I had a great time tonight. Really hope to see you again soon, CJ texted, as soon as I got home.
No chance! I replied.
Really??
Yes. I don’t go out with guys who don’t share the story about their VERY personal car choice decision over dinner, then feel me up in the back of a limo! NEVER!
Never?
Well. Almost never, I texted, attaching a laughing emoji.
Maybe something that monumental happens on the second date, he replied.
I will hold you to that! Thank you for dinner, BTW. I don’t remember telling you before.
Pleasure was mine. Do you work in the morning? CJ asked.
No. LOL
So… Maybe breakfast?
Do you hear me when I speak? Or do you just wait for my lips to stop moving before you talk? LOL. I go to HIGH SCHOOL in the morning!
Sorry. I realized that as soon as I sent it. My mistake. I DO hear you. It’s just not so easy to reconcile your age with your maturity.
My maturity? Pretty sure you had both hands on my “maturity”. LOL
“Busted”, so to speak, CJ quipped.
Well, you charmed my top off. Can’t believe I let you do that with your driver there. Thank GOD that’s all he saw!
He should have driven us around longer. LOL
Well, I will not let that happen again. It was fun and funny… kinda sexy. But I would be sick if he had seen any more.
Tony does not have a mirror that faces the back seats. I’m not saying he couldn’t see us. But it would have been difficult for him. He’s a discreet professional and wouldn’t tread on our privacy anyway. But next time, I will put up the partition. OK?
I’m sorry. I must sound awful. I felt weird with everyone seeing me leave in a limo from work today. Such a formal way to pick up a girl my age for a dinner date. It isn’t Tony. I’m just not used to that kind of attention. Our whole evening was like a fairy tale for me.
Well, Princess, I think I’m the one who is bewitched in your fairy tale. You certainly cast a spell on me,” CJ replied.
I don’t believe you. But thank you for saying it. lol
Would you be comfortable having dinner at my house tomorrow? CJ asked.
Like a family dinner?
No. Not with my family. We rarely eat together. LOL. Just me.
Sure! I quickly answered.
OK. Get off at 7?
I’m off tomorrow since I have to work all day Saturday.
Oh! OK! If you want to come early, you could join me for a workout and swim. If you want.
As long as Tony isn’t the lifeguard. LOL
Hahaha! Deal. Let me know when you’re on the way. But if the gate isn’t open, just use the code – 5443.
I will. Thank you again for dinner tonight. I felt really special! Have a good night, Creighton, I sent, attaching a smile emoji.
LOL. Pleasure was mine. Goodnight, Heather.
I tossed my cell phone on the bed. Then I unbuttoned my blouse, quietly laughing to myself at how much faster CJ was at it. After dropping my blouse to the floor, I stepped in front of my mirror. I traced the line of my bra over my breasts, just as CJ had done. Recalling his touch gave me chill bumps on my arms.
“Yep. If that limo driver hadn’t stopped when he did… you would have fucked him,” I said to my reflection.
I would have done it, too. What was I thinking? I wondered. I’m not planning on being a virgin forever, but I definitely wasn’t expecting to give it up in the back of a limo at sixteen years old! And to a much older guy.
I unsnapped the back of my bra and let it fall from my shoulders. CJ thought I was at least twenty-one. If all he’s looking at are these, I can see why he got confused about my age, I mused. I watched the girl in my mirror grab and hold handfuls of my tits. They do look and feel perfect.
My hands moved down my body, to the back of my skirt. I pulled the zipper and watched the short skirt slide down my legs. OKAY. Those are good legs, I thought. Maybe not twenty-something legs, but they are pretty fucking good.
I teased my pussy a little bit over the lace T-back panties. Another ten seconds and he would have been in these. I fed my fingers into the side of my pretty panties, finding a very wet spot. “Ohhh, yes,” I moaned quietly. My eyes closed, and I began imagining CJ’s touch. When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a very lustful representation of myself.
“We’re doing this,” I said out loud, stepping out of my heels and crawling onto my bed. I stacked a couple of pillows and lay back against my headboard. My knees were bent, folding my legs to one side. I closed my eyes and imagined CJ touching my calves and the backs of my thighs.
My head lay back against the pillow as I relived the moment CJ pulled me underneath him. “Mmm. Take me,” I moaned. My hands moved up my body, taking firm grips of my breasts, feeling my nipples harden against my palms. Breathing so hard, wanting CJ’s hands on me. I massaged and squeezed my tits, imagining what almost happened tonight.
With my eyes shut tight, I lay my legs out straight. I lifted my bottom off the bed and felt CJ’s hands sliding my panties down. I gave myself completely to the fantasy, feeling CJ open my thighs. “Ohhh,” I groaned, tracing my fingers between the folds of my little pussy lips. “Yes,” I exhaled, as I felt CJ slide a finger inside me. “Yes. Touch me, CJ,” I whispered.
“Oh my God! I am soaked,” I sighed, sucking my wet fingers. My hands were CJ’s hands – one groping, massaging and kneading my tits, the other searching and finding my aroused clit. The intensity of our kissing in the limo had already overstimulated me, and I felt myself gush wetness within seconds.
I drove my hips off the bed, urgently pushing my fingers into my pussy and holding pressure on my clit as an orgasm swept over me. My body locked in the sexual position in which I imagined CJ was taking me. When my climax subsided and my mind had become my own again, I felt my body fall flat to the bed. “I want you,” I whispered, before sleep took me.
I woke up in the same position my body was in when I crashed last night. Apart from laying on a soaked comforter, I felt wonderful, relaxed. Limousine, I laughed to myself, turning on the shower. “What were you thinking?” I asked the sleep-weary girl in the mirror. “Best of luck getting your mind out of the back seat of that limo, Heather,” my reflection mocked.
Those words were certainly a portent for how my day at school turned out. When the bell rang ending my World History class, the whiteboard was covered in notes… none of which had made it to my notebook. I snapped a pic of the board and kicked myself for letting a guy steal my ability to think.
What was I thinking in World History… for an entire hour? What I was going to wear over to CJ’s house tonight. Yes. That’s right. For an hour. I don’t think I have ever spent more than five minutes deciding on what clothes I would wear, anywhere.
Part of me was disappointed that I was off work today. I needed to bend someone else’s brain and fuck up their ability to concentrate. I’ve had guys chase me before. Hell, I even leant into the coquettish advances of my male teachers. Being a flirt and having fun with it meant I didn’t get hurt. I’m in charge. Nobody fucks up MY head. Ugh. Until now.
After school, I traded texts with my dad. I let him know about my dinner plans, and that I would be coming in late. He’s such a homebody, I feel like the parent sometimes, worrying if my daddy is eating right and taking care of himself. He texted back, OK. Have fun! which meant he might have a date of his own.
Daddy is a good-looking man. He’s well-groomed, keeps himself in shape. Oddly enough, he would be my “type”, if I baked all my attraction needs into one big pie – trustworthy, sense of humor, loyal, good looking… Someday some lucky woman is going to steal him from me.
So apparently an hour in my history class was wasted because I don’t like anything in my closet, I complained. I was seriously excited about getting in a workout and possibly swimming in CJ’s pool. But dressing for that and then lowering his expectations for how he would expect me to look at dinner was driving me crazy. So I decided to show up dressed for dinner. Then if we worked out or got in the pool, I would bring things for that.
On my way, I texted CJ.
OK. Gate is open. Come to the back. I’m in the pool house. Just look for my 330! LOL
Dressed for dinner. But I brought workout stuff and a swimsuit.
Good. See you in a few!
The driveway (or two-lane road) from the gate of Shale Rock to the main house launched about a million butterflies from my stomach. Of course, the house was impressive. But I wasn’t just a teenage girl who’s in awe of such opulence. I really liked this guy… before I knew anything about his wealth. It was intimidating, feeling unworthy of someone’s attention who had all that to offer.
I parked next to CJ’s BMW, smiled at the confident, sexy girl in the mirror, then got out of my car. CJ came out of what I had to assume was the pool house, heading over to me, while I grabbed my bag of extra clothes from the back seat. He looked comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt.
“Of course I’m underdressed when you take me to dinner. Then OVERdressed when you invite me to your home,” I laughed, nervously.
“You look terrific! And I look forward to staring at you in that dress during dinner!” CJ beamed. “But what do you say about a little workout or swim first?”
“You know I sweat, right?” I laughed. “I am all about a good workout, but I’m thinking a swim might be a better idea.”
CJ gave me a tour of the gym. It was massive, impressive. Throw a superlative at the Shale Rock gym and it would find a place to stick. Mirrored walls, machine weights, free weights, rowing machines, treadmills… you name it, their gym was equipped with it. One wall was unmirrored, used as the screen for projected TV or movies to watch during your workout.
“OK. I’m moving into this gym,” I said, in awe.
“Well, I’d be your only trespasser,” CJ joked. “Nobody else ever even comes in here.”
I didn’t want to think poorly of CJ’s parents, having never met them. But that statement kinda summed up a lot of people’s stereotype of the rich. They build and furnish extravagant things, then never use them.
The pool house was equally striking. I had imagined four concrete walls surrounding a little pool. The four walls were about the only thing I had right. Three of the walls were twenty-foot tall windows, with solid partitions that could be raised and lowered for privacy or sun exposure. Behind the other wall were the bathrooms, jacuzzi, and dry sauna.
When I was younger, I bit my nails to placate my nervousness. Witnessing firsthand the powerful wealth of someone I actually knew, replaced nervousness with unexplainable anxiety. I was flattered that CJ was interested in me. But I don’t belong here.
“What’s wrong?” CJ asked as we both realized my end of our dialog had suddenly become mute.
I took a deep breath, exhaling hard, then pointed around. “This. All this. It’s overwhelming,” I started, feeling really inadequate. “I’m sure this gets you a lot of play with the girls… but I just feel WAY out of place.”
I hated revealing my losing hand. It isn’t something I am accustomed to. But sometimes throwing in your cards early can spare a massive defeat down the road. I was acutely aware of everything that was mismatched between us. CJ saw a girl older than sixteen. And I saw him as a charming guy, a few years my senior, but attainable. How could those things be reconciled? I imagined windshield wipers sweeping hundreds of CJ’s off my misty eyes.
CJ took both my hands in his, smiling at me. “Believe it or not – hand on heart – YOU are the only girl I’ve asked to come here since… I don’t know… high school graduation.”
“I was going to call you a liar, but you know what? I don’t even care if you’re lying, that was really sweet. Thank you.”
CJ kissed me. His hands held my face and I melted. Maybe my fairy tale is still being written, I thought, smiling.
“You should put your swimsuit on… unless you want to eat dinner in a wet dress,” CJ said, playfully, his hands still holding my face.
End of Part – 3
