Living Next Door to Heaven 2Introduction to Part IX Heaven s Gate
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Living Next Door To Heaven 1100: Game On! free porn video
We were discreet and tried not to make too much noise, but Nicki was pretty demanding that night.
"I love all of you," she whispered to me. "But we were in that tiny room with everyone practically on top of each other and they all wanted to kill me. I know that's the crazy talking. I took my pill. I just wanted to kill everyone. Brian, make it go away!"
We left all the rest of the girls on the foam mattresses on the floor and I took Nicki to bed. I was kissing my way down her body to her wide-spread legs when the bed shifted. I glanced up to see Liz next to us.
"I'm here, girlfriend," Liz whispered. "You can hold my hand while he works his magic if you want." Nicki grabbed Liz's offered hand. She was breathing fast. "I wish I could help you. I will if you really want me to," Liz said. "I just don't think you get anything out of having a girl touch you and I sure don't. But I'm your friend, Nicolette Duval. You can grab hold of me any time. I'm your friend."
Nicki rolled her head toward Liz and pulled their hands to her mouth as she mounted toward her orgasm. I swear she practically came off the bed as I licked her and then kept licking. She didn't come down from the first before she launched into the second and then faded, whimpering. I crawled up her body and kissed her softly. Then I lifted my lips to Liz. She kissed me.
"Tomorrow for me?" she whispered. I nodded. "You should go back to the rest of our hearthmates now. We'll be okay."
Wow! Liz and Nicki had really developed a strong friendship. The bikes weren't just a fluke.
I'd been drafted by my cheerleader girlfriends to do a homecoming hoop for the last game of the season. Brenda had achieved her life-long ambition and was head cheerleader. It's funny. Cheering was a passion for Brenda. For Rose it was something fun to do. I could see the gleam in Lexi's eye when she talked about cheer. If at all possible, she'd follow in Brenda's footsteps. But Brenda wanted something different than the flaming hoop that had been Renee's idea. She wanted to make her own mark and she had a captive chemist to put it together for her.
I did some research at the university and my professor was very helpful. He even suggested that I have Mr. Johnson, the high school chemistry teacher, order the components for me. They were readily available from Edmunds Scientific. It was easy. Dark pyro aluminum powder and potassium perchlorate. Mr. J. wanted to know how I was going to handle mixing and igniting the mixture, of course. You can't just lean over and light a match. Not if you want to keep your hands and your eyes and other valuable body parts. We rigged a pressure switch with a power strip surge protector in front of it. For a tray, I went down to Honnecker's Carpet Company and got a carpet tube. Cut in half it made a perfect tray and we could pour a fine bead of the aluminum powder in it and a measured amount of perchlorate over the top of it and then rock the tube back and forth gently to mix it. Mr. J bought plenty of both chemicals and we did a test on the track after basketball practice one evening.
People were all wondering what was going on when the cheerleaders came out without the hoop and paper we'd used the past few years. When the girls took their places several yards away from the flash pot, people were trying to figure out what was going on. Then the announcer said the magic words. "Ladies and gentlemen, the St. Joe Valley Trojans!" I hit the switch. It went boom. A sheet of flame and smoke went up from the tray and by the time it was clear, Jackson was leading the varsity football team through the smoke and onto the field. People went wild. I wondered who the heck was going to be the cheerleaders' geek next year.
We won the game and I took Rose to the dance after. She was beautiful, but neither Brenda nor Rose ran for homecoming queen. Both decided they had all the honors they wanted at home. After the crowning and big dance, we all left. Ms. Hammer wasn't there to remind us that there was no readmission.
Football homecoming was Friday night and our first basketball game was on Saturday afternoon. It was an exhibition game. The season didn't start for another week, but we met South Whitley as if it was the state final. Josh, Bert, and I at guards were the only ones on the team under six feet tall. Our forwards mastered the boards and Lionel showed that his brother wasn't the only legend that was going to come out of Triton.
Coach Hancock was different than Coach Mitchell in a lot of ways, but not the least was how he played us. He honestly believed that if you were good enough to play varsity basketball then you were first string. There was never an idea that if you started a game that you were better than anyone else. Even in our practices, we played with vests to show who was on which team. If you were playing on the yellow team, when you came off the court, you switched to a blue vest. The next time you went in, you were on the blue team. If he saw that you weren't well-coordinated with a particular teammate, instead of pairing you with someone you did work well with, Coach made you keep playing with that teammate until you got your acts together.
In a game, he substituted a player at every buzzer. He'd tap me on the shoulder, for example, and say "Josh, next buzzer." I'd run to the scorekeepers, report in, and when the next buzzer sounded, I'd run onto the floor and wave Josh off. This accomplished three things. First, we all stayed fresh. When you came off the court, seven other guys would go in before you were called again. Second, it kept us alert. We had to keep track of what was going on all the time. We couldn't just go to sleep on the bench or let our minds wander. And third, it confused the bejeezus out of our opponents. I couldn't believe it when Coach tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Barry, next buzzer." At five-five, I was still the shortest guy on the team and I was going in for a forward who was a foot taller than me. But coach drilled us on playing with three, four, and even five guards. Or everyone at forward. Opposing teams had no idea what to do with us. Suddenly, a forward from the opponents had to come out from under the basket to guard me or we'd have three guys working the ball in the backcourt with only two guards trying to play us. And you should have seen the confusion on their guards' faces when we threw four forwards and a center under the basket and left no one in the backcourt. Well, it sure worked against South Whitley.
There was one awkward point. Of seven cousins who played basketball, six had made the varsity squad, including sophomore Rich and junior George. That left only Geoff back in JV. He went to Coach Hancock and told him that he really didn't have his heart in playing basketball because he liked baseball so much. He asked the coach if instead of playing JV he could manage the varsity team. I think Coach recognized part of the problem and agreed. Team manager is a pretty crappy position. Sounds glorious, but isn't. He does the laundry, makes sure there's fresh towels in the locker room, and washes the uniforms after a game. He also makes sure we have marked practice balls in a canvas bag for warming up, has a game ball ready for each home game and a spare for each away game. He has to make sure they're all inflated exactly right. Then he has water for us when we come off the court, towels on the bench, and makes notes for Coach during practice or the game. If a player is injured, the team manager is the first one on the floor, and the last one to leave after he's wiped up the sweat off the hardwood.
Suffice it to say that Geoff was the most respected and well-treated team manager that St. Joe Valley had ever seen. And being our team manager meant that he traveled with us, not with the JV.
"Geoff, how's it working out, buddy?" I asked as we rode home together after the game.
"So far, so good, Bri. I think I've got it easier than any team manager before me," he laughed.
"I'm sorry you're not playing, but I think you're doing a better job than any team manager before you. How are things with Robyn?" I asked. Might as well get it on the table.
"It's good. I know what you're thinking. I'm taking advantage of her because she wants to stay a virgin and I'm the last guy who would want to take her virginity. Just so you know, I told her. She was thrilled."
"Really?"
"She's always wanted a gay friend," he laughed. Damn, it was good to hear him so light-hearted. He'd been pretty depressed when Sora started hanging out with me.
"She doesn't think she can, like, change you, does she?"
"No, I don't think so. She knows that changing me would mean losing her virginity. She's really paranoid about that. But she's a neat girl, Brian. I like her and I respect her. I think we'll be friends for a long time."
"You know, you can be compañera without belonging to a casa."
"I think we'll look at that a little further down the line," he said. "Nobody expects us to have that kind of relationship a week after she joined the clan."
I was satisfied.
Sunday morning I woke up alone. That was more and more unusual these days. Whitney and I went out Saturday night, had a great time talking about our basketball teams and then she invited me to her house where we made sweet-sweet love for a couple hours. I just never get tired of her long, lean body and feeling her muscles rippling under me and around me. I remember reading in one of the Dune books a description of a woman who 'could kill with any muscle in her body.' I was sure he was describing Whitney. From my fairy queen friend of fifth grade to my martial arts master to my sensuous lover, Whitney and I had grown and changed over the years but in all had only grown closer.
When her mom and Dave got home from their evening out, Whitney and I sat around and talked with them for a while. It was obvious that I wasn't invited to spend the night, so I kissed Whitney lovingly on her doorstep and went home. It was one o'clock and the girls were already asleep so I just went upstairs and went to bed.
I woke up with the images of a very intense dream still floating in front of my eyes. Rhonda's deep green eyes as we made love. I could feel her wrapping me in her arms and whispering, 'I still love you.' It was almost enough to make me weep and I tried to hold the image in my mind for as long as I could. I love you, honey. I love you and I will never give up on having you with me.
I went downstairs and made up bread dough. There were two activities that could always calm and settle my mind—making bread and brushing horses. I looked out the kitchen window and could see frost on the ground. The horses wouldn't mind staying in their nice warm stalls for a while. At least until after sunrise. I put a dishtowel over the bread bowl and left it on the counter with thoughts of all kinds whirling through my mind. Chemistry, cooking, horses, girls, basketball, classes, English lit, girls. There was so much going on in my life. I needed to focus on something. Girls.
I poked my head into Jennifer and Courtney's room, thinking I'd just give them some loving. They were so sweet together. I still didn't think they often had sex with each other. Both were enthusiastically heterosexual most of the time. But they loved each other. It's one of those weird things where love is beyond sex. Maybe like Doug and Doreen. I thought I might call her this afternoon. What I saw in front of me, though, gave me other thoughts. Like me, the girls usually slept nude. They were facing each other and somehow their blanket had shifted so that Jennifer's round little ass was sticking out. I started to get hard just looking at her. On my fourteenth birthday, she'd crawled naked into my sleeping bag at the dude ranch. I had no idea at the time how frightened she'd been ... and how brave.
"Jennifer," I whispered in her ear as I petted her bare bottom. "Little Girl Scout, wake up." She shook her head slightly and pushed her bottom more firmly into my hand. I put little kisses along her neck and jaw and she turned to look at me. "Get up, my little Girl Scout. It's time for you to come to my room." Her eyes popped open wide and her breath caught. She glanced toward Courtney and I shook my head. I stood back and held out my hand to her. Jen had come from deep sleep to aroused and almost panicked wakefulness in an instant. She took my hand and I led her to the stairs. She was doing pretty well with her physical therapy and although she still took the crutches when she went out or to school, she walked without them in the house. I let her lead me at her own pace up the stairs staring at that beautiful behind and breathing in her scent.
"Now, Brian?" she asked when we were both in my room. I nodded. "May I use the potty first?" I smiled and held the door open for her. I stood in the open door watching her as she tinkled in the pot. She watched me as I removed my clothes. I stepped in front of her and she took me in her mouth until I was as hard as I could get. Then I stepped back and she blotted herself dry. We washed our hands and I led her to my bed. "Is this my punishment, Brian?" Tears were leaking from her eyes and her breath was coming in little gasps.
"Little Girl Scout, we can forget this game and say it's over and just make love if you want. We've had our fun with it."
"No! I've spent three months thinking about how one day you were going to bend me over your lap and I'd wait for that one smack. I've come dozens of times thinking about it. You love me, don't you, Brian?"
"I love you more than the world, Jennifer."
"Maybe we won't do this again," she whispered. "But please, don't make me wait any longer."
"Today is your lucky day." I sat on the bed. She stood facing me, her breasts heaving, her legs parted slightly. I could see her juices already escaping from her pussy lips and could smell her aroma. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Brian, my lover, my cónyuge, I give you explicit permission to touch me in any way you desire. I give you permission to caress me, to suck me, to penetrate me in any opening." That was new. Jennifer liked having her asshole played with when we were making love, but as far as I knew she'd never allowed anything to penetrate it. "And while I am laid naked across your bare lap and hard cock, I give you permission ... no, I beg you, please ... to give me one ... hard ... smack on my bare bottom." Jen caught her breath and I thought she might have just had an orgasm while giving me her permission. Her scent was the strongest I'd ever smelled from her. Pre-come was dribbling out the head of my cock just from watching and listening to her. I motioned her toward me and after a moment of testing the strength of her leg to support her as she bent over me, she settled across my lap with my cock trapped against our stomachs. "My mouth is yours. My breasts are yours. My pussy is yours. My bottom is yours. My cónyuge, I am yours," she whispered.
She jumped when I laid my hand softly on her derriere. I petted her and ran my hand all the way up her back to her shoulders, pushing her hair aside as she moaned against me. My left hand slipped under her and traced circles around her nipples. Jen was hunching back and forth and up and down against me as best she could in this position. When I pinched a nipple, she came. It wasn't a huge orgasm, but she was so on the edge that she couldn't wait. I ran my right hand down her back and returned to her butt, parting her cheeks so I could continue past her tailbone, brushing against her asshole as I dipped down into her wet, hot pussy. When I reached her clit, her next orgasm was more intense and louder. She slapped her own hand against her mouth. I grabbed one of my pillows and handed it to her and she screamed into it. There was a flood of juice flowing from her pussy and even my thigh was being soaked.
"I love you, Jennifer," I said softly. "I think I've loved you since the moment you fell into my arms from Jubal's back. Before you even crawled into my sleeping bag like a naughty, naked little Girl Scout." My finger was moving in and out of her steamy pussy as I spoke. "I've loved all the little games we've played. I love that you brought Courtney into my life. I love touching your breasts and your bottom and your pussy. I love kissing you. I love hearing you moan. Jennifer, I love you to the depth of my soul." I flicked her clit once and she started to come again. That's when I pulled my hand back and landed a sound smack on her right butt cheek.
The pillow was forgotten. Jennifer arched her back and let out such a piercing scream that I was sure it woke everyone in the house up. I sank my finger back into her pussy to get it good and wet and then pushed it into her asshole. Her scream continued. Then she was pushing up and turning to face me to straddle me. I barely got a condom on my cock before she slammed down on me, screaming out another orgasm. I supported most of her weight with my hands on her butt as she worked on rising and falling on me again, throwing her head from side to side as she continued to wail. Tears were flowing from her eyes and she could only inhale to scream again. The action on my cock was more than I could take and I started pumping. That just set Jennifer off again only this time she sucked in breath like she couldn't get enough to fill her lungs and then slumped forward on me, unconscious.
"Holy shit!" Courtney said from the top of the stairs. I did some shuffling and got Jennifer and I fully on the bed so I could lie back with her stretched out on top of me. My cock was still firmly in her pussy and I was still hard enough that I wasn't going anyplace. I heard voices downstairs. "It's okay, Moms," Courtney called down the stairs. "Jennifer just had a dream ... come true." She giggled a little and joined us on the bed as Jennifer began to stir.
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