls didn’t like me.”
She stood up suddenly and said, “Let’s go for a ride.”
I drove aimlessly for a while, working up my courage. I finally pulled into a favorite spot of mine, the deserted parking lot of an old gravel pit.
When I stopped the car she said, “What’s this? Is this where you seduce all the girls?”
“I wish,” I said.
Lisa the Geek was a beautiful and very experienced kisser. From the outset I was out of my league. I’d never been kissed so softly, so passionately. She had me panting. My cock was pounding away in my pants. I put my hand on her bare knee. She did not stop me as my hand crept up her warm thigh. Meanwhile, a soft hand slipped under my shirt and came to rest on my stomach.
All this extracurricular touching was new to me. Why the hand on my belly? What was the purpose of it? And what would I do when my hand reached its destination? Sure enough, I hit paydirt–her panties. But my fingers only bounced around clumsily. Meanwhile, the warm hand on the cool skin of my stomach felt divine.
She had me seriously worked up. I was breathing much too heavily. Our tongues were dancing furiously. When she pushed a finger into my mouth, I moaned. Then, with no warning whatsoever, the hand on my stomach plunged down into my pants. When she grabbed my cock I came instantly, violently. It was a long, shuddering orgasm during which my face was buried in her neck.
When it was over, my dick went soft and every ounce of desire disappeared. She removed her hand and said, “Well then, I guess that’s that.”
Then, in a perky voice, she said, “Let’s go for ice cream–my treat.”
We sat in a booth nursing our sundaes. She broke the silence and said, “Well, it was fun while it lasted. Oh…sorry.”
My ears were red. I felt them burning. She said, “I’m guessing I was the first to do that to you…I mean…you know…besides yourself.”
Now my entire head was on fire. I was a ripe tomato.
“Hah,” she said, “I knew it. That explains everything. Listen Peach, you got nothin’ to worry about. Besides, I wasn’t down there very long but I got the impression that you’re…you know…kinda big.”
“I wouldn’t know. I have no way of knowing.”
“Oh stop it. You never went to camp? Never had a special buddy?”
“Let’s just go.”
Out at the car, I wasn’t sure if the date was over. We started to kiss while standing. She said, “You need to kiss softer. Nobody likes a masher.”
“I’ll try,” I said, “on one condition”
“Which is?”
“Stand up straight when you walk.”
She pressed her lips against my ear and said softly, “Let’s go back to that place.”
Back at the gravel pit I kissed her as softly as I could. At one point she went,”mmmm.” I’d never made a girl moan before. My cock went bonkers.
This time she would not allow my hand beneath her skirt. She said, “Not tonight, hon.” Frankly, I was relieved because I didn’t know what to do anyway. But she wasted little time grabbing my cock. Instead of cumming, I felt a blooming, surging sense of power at the center of my groin. She quickly unfastened me as, together, we pulled my jeans down to my knees. Like a bird springing from it’s cage, my erection leaped to freedom, bobbing and weaving like boxer in the ring.
We were parked beneath a security lamp which gave her a good view. “Oh my,” she said. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
I’d lied when I told her that I didn’t know if I was big. Yes, I’d been to camp, and yes, I had a special buddy back in the day. I’d also watched my share of internet porn, so I knew about size. Certainly, it was long. But its distinction was its girth. It was thicker, easily, than the wrist of Lisa the Geek, nearly as thick as my own. Most prominent, however, was the fat, defined head, a veritable red helmet that glistened when swollen. There were hundreds of threadlike veins all over the damn thing. But coursing vertically down its center was a dramatic blue vein thicker than a pencil.
She brought a fingernail up along that blue vein and said, “Oh, and a river runs through it.” As if gauging it’s thickness, she gently squeezed the shaft. Our eyes met and she said, “There’s nothin’ like this in York, Pennsylvania.
When her ten fingers began to work on me, I gasped. A little whimper escaped from me. Immediately my new sense of sexual prowess vanished. My heart was racing. She pushed a finger into that fat blue vein. I felt my frenetic pulse pounding against her fingertip.
She said, “Are you having a heart attack? Lord, what have I done to you?”
She proceeded to put me a through a clinic, a thorough, all too steamy anatomical exploration of my own genitalia. It drove me through the roof of my own car. I watched her long slender fingers as they slithered all over me. She had me panting, gulping for breath. Her fingers were firm and resolute until they suddenly became soft, delicate feathers. She was a master technician. I was a babe in the woods.
She wanted to know if I knew about my taint. I did not. She pushed a finger into it and we watched my cock jump. She did it again and again as my dick went ballistic, bouncing about like a crazy balloon animal. I remembered something she’d said back at the school. Oh, I know things.
With one set of fingers softly teasing my balls, the other set worked the underside of my cock searching for sweet spots, nerve endings. When she hit a sensitive spot I moaned and she said, “Oh that’s a good one right there.”
For some reason I’d never thought of a girl doing this with both hands. A long, unfortunate groan escaped from me and she said, “Aw, what’s wrong Babe? Dontcha like it?”
She removed her hands and said, “Dontcha like little Lisa? Want little Lisa to stop?”
“Oh…don’t stop.”
I was in a desperate, frantic state but she was in no hurry. She worked on me for a very long time. She finally made her way up to the head. With a thumb on the front of the crown and a middle finger behind it, she applied an infinitesimal amount of pressure. “This is the frenulum,” she said, “the mother of all sweet spots.”
With just the tiniest amount of increased pressure on that sensitive spot, my arms and shoulders began to shake. Indeed, I was trembling all over. She held me there, paralyzed. With two fingers, she had rendered me helpless. I could neither move nor speak. I would always remember this as the moment when Lisa the Geek took total control of me. As I sat there trembling she said, “Are you okay babe? Yes? No? You don’t look okay.”
From the tip of my penis there now emerged a sizable dollop of cum. “Oh look,” she said, “a little present for Lisa.”
With the tip of a finger she brought that drop of syrup down to the frenulum and began rubbing it into the skin. It was heavenly torture. But there’s only so much a guy can take. I knew that it needed to end. I cocked my hips and thrust my pelvis and dick upward. Taking my cue she began stroking in earnest. It was time to finish me off. I closed my eyes and she really went to work as my hips bucked to her perfect grip. I felt a finger pushing into my taint as she said, in an urgent whisper, “Look at it! Look at it now!”
I opened my eyes and saw her lovely hand in motion. The tiny veins in my cock were swollen, bursting. And the head was barely recognizable, a fat, gleaming, polished red apple. I closed my eyes as she took me up into the sky, into the clouds. The explosion was volcanic, spilling over with molten psychedelic lava. Fireworks went off against my closed eyelids. It went on and on and on. When I opened my eyes I was still hard and she was still stroking. She had corralled my load in her hand and was working it like lotion into the skin of my still hard dick.
When I was completely dry she released me. I took a deep breath, sighed, and said, “Man, so that’s what it’s all about.”
“Yeah babe,” she said. “That’s what it’s all about.”
Now there was a hand, a slender white hand floating to me in the fashion of a princess. I took her fingers to my lips. They had the sweet, musky odor of my erection and my eruption. She pushed two fingers into my mouth and I sucked on them, tasting myself. She pulled them out and I kissed all five lovely fingers: one, two, three, four, five.
She said, “Aw you’re welcome, Peach.”
We were parked at the curb in front of the McDonald’s where we’d met earlier. She said, “By the way, the prom’s in two weeks and you’re taking me.”
“I am? That’s really cool. But you need to know what’s NOT funny.”
“I give up,” she said. “What’s NOT funny?”
“When I said you were cute you laughed out loud. And it’s NOT funny because you really are cute, very cute.”
She kissed me on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Peach. But don’t get any big ideas about prom night ’cause you’re not gonna fuck me. At least not yet.”
She got out of the car. Before closing the door she leaned in and said, “But if you get lucky, this cutie will teach you how to touch a girl.”
I watched her ambling along the sidewalk away from me. She was walking tall, ramrod straight, shoulders thrown back, ponytail swishing side to side as if waving goodnight to me. I had no doubt that she would teach me well. For after masturbating clumsily a thousand times, I finally knew how to touch myself.
For the first time in my life, I looked forward to school on Monday. I wanted Lisa to call me Peach in front of the entire class, or out in the hallway with a hundred kids watching.
I wanted the whole school to know: Lisa the Geek likes me, calls me Peach, and I belong to her.
