I hadn’t noticed the days getting shorter, but that didn’t make it so. Proof was fixed to the refrigerator door with a lemon-shaped magnet. The senior class schedule signified a chain of events that would end my summer and begin the last year of high-school. I turned away from the flow of the party and examined the page in an awkward attempt to look busy. Nodding dramatically as if its words solved some lingering mystery, my charade only reinforced a sinking feeling of isolation. I had never come to these parties before, and cursed myself for caving after avoiding so many previous invitations.

The beer was welcome surely, as was the pot-fuelled camaraderie with the boys—but we did that everyday. These parties were different. Sure they began under that guise, but then some unperceivable shift would occur, and the gathering would assume its true purpose as an authority-free laboratory for sexual experiment. I didn’t take part.

No one ever told me I wasn’t welcome, but that doesn’t mean I was. These people were my friends and allies, thrust suddenly from the nurturing order of junior high into the anxious chaos of high-school. Some kids came and went of course, but there was a core of us that remained the same. I was theirs, as much as they were mine. Together we survived, together we endured—mostly. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong end of mostly.

As we grew, little things that were overlooked with the innocence of youth subtly divided me from my friends. When the natural way of things started to wake in us changing our minds and bodies, I suddenly learned what it meant to be the ‘fat-kid’. My group would explore sex without me. The divisions weren’t conscious on their part and I didn’t resent them for it. Truthfully, I was embarrassed by my appearance and it’s doubtful I would have accepted any advances were they offered.

My friends paired off nicely however. Boyfriends and girlfriends switched places with an amazing speed, the more adventurous girls became increasingly popular. An unexpected advantage of those awkward high-school desks was their ability to hide a potent erection. I greedily absorbed all the detailed accounts of who had done what with whom, and stored them away for later use cock in hand. But this was the limit of my involvement.

My friends shared all their sordid details with great relish, and I quickly became schooled in the currency of sex. Feeling a tit had little value—even the shyest girl offered that freely, hoping the quantity of it made up for its perceived lack of worth as a sexual act. Touching a naked breast was a little better, but no one would volunteer that as the limit of their sexual coin. Eyewitness of a naked breast had great value however. Naked breasts were worth somewhere between a handjob and a blowjob. To see a girl’s naked breasts implied a level of trust and enthusiasm had been reached, and that greater riches were to come.

Soon I was intimately acquainted with most of my female friends’ sexual resumes and was able to tailor my fantasies to match. I knew Alice had masturbated my three best friends to orgasm, and could vividly imagine her tiny hands and chipped nail polish gripping my engorged cock.

Better still, my joyously indiscrete friend Shane had forwarded me some delicate pictures of his girlfriend Lisa. Truly, the pictures were innocent compared with the raw portraits of sex that flood the internet. But my true knowledge of Lisa as a person and friend since the sixth grade heightened the eroticism greatly. I could gaze at her two desks away from me, and then race home to enjoy the modest swell of her porcelain breasts before the memory of her perfume faded. Many long nights of grunting over those pictures finished with a satisfying splash. I took it as a vague consolation that my fantasy life allowed me to enjoy most of the girls in my class. Although each of my friends had known one or two for real, I knew almost all of them in my mind.

I suppose this is what brought me to the party in the end—a naive desire to compare my fantasy to reality. But standing there scrutinizing the fridge magnets, I knew this could come to no good. Witnessing the girls of my dreams writhe and cavort in the flesh served only to diminish my fantasy, and force me to see of the falseness of it. Here was the electricity of shared moments; the thick musky odours of sex—details of life that I could never imitate alone in the dark. And that was where I belonged, alone in the dark.

I would get one more drink to cement my self-pity, and then get the hell out of there. I made a determined line towards the bar, ignoring the unabashed display of teen-age sex around me. Erin was there mixing drinks for people, and I suppose it must have looked rude when I reached past her for a cup and began to mix my own drink. Other friends came and went as Erin adeptly took their empty cups and somehow remembered who drank what and fixed it for them.

I felt bad for being pushy and said as much. It suddenly occurred to me that Erin and I were the only uncoupled pair in the house. It made sense I smiled, she was the fat girl and I was the fat guy. I had to admit that Erin was actually pretty fucking adorable now that I took the time to see her. She had never been part of my masturbatory repertoire before, and now that seemed like a glaring omission. Erin was about 5’4″, near 200lbs, with a cute blonde bob and almond shaped brown eyes. But it was her crooked little front teeth and nervous overbite that gave me chills.

I must have stared too long because when I snapped back to the present, Erin was blushing and looking at the floor. I apologized quickly and suggested something about smoking too much weed. I went on fumbling something about the risks of mixing booze and marijuana, and in retrospect I’m sure I must have sounded like a complete idiot. But anything was better then admitting I was taking a mental picture of her so I could go home and masturbate.

At some point in my rambling, I absently volunteered that I had some killer weed at home, and to my chagrin Erin asked if we could go smoke some. All I wanted to do was go home, jerk off, and feel sorry for myself, but a hastily blurted ‘ok’ betrayed all that. In a few moments we were out of the party and into the sobering night air. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into and was suddenly terrified about the whole affair. My room was a mess, the promised marijuana was my younger brother’s, and a non-relative female had never stepped through that doorway before.

Erin made small talk on the way home softly chiding herself for going to another one of ‘those parties. ‘ Erin admitted that she attended every party and that they all ended the same way. Why she kept going she couldn’t say. Generally I added as little as possible, while my rapidly approaching house loomed like the gallows.

My plan was to get Erin into my room, steal my brother’s stash, smoke a few quick bowls and then get her out of there. The sooner she was gone, the sooner I could start the long hot jack-off session I had planned. My cock was straining ruthlessly in my pants, and I longed for the powerful release I knew my frustrations had bought me.

Finally we approached the dark shape of my house. I had had never quite appreciated the value of my own entrance to the basement until then. My small apartment was a mess, and I was sure that I could smell dried come, but Erin seemed pleased to be there. I motioned her to the sofa, and made a quick signal indicating I was going upstairs but would be right back.

My parents were home and asleep, but unluckily so was my brother. I had to wake him up quickly and haggle with him irritably for his last eighth of grass. Finally he threw the baggy at me in disgust and turned back to sleep. I rushed back downstairs surprised to find Erin in the exact place I had left her; although where I had expected her to wander I couldn’t say. Quietly, I closed the inner door to the house and set a few latches before barricading it with my bench-press. These were my regular ‘smoking pot in the house’ measures, but I realised how odd it might look to Erin just as I finished.

I was too frazzled to apologize for something I may have been imagining, so I fished my bong from its hiding place and quickly packed the bowl with weed. After a few minutes of sharing, I slowly began to drop my guard and relax into the sofa next to her. Erin surprised me by finding the catch to my lamp and turning it on. The room was definitely grungier in the light and I vowed to do something about it.

“My room is much messier,” Erin offered smiling in an attempt to put me at ease. Then after taking a long haul from the pipe, Erin kicked her shoes off and set her feet up onto my lap. I couldn’t say exactly why, but her little shoes clunking to the floor whispered a sexual promise somehow. I stifled a moan, as I almost came in my pants right then.

Erin must have noticed my conflict, because she quickly swung off of the sofa and climbed onto to my bed. At that moment all I wanted was for Erin to come back and rest her feet on my lap some more, but then I saw her fumbling with the Ziploc bag in a cute attempt to pack another bowl of weed. Suddenly everything she did was cute. I knew I wanted to remember the image of her sitting cross legged in the middle of my bed forever. Erin even sat the way I liked to sit—she was a plump little female me.

After she was done packing the bong, Erin held up the lighter and motioned me over. Cautiously I crawled onto the king-sized bed and took a hit as she lit the bowl under me.

“What did you think of the party?” she asked, as I sucked in a thick plume of creamy smoke.

“It was cool,” I replied. I didn’t want to ruin the moment with self-recrimination, but I should have been able to come up with something better then ‘cool’.

“You looked so mad when you came over to the bar. ” She added.

“More frustrated,” I replied quickly. But wished even quicker I could take it back. There were too many things ‘frustrated’ could mean, and all of them were embarrassing. But Erin nodded blankly, and a far-off look told me she was deep in thought.

“Me too,” she said finally. “I know I’m not attractive like the other girls. I don’t know why I keep going. Alice drags me along to help pick her guy and then ditches me every time. “

I could only manage a “Heh. ”

But Erin took it as encouragement and continued, “I’ve been going to those things for two years, and most of the girls have been having sex for at least the last three. “

“That sounds about right,” I added ponderously.

We were both sitting backs to the wall thinking the same things, but Erin had the bravery to put them to words.

“Are you frustrated, because you want to have… sex… but don’t feel attractive enough?”

Her words were blunt but pretty much summed it up. I didn’t answer right away, it seemed like we were dangerously close to some defining moment.

“Look at me—I’m the fat guy,” I answered suddenly. It hurt to say it so plainly, but nothing short of pure honesty seemed right after her overture. “I’m horny pretty much all of the time like any other guy in our class but–“

As I fumbled for the right words, Erin began to laugh coarsely. Of all the possible responses I had hoped for, laughter was at the bottom of the list just before vomiting. I felt a quick knot in my gut as if I had been kicked, and then shot to my feet. Abruptly Erin sensed what had happened and stood up quickly after me.

“No, no, no, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at us. You’re the horny fat guy, I’m the horny fat girl, and it took us three years and a chance meeting for us to get together when we could have been… “

Erin slowly pressed up against me, and I knew she felt my bulge straining against her belly. “They may not want us, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have what they have,” she said earnestly.

“It doesn’t?” I choked.

Erin ground harder onto me and laid her head against my chest. “The fat kids can do whatever they want together,” she said softly.

My head was swimming. The casual way she said ‘fat kids’ took the sting from the words, and lovingly shared the isolation we both felt from our friends. My heart pounded within my chest, and I suddenly knew that I would do anything for this delicate and sensitive creature. Wordlessly, I swore to all those wild oaths that men take in the grip of passion. I wanted to protect Erin, but more, I wanted her to know that I protected her.

She must have been waiting for some bold sweeping gesture, but the timid part of me had to be sure of what she was offering. “You wanna?” I asked weakly.

“I want to bad,” was her breathy reply. When she said the word ‘bad’, I saw her crooked little front teeth and melted. The only thing to do at that moment was kiss her, so I did.

The kiss was hugely erotic which surprised me. Kissing was never a part of my masturbatory scenarios, and I was missing out. I could have gone forever in that sweet clinch, but Erin broke away excited. “Turn on another light and let’s watch each other get naked,” she cooed.

I felt a surge of unease, but did as she asked. With a quick motion, Erin pulled off her top and then unfastened her bra. In the great haste to undo her pants, Erin fall backwards onto my bed and scissor-kicked them off with a big grin. I must have looked like an idiot again for the tenth time as I stood there smirking, but I just couldn’t believe there was a naked, willing girl lying on my bed. Erin was a big girl to be sure, but every pink curve on her made me tremble. Heavy anticipation made her bosom rise and fall with each breath. A beautiful teacup sized nipple embossed the center of each double-D tit.

“This is going to be so awesome,” she declared solemnly.

I finally realised she was waiting for me to begin undressing, and embarrassedly started to unbutton my top. “Don’t be like that,” Erin said in sudden answer to my hesitance. “I can’t be free about this if your not. “

The next thing I knew Erin pushed my hands away and continued unbuttoning my shirt. When it was all the way off, I stole a quick look to see if there was any reticence, but saw only lust in her eyes. My pants were tenting out uncomfortably, and Erin was delicate as she undid my buckle. When I felt my pants down at my knees, I blurted out, “it’s not big,” as if I was staving off some sudden disappointment. Erin didn’t respond or even look up, as she slowly pulled down my boxers to let my hard cock flop out before her.

I almost passed out from the charged atmosphere in the room, and Erin hadn’t even touched me yet. Her soft folds bunched together somewhat as she leaned forward, massive breasts hanging pendulously. I wanted to reach out and make sure she was real, but Erin clasped my hands to my side. We locked fingers together as she looked up towards me dreamily. Without breaking eye contact, she spat a little pink retainer into her palm and took the head of my cock into her mouth.

Softly, but with a powerful effort she began to suck. Erin only took the head at first, but the constant pressure of her sucking and the flicking of her tongue on my glans forced my eyes shut in bliss.

When I opened back up and found her deep brown eyes measuring the pleasure she gave me, I went over the edge. My hips buckled, and my knees went bandy, Erin gripped my fingers tighter holding me in place. All my years of steady and dutiful masturbation could not prepare me for the orgasm that was building. A low grunt rose up from my diaphragm announcing the first sustained shot of cum. Erin took it all down, as well as two more of lesser intensity accompanied by equal grunts. At no point during the blowjob had Erin broken eye-contact with me.

My eyes teared up as Erin rose to meet me in a hug. My still dripping cock left a warm trail along her belly. “We can have what they have,” I announced softly as I traced my thumb along her ear.

“Yeah,” Erin grinned. “And it’s my turn to get some. “

Taking her cue, I carefully lowered Erin onto to the bed, and stood above her smirking. The way her breasts and belly settled into flat pools as she lay prone got me hard again. Delicately, I picked up each of her little socked feet and tugged the stocking off. I didn’t have a thing for feet exactly, but at that moment every part of her radiated sex. The clammy scent of her athletic socks clung to her feet intoxicatingly as I kissed her arches and heels. Erin radiated an impatient hunger for me to progress, so I didn’t linger on her ankles long.

Behind her knee I discovered a warm place, which provoked a gulping moan when I kissed it. I wagered I would get an even better response when I moved over to the other knee, and swirled the little pit there with my tongue. Erin inhaled sharply at the sensation, followed by a speedy “oh fuck. ” Catching her off guard pleased me, and my ready smile said as much.

Next, I crawled up even with her thighs and paused there deciding what to do. Blue cotton panties still separated me from her moist sex, but lingering close I could take in her thick musk and tease her thinly covered mound with my hot breath. Slowly, I returned to her thighs and licked a thick trail down each, while resting my hand lightly on her pubic mound. I was careful to tease, rather then stimulate any of her sensitive areas, but still I could feel the shiver of her anticipation.

With a quick glance up I found Erin thumbing circles over her wide nipples. Not wanting to be upstaged, I gently pressed the hood of her clit forcing a powerful shudder and more choked expletives—I knew I had her undivided attention again.

For comic effect I withdrew and crawled up beside her on the bed. “You’re really horny all the time too?” I grinned mockingly as I looked down to her anguished face. I traced small teasing circles onto her leg with my cock and tried to look cute.

Abruptly, Erin reached down and seized my prick in a tight grip.

“Yes. I’m horny all the fucking the time,” she snapped. Erin loosened her grip some before continuing, “right now, you need to not be so fucking charming and make me cum. Take off my underwear and lick my pussy until I cum in your fucking mouth. ” This was my turn to be surprised, and Erin took obvious satisfaction in my stunned silence. Finally she softened, and her liquid brown eyes took on a pleading aspect as her lips formed into a pout. “Please baby, make me cum?”

I needed no more prodding as I crawled down and peeled off her soaked panties. I had resolved to bring Erin an orgasm of Wagnerian proportions. Crawling under her legs, I propped one over each shoulder for better access to her cleanly shaven sex. Leaning close I could see moist little beads of dew clinging to the full lips of her pussy. I didn’t have to look to know Erin’s eyes would be shut tight awaiting the coming storm.

Slowly I traced my thumb along the edge of her heavy outer lips pulling them open slightly. When I could feel her quick heartbeat within the swelling mound, I knew Erin was ready. Somehow Erin sensed it was coming as well, because she tightened her legs in time with my first probing lick. Erin released a deep low moan as I began a steady lapping rhythm with my tongue upon her inner folds. I longed to become fluent in the soft gasps and moans of my teen equal. Mastering that language would be the key to her untold pleasure, which I took as a solemn oath.

Her juices flowed freely into my mouth and down my chin, and I could scarcely contain the surprising volume. Erin’s taste was pleasant to me, and I sought to quicken the pace of my tongue. Her body was responding as hoped, and Erin gasped in time with my steady lapping.

Without knowing it, I had somewhat lifted Erin off of the bed and positioned myself beneath her so her back rested upon my lap. Her thighs hugged my neck a little tightly, but I would be able to see into her eyes when she came, and I wanted to know that face desperately. I spread her pussy wider, and stiffened my tongue as far as it would go. When my tongue seemed to reach the point of maximum penetration, I flicked it softly and moved my face in and out. It felt like I was fucking her with my mouth and the deeper I probed, the sharper Erin cried out.