Dee Does High SchoolChapter 9
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Dee Does High SchoolChapter 16 free porn video
At breakfast the next morning Mom was not happy and, after all I'd put her through, I felt terrible about it, but I was adamant.
Good word, "adamant." It has all those short "A" sounds, including the "dam" in the middle, coming to a full stop with that nice, hard, "T" at the end. It sounds like what it means -- stubborn, obstinate, unyielding. Thank you, Mr. Turner.
Unfortunately, Mom could be just as adamant as I was -- the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. Take your pick as to who was which.
Last night, after my nice, long, hot shower, my skin still damp, Mom and Elaine held me in their arms, keeping me "under observation," -- very, very close observation -- their bodies warm and comforting on either side of mine, skin to skin while I slept the sleep of the dead, safe in their embrace.
And now, here I was, fighting with my mom.
I tried to tell myself this wasn't really a fight, or even an argument, more of a discussion.
But I had to admit it was an argument. Not a heated one, we rarely had those, but both of us could be stubborn. We butted heads. I wanted to go to today's time trials, Mom didn't want me to, because, well, just because. She came up with one lame reason after another. It was like I was facing one of those machines that fires tennis balls. I was swatting those excuses back over the net as fast as they came at me.
Not being the biological parent, Elaine was a spectator, her eyes flicking back and forth between me and Mom like she really was watching a tennis match. She sat there, uncomfortable, finishing off her bacon, saying nothing.
I would not budge. Aside from the fact that my place on the team depended on the time trials, I was also desperate to keep my mind off what the future held for me. Tomorrow morning, Sunday, I was scheduled to give Sergeant Kelly my statement. I was not looking forward to revisiting my encounter with the Worm.
Then Monday morning I'd have to face my schoolmates. That threatened to be worse than facing them after my romp in the park. Shit. I just knew the rumors would be flying, probably already were. I bet every damn cell tower in town was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Did you hear what Dee Walker did?" And by Monday the tell-a-student grapevine would be seething with the news that Worthington had been hauled off in handcuffs, and that I was to blame. And can you imagine what they'll be saying about what I did to accomplish that?
I shuddered to think.
And as if that weren't enough, there was the first meeting of the "Save the Program Committee," as I'd come to think of it. Postpone it 'cause the Worm was unavailable? Fat chance. Mrs. Devers knew the iron was hot and she was going to strike. At least Heather Mac, as I had come to think of her, would take the point on that. Chair of that important committee would be the final jewel in the crown of her college application. At least I'd be able to sit in the background and doodle in my notebook while she ran the meetings.
The thought of moping around home all day today with those things looming over me was almost enough to spoil my breakfast.
But only almost. It was Mom's whole wheat waffles, after all.
"I am going to the time trials and I am going to swim! I am sorry, Mother, but this is something I have got to do!"
She knows when I drop all contractions, speaking slowly and distinctly, and call her Mother, I am dead serious. It is the closest thing I have to a nuclear option. In the mother/daughter arms race it ranks up there with when she calls me "Diane" or even "Diane Elizabeth," which she knows I hate. "Diane Elizabeth Walker" from her is thermonuclear. Should I ever contest any edict that follows it, vaporization would follow.
Obviously I've never tested it. I guess I'm too young to be trusted with the equivalent.
Fortunately she hadn't reached that stage yet. Before she did Elaine stepped in as peacemaker, putting a calming hand on each of us. I don't know what she whispered in Mom's ear, but I saw my mother begin to soften. Still toying with my brunch -- we'd slept really late -- I was pushing the last cold bite of waffle around to sop up drops of maple syrup and butter. I eyed Mom as she first shook her head, listened, sighed, and finally slumped as my hopes rose.
"Alright," she agreed. "You can go to the time trials..."
My heart started beating again and I almost felt dizzy. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.
"With two conditions," Mom went on, eyeing me very seriously.
"What are they?" I asked warily.
She held up one finger -- no, not THAT one! -- she is a lady, after all. "First, I go with you. I take you there, I wait and I watch -- I promise not to cheer too loudly -- and I bring you home as soon as they are over. I absolutely refuse to let you out of my sight today!"
I hesitated, Elaine patted my arm, and I nodded, actually feeling relief that Mom would be there. The idea that she'd be watching over me was like a warm, fuzzy blanket. I'd been so alone in Worthington's lair the thought of it still gave me cold chills.
"Don't you have a showing or something today?" I asked fearfully.
"I'm canceling it -- family emergency. I'll make it official when we're done here. Someone else can take it. This is more important than the commission for some damn suburban split-level."
That made me feel guilty, but good, too, that she'd do that for me. "Thank you," I barely whispered. "What's the other condition?"
"You and I sit down together with Ms. Andrews for a nice long talk as soon as she can fit us in. After Friday you have got to have some help, and I need to figure out what makes you tick."
I ran my fingers through my hair, still damp from a morning shower. I wasn't eager to give in on that one, afraid of letting people in on my secrets, especially my mom, the few that I had from her. But then I remembered Ms. Andrews and her warmth and patience and the support she'd given me during the whole Sex Ed thing last year, and it felt like a spring was being unwound inside me. What could it hurt? I heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay."
"May I come along? To the swimming, I mean," Elaine asked.
My gloom was lifting. Swimming is so totally distracting. "Okay. Yeah! Sure! But I wanna get there early."
I ate the last bite of my breakfast, relieved to see some of the worry lines fade from Mom's face.
"Then you'd better get moving," Elaine said, getting up to clear the table. "If I remember right, they start at one, and warm-ups before that. I'll take care of the kitchen, you go. I'll get there later. I have to take my own car. I'm on call."
We all got up and I was hugging Mom. "It's okay for her to come, isn't it?"
"Of course," Mom agreed, letting me go with a fond smile.
"Great!" I turned to my alternate Mom, as I thought of Elaine, and she had her arms open, too, and I clutched at her, just as tight, before dashing upstairs to grab my swimming bag, my heart singing. If it hadn't been for the safety belt I would have been bouncing around Mom's car like a demented jack rabbit. I felt like a kid again, for the first time in a week, maybe more. This being in high school was tough. She pulled into the school parking lot and before she'd locked the car I was dashing ahead, swinging my bag wildly.
Yanking the school doors open, then the doors to the locker room, I was engulfed in the smell of sweat and mildew, liniment, and shampoo, with a faint hint of chlorine. It was the scent of the gates to paradise.
Of course it was total bedlam -- girls from 5 to 18 dashing around in all different states of dress and undress, bare butts and boobies twinkling under the harsh fluorescent lights, a few moms trying to maintain order, the older kids generally more quietly trying to get changed. There was the chatter, the laughter, the screams, the excitement, the bragging, the worrying, lockers banging, towels snapping, toilets flushing, showers hissing, voices echoing off the tile as shrieking kids made their token dash through the spray before entering the pool area.
Here, with kids from a half-dozen different schools totally excited about the trials, I was just one of the crowd. I high-fived Gail Devers as I went for my locker before I remembered these trials were for the high school team, even though Coach opened them to everyone. It was a school function! Since I was still in The Program I was supposed to use the boy's locker room. I darted from the girls' locker room past Coach's office and into the boys', where the scent included a hint of testosterone. I was welcomed by a wave of whistles and shouts of "Dee, Dee, Dee!"
My mom's arrival via the same route was greeted by a sudden hush, a flutter of towels concealing groins. She'd tracked me down -- in the BOYS' locker room, much to the guys' surprise. She had definitely meant what she'd said about not letting me out of her sight! Suddenly self-conscious with her there, I found an empty locker and was out of my clothes in about a minute flat. Then I found myself holding my suit -- my brand new high school racing suit -- up in front of me, very much aware of all the boys and Mom watching me. The thought of putting on that suit, with its gussets and panels and what not that tried to turn me into a torpedo, made me stop in my tracks.
Of course, I couldn't wear it. The Program, remember?
In my mind, I flashed back to my time with Worthington, and for a moment I froze.
Shit! Get a grip on yourself, The Stick scolded me. Focus on the time trials!
I focused. Steeling myself, I stuffed everything in the locker and slammed it shut. The combination lock out of my bag took care of security.
Then I remembered and had to unlock it and get my towel out before I shut and locked it again, blushing the whole time, from head to toe. No, not because of my nudity! With embarrassment because, with everyone watching, I'd forgotten my towel. Go figure.
When I turned toward the showers I walked right into Greg, and I was so happy to see him I just leaped into his arms, wrapping my legs around him for a long, warm hug, never mind that Mom was watching my every move and the other guys whistling and teasing.
We didn't care. Greg cupped my ass and we were body to body, though he was wearing his racing suit. No more the skimpy Speedo, this was one of those skin-tight things, waist to knees on guys, all contoured to reduce drag, but he still felt good against me.
Finally I had to break the hug. "I need to shower."
"Would you like some help?"
"I'd love it," I admitted, shooting my mom an embarrassed look. She smiled, nodded, this didn't bother her. I think she understood what I was feeling, the warm, soothing sensation of Greg's loving embrace, the first little flicker of desire springing to life in me. His suit was visibly strained by his arousal.
No token shower this, not the usual quick rinse. We walked into the shower room with our arms around each other, and while Mom watched fondly from the doorway he lavished me with soap, starting with my hair and working his way down. Oh, it felt so good, his soapy hands slithering all over my naked skin. All I had to do was stand there and let him do the work.
I could have stood there all day, especially while his soapy fingers enjoyed my playground, but time was flying, so we couldn't really play. His equipment wasn't readily accessible anyway and Mom was right there in the door, holding my towel. So we rinsed off, bumping teasingly against each other under the spray, then with my hand in his I followed him out to the pool.
Mom trailed in our wake until Greg and I headed for the water, missiles on a mission and she peeled off for the bleachers, already filling with moms and dads, there to watch their kids compete for spots on the team.
I'd had three long, hot showers since nailing Worthington's worthless ass, but I didn't finally begin to start feeling clean until I slipped into the pool for a couple of warm-up laps. Greg was in the next lane, matching me stroke for stroke, a slow, easy pace. We were doing butterfly, our favorite and I still flowed through the water, but I felt heavy, sluggish, and I knew Greg was taking it easy. I didn't care, it felt so good to be back in the sweet water, feeling the chlorine neutralizing the last of the filth the Worm had left on me.
At the turn I went to my backstroke to stretch different muscles. At the start I'd felt like I could go on forever, but after two laps I was breathing hard, my muscles burning, so I stopped and slogged over to the ladder, and hauled myself out, sloshing on surprisingly weary legs to where Mom waited with my towel, Elaine beside her.
"Are you all right?" Elaine asked.
"Out of shape," I admitted panting a little. "Coach says the three elements of training --technique, strength and conditioning -- are like the three legs of a stool. I guess a couple of my legs are a bit short."
"Are you comfortable naked?" Elaine asked.
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm still in The Program, after all."
"I just thought..." She let her voice trail off.
I wasn't about to admit that I wasn't totally comfortable. I felt vulnerable in a way I never had before, which was stupid. I tried to tell myself nothing had changed, but I wrapped myself in my towel before I sat. With Mom and Elaine on one side, Greg on the other I felt safe and protected.
Coach always started with the little kids, 6 and under. Together we watched them splash their way down the pool on their 25-meter races, cheering them on. The youngest were not long out of the "tuber" class, and it showed. One five-year-old stopped halfway to hang onto the lane rope for a minute before pushing gamely on using a mix of dogpaddle and freestyle, arms barely breaking the surface, holding his face up out of the water. His mom was there at the finish to lift him out of the water -- his baggy suit showing half his pale butt before she wrapped him in a towel and gave him a big hug.
I always enjoyed watching the kids. Greg and I analyzed their strokes, tried to pick the winners and losers over the season. Even though the trials would take all afternoon this was home to me and I was determined to stick it out through the whole grind, subsisting on granola bars, right through Greg's and my races and beyond.
As before, when our turn came Coach put us in neighboring lanes. He cocked an eyebrow at my lack of a suit, but didn't say anything, just went through the starting routine. I was naked on the starting blocks again. Jeez, what a tangle of feelings. I was scared and horny all at the same time, wondering what I thought I was doing. I was incredibly aware of my nakedness, even after all the time I'd spent naked in public.
"Take your mark!"
I coiled myself for the start, unleashed my body with the sound of the starting horn, only just then remembering the first time I'd gone off the blocks naked, how it had hurt, and I clenched up defensively, botching my racing dive.
It made my nipples burn, but not as much as I remembered and the pain quickly faded as I did my usual underwater dolphin kicks before breaking the surface, my arms sweeping over in my butterfly stroke. The water swept over my flesh, swirling around my now hyper-sensitive nipples, teasing my pussy. I flowed sinuously through the cool liquid with dolphin-like grace, so the technique was still there. Unfortunately the strength sure wasn't. My arms began to tire fast, and the stamina evaporated during the second lap.
Shit, it had only been -- what? -- three weeks or a month since I'd won the county championships? Could a month with no training make that much difference? I watched Greg sail off into the sunset as I struggled to finish.
I was humiliated, and the less said about any of my other performances the better. Coach was shaking his head dolefully. Between races I took to leaning against Greg, depressed but comforted by his strength. To distract myself a plan for the rest of the day was gestating in my head. I finally screwed my courage up and asked him if he'd like to come home with me, at least for some supper.
He lit up. "I'd love to, but..." he pointed to his sister, up in the back row of the bleachers where I hadn't seen her. She was totally engrossed with some electronic gadget, virtually oblivious to the swimming. The locks of hair in her twin ponytails had gone from blue to day-glow orange since I'd last seen her. She'd filled out a bit, too, titty-bumps poking out her T shirt.
"I'm watching her over the weekend while mom and dad are out of town."
"Oh." I thought it over. I liked Drindy a lot, probably because she reminded me of me when I was her age. Well, she might put a crimp into my probably unrealistic hopes -- I wasn't sure how I felt about actually making love, after what the Worm had done to me -- but still, I'd be with Greg, which was what I really wanted. "She could come, too. Do you have to be at home with her? Can't you watch her at my place?"
He thought it over. The idea obviously appealed to him, especially given the reaction from his groin. "Is it okay with your mom?" he asked.
I leaned the other way. "Mom, can Greg and Drindy come home with me after, and spend the night? His parents are out of town and he's stuck watching her all weekend. He can watch her just as easy with us, can't he?"
Don't oversell it, The Stick cautioned me before I added something dumb like "it'd be safer than at their house just the two of them."
"I'll have to hear that from their parents," Mom insisted after a moment's thought, "and how does Drindy feel about it?"
I scrambled up the bleachers and when Greg's sister heard the plan she let out a squeal that triggered a mass false-start of the next race. Then she tried to squeeze the life out of me. When I looked down from the back row to give a thumbs up my mom was already on her cell. Greg must have pre-dialed the number for her. A few minutes later it was all cleared and we were on our way out of there.
So much for my vow to stay to the end of the time trials. The only things more boring than the 400 meter freestyle are the 800 and 1500, which, except for the start and finish, are like watching paint dry. Mom, Elaine and Drindy created minor consternation by following Greg and me into the almost empty boys' locker room, where Greg and I self consciously stripped, showered, and dressed, while Drindy giggled and played with someone's forgotten jock strap. Some of the older boys popped in, saw who was there, and the more modest popped out again, while others just took it in stride.
Then Greg and I cuddled in the back seat of Mom's car while Drindy rode shotgun and Elaine trailed along in her car. We had all no sooner made our way in the side door to the kitchen than Drindy, as irrepressible as ever, turned to Mom.
"Mrs. Walker, can we all get naked now?" she asked, her orange-streaked pony tails flipping mischievously.
I thought Mom's eyebrows were going to disappear into her hairline and reappear on the back of her neck.
"Drindy!" Greg gasped.
I gulped.
After a moment of stunned silence Elaine burst out laughing.
"Dee was just swimming naked in front of everybody," Drindy plowed on, oblivious to the glares she got from Greg and me, "and she's told me you're naked all the time at home, Mrs. Walker, and Dee and I and Greg got naked under the bushes one day, in the park by the library. So why can't we all go naked?"
Mom looked at me, her eyebrows having recovered from their disappearing act so she could cock one ominously.
"I -- uh -- guess I forgot to tell you about that," I confessed.
She regained control of her jaw. "Did you now."
It did not come out like a question.
"Uh -- it was sorta like an outreach thing from when I was doing the Sex Ed program, you know, with Carl and Beth, last year? We -- the three of us, Drindy and Greg and me -- had come out of the library after I returned my overdue book -- remember? -- and Drindy was complaining that she didn't know anything, so I thought maybe I should -- uh -- show her some stuff... ?"
I let my voice fade out before I said too much. I decided this would not be a good time to go into details about what I'd shown the girl, or to mention that Drindy and her brother had also witnessed my bitch-chasing-the-Frisbee performance in the park not all that long ago.
For a minute I thought I might have lit the "Diane Elizabeth Walker" fuse and braced myself for oblivion.
Elaine had choked her laughter down to snorts.
I'll grant you, Mom is made of stern stuff. Instead of blowing up she drew a deep breath, shot me a look that should have melted me right down into my shoes -- but I'm made of stern stuff, too -- then looked at Drindy more kindly, only her jumping jaw muscle betraying her tension. "Well, if that's what she said -- and I can't deny that we often do go naked here at home -- then if Greg thinks it is okay, I guess we could. What do you think, Greg?"
That was quick thinking on her part, but if she thought Greg was going to bail her out of this she should have known better. I'd corrupted him a long time ago, and after all, she'd seen me jump his bones at my last birthday party, where everyone had been naked, so it wasn't like everyone in the room didn't already know what was going on.
He cleared his throat and tried to look as if he were seriously contemplating the issue like a mature person, rather than the horny 15-year old he was. Finally he nodded with all the solemnity of Solomon deciding a case. "I -- uh -- don't see any harm in it," he concluded. "After all, it's not like its something we haven't all seen before, is it?"
Drindy didn't wait for second thoughts. She was out of her clothes in an instant, right there in the kitchen, and I had to admit I did appreciate her budding figure. She was an athlete, not tall and wiry, but very fit, with the legs of a soccer player and a maturing body. Her boobs were beginning to swell, already rivaling mine, softly rounded, tipped with small brown nipples. Her body, where her swim suit covered it, was very pale, compared to the coppery tone of the rest of her. A few wisps of black hair graced her pubes with its tantalizing crevice.
Without much success I sternly tried to tell myself that she did NOT look good enough to eat, and busied myself with more practical issues. "Gather up your clothes, Drindy, and bring them upstairs. Come on, Greg, let's get naked."
I closed the door of my room behind us, cutting off the laughter from downstairs, relieved that Mom was laughing almost as hard as Elaine. Drindy was holding her clothes, looking around my room. I was stifling my own giggles. I liked this girl!
"Drindy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Greg asked.
She gave us that wide eyed innocent look I'd used so often myself at that age. Well, okay, I still use it. "You coulda said 'no' ya know," she pointed out. "And besides, how'm I gonna learn anything without your help?"
"Wasn't under the bushes in the park enough?" I asked.
"No! Now, are you guys gonna get naked or not?" she challenged.
Greg sighed. "We might as well give in now," he told me, stripping off his shirt.
"I wanna watch you fuck. I couldn't see good at the party. It was dark, and I was clear down at the wrong end of the pool."
"You should have been locked in a closet," Greg growled.
"How did you let her live so long?" I asked, down to my skin, and appreciating the view of Greg's similar attire. My reaction quashed the worry I'd had that Worthington's disgusting performance had turned me off guys forever. Sure, I still wanted Drindy, and Missy, and Kathy, of course, but I really lusted after Greg, and judging by his beautiful hard on he felt the same way toward me.
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