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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Mall Rat by Radar (pt 1, 3 and 4) (inc teen, cons, not very explicit)
X-Original-Subject: REPOST: Mall Rat by Radar (pt 1-4, inc) teen, cons, not very explicit
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Another incomplete older story, for your reading pleasure and in the
hope someone has the missing parts...
Area: sex.stories
Msg#: 29312 Date: 02-12-93
09:06
From: An11377@anon.penet.fi Read: Yes
Replied: No
To: - Mark:
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 1)
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 1)
Reply-To: an11377@anon.penet.fi
[Victor: This is the story that I told you about. I haven't finished
it because I don't know where to go from here (writers block). I know
it's about kids (12 yr old and 15 year old), so don't show it to
Randall since he's squeamish about this sort of thing. Yeah, lot's of
references to my past days, etc :) What story wouldn't be complete
without some?]
[I still want to eat some Dim Sum ;) When do u want to get together
again?]
------------------------
WARNING: Contains hetro sex between minors. Lots of story before the
actual sex (but I haven't finished beyond part 4 as of yet). As soon
as I get past this writers block, I'll post some more.
------------------------
Control 'L' here.
"Mall Rat"
by Radar
Well, I always remember waaay back in my high school days of being a
classic "mall rat". I hung around Fashion Island mall (before it became
run down and nobody in their right mind would hang out there), looking for
ways to kill time and just look at all the people shopping ...
... and all the daughters that were with them.
Being 15 at the time, I always had the "older woman" syndrome, where my
fantasies were about anybody over 18 (though not much). Always thinking of
ideas on how to "bump" into them ... how to say anything to them. I
always was too scared to, though.
All of the kids hung around the ice skating rink in the mall. I
remember a lot of malls around the area having ice skating rinks. Always
wondered why also. But, in hanging around the rinks, I was always accosted
by the 13 year old girls. You know, the ones that have that same "older"
etc. syndrome. Their idea of older was 15-16 year olds. I could never
understand why me, but I could relate entirely. Hey, that was my idea of
"older" when I was 13 also. But, I had grew out of that, and the 13 year
old girls there were just bothering me more than anything else.
Well, I was at the rink on a Friday afternoon. For some reason, I had
arrived there before all the other guys that I hung around with were there.
Somewhere around 2:30 or so. We never arrived before 4pm because that's
when the "kiddies" were expected home by their oh-so-worried parents, and
us older teenagers had been home and escaped with a "I'll be back at
midnight or so ..." routine. Midnight-or-so always meant 3am or so. I
arrived early because there was an ice skater I had seen before that
practiced sometimes at the mall. She was supposed to be real good, and was
a student at Stanford. It was well known that she was trying for some sort
of competition or professional skating, and she always practiced at some
old skating rink in Redwood City, about 5-10 miles away because nobody went
there. All of the kids preferred the mall rink. But she sometimes came
here. And I would try, nonchalantly, of course, to watch her and watch her
style. She was good. Very good, as a matter of fact. Too good for me to
even _think_ of saying something to her. She had the type of confidence
around her that would deflate male egos like mine in less that 1 second
just by looking at you with those piercing eyes of hers.
I got off the bus at 2:30. Quickly walked from one end of the mall to
where the rink was, picking up an Orange Julius on the way. I rounded the
corner to the rink and ... I didn't see her in the rink. Not at all.
Shit, I thought to myself, she wasn't skating at the mall today. Well, I
thought, I have an hour and a half to kill and I don't feel like getting
back on the bus to hop home for a little bit...
I the saw her. She was on the other side. She was putting her shoes
on. She was late, since I knew that she usually got there after 1pm or so
(after classes, I thought). Well, I guess it's time to be a spectator, so
I settled down on one of the benches right in front of the rink and pulled
some books from my backpack to look like I was studying while I watched.
Today, she was in a jumpsuit instead of a typical performance costume.
She alternated back and forth, with all the fancy moves being performed in
the costume, and usually some practice moves in her jumpsuit. As I sat
down on the bench, she glided out onto the ice and started some lazy eights
out there. It didn't seem that she was going to put any effort into it
today, I thought, and I actually started to do some writing on an english
essay that was due next week. I was supposed to write an essay about how I
made friends and how I kept them, which seemed stupid, but the teacher said
that this is an object lesson on how to reach into your feelings about how
you see other people. Feelings? I thought. Heh, I had plenty of
feelings, but they weren't fit to be put on paper, much less talked about
with my of my friends.
"Hiii, Alex-an-dri-aaaa ..." said a familiar voice. I turned around to
see who it was. It was Carrie.
"Hi Care, or should I say, Carol-lineee ..." I snidely replied.
Yeah, that was my real name. Alexandria. A female name for a male.
Typical flower-child parents who decided they wanted a girl, and had picked
out her name. But when a boy arrived, they didn't give a shit and named me
Alexandria. What bullshit. And it was only this year that the goddam
school administration decided to change my records to reflect my "real"
name instead of Alex, which had been "corrected" by numerous school
secretaries thinking there must be some stupid mistake. No you assholes,
the mistake was when I was born ...
"Funny," she snapped back, "real fucking funny." For a 12 year old girl,
she sure had learned a "wide and deep" vocabulary already. Also a great
sense of sarcasm.
"The only thing funny is you." I said back, unable to think of anything
more witty at the time.
"Yeah, sure, whatever *you* say," she sliced back, with sarcasm just
dripping off of her teeth.
I started back on my essay thinking she'd head to the arcade behind me,
but she's been the type of person who always wanted attention. Any way she
could. It didn't occur to me at the time (being brain dead at that age,
for all practical intents and purposes) that she really just wanted
somebody to talk to, but since she thought that nobody essentially gave a
shit about anybody younger than 14 years old, she had to be a "bitch". A
classic one at that...
"Ahem," clearing her throat ...
"`May I Help You?'" I said in my best mimicking voice.
"Yeah," she started again, "_You_ need help."
"I take that as a compliment from an expert such as yourself?" I asked.
"I learned from the best, you know ... Yourself." she came right back.
"Takes one to know one," I said, again not thinking of anything better
to say.
"Oh gawd," she sighed, "What a winner."
"Look, Carrie," I started, "I want to get this shit done, so go on to
the arcade and go blow all of your two-dollars in allowance on Mizzz
Pac-Man and leave me alone."
"Oh, I'll leave you alone allright ... _All_ alone," she replied, and
she stormed off to the arcade.
Trying to bring my frustration back down to a somewhat sub-atomic level,
I discovered that the skater was getting off the ice and walking over to
the lockers. What? I thought, that was only 10 minutes. She must've
decided to go back home or school since she obviously wasn't into practice
at all today. Strange, I thought, because I also wasn't into the essay,
and so I stuffed it in my backpack, thought about going into the arcade
until I remember that Carrie was in there, then decided to call Dury.
"Hello?" said a familiar voice on the phone.
"Hiya Chun. It's Alex," I announced. Chun-Yang was Dury's girlfriend.
She was friendly, pretty, and taken. Some of our other friends always gave
Chun "the eye" but I always had a hands off policy when it came to other
girls who were going out with somebody else. Made life a hell of a lot
easier for me. Besides, *I* thought it added a nice touch to have some
female company with all of us guys at the mall here. I didn't have a
problem with it at all.
"Hi Alex. What'cha up to? You at the mall?" she asked.
"Yup," I answered. "Came a little early to see who was around."
"Yeah, a little too early I'd say" she mused. "Dury's in the shower
`cause his mom wants him to look halfway decent for a visit to their
counselor."
Ugh, I thought. The family psychologist his mom and dad are seeing.
Dury's parents had broken up, with his mom running off to god-knows-where
for a week after saying she couldn't put up with life anymore. Mid-life
crisis. Bleah! I'd been avoiding his place lately because of that.
Dury had to go along to the "therapy" sessions since the shrink decided
that the whole family needed to be "involved" in that whole affair. Dury
couldn't care less, as he saw this as a problem between his parents, and
why the hell should he be involved. Chun never said anything, though,
because as far as her parents were concerned, Dury didn't exist. They
would _never_ approve of _any_ boyfriends as it was, much less
red-hair-dyed boyfriends. Dury took to dying his hair kinda dark red after
seeing it in some Hong Kong fashion magazine Chun had been reading.
"He has to go tonite?" I asked.
"Yeah, he does. He's not looking forward to it at all. He wanted to go
to the mall with you guys. Hmmm..." she wondered.
"Do they have the usual late appointment?" I asked.
"Yup." she answered.
That meant 6pm at the earliest that he could make it.
"Are both of you gonna make it tonight?" I wondered myself.
"Uh, I'm not too sure if were gonna make it or not," she said. "We're
thinking of just spending some time here and watching Remington Steele."
Remington Steele was that new show on Channel 4, and Chun loved the show
... or was it she loved the guy on the show? ... Anyway, it was on at
10pm. I always wondered how she got away with being out of her parents
grip so late...
"What'cha gonna do now?" she continued.
"Might as well go home. No use staying around here if nobody's gonna
show up" I answered.
"OK. I'll have Dur call you when he get's back from the shrink. I'm
gonna go home and eat and then come back over after he gets out on parole."
she said. Chun had much classier wit than Carrie.
"OK. I'll be home" I said.
"Ok. I'll tell Dur you called." she replied.
"Thanks Chun," I replied. "See ya later."
"Bye," she said as she hung up the phone.
[End of Part 1]
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Area: sex.stories
Msg#: 29319 Date: 02-12-93
09:08
From: An11377@anon.penet.fi Read: Yes
Replied: No
To: - Mark:
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 3)
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 3)
Reply-To: an11377@anon.penet.fi
"What didn't?" she asked
"Oh, the TV series. Just like `Police Squad,'" I said.
"Oh shit!" she remembered, "I totally forgot about `Police Squad'!"
"You liked that one?" I was surprised. She liked Real Humor.
"Oh god, yea!" she really went on. "Did you watch it?"
"Religiously. It was on channel 7 on Thursdays?" I asked.
"Yep, that's the one," she answered. "That guy from `Airplane' is the
one who plays the detective ... what's his name ..."
"Leslie Nielsen," I butted in. I remembered him from all those Columbo
reruns that my mom watched.
"No, no, no, the detective's name. It was Frank Diedra. No, I
remember. Frank Drebin!"
"Yeah," I said, "That's the character's name. He played the same guy
just like in `Airplane'. Real serious and stupid. He always took
everything so goddam serious. I want to yell at him to wake the fuck up!"
She started laughing. I'd also never seen her laugh like that, like she
meant it rather than being a sarcastic laugh.
"I know, I know. I saw `Airplane' also. My favorite scene was when
when the `shit hit the fan'. I couldn't stop laughing at that one at all.
My mom used to say that all the time, like `when he gets home, the
shit's gonna hit the fan, you know'. I looked at my mom after that scene
and she looked just as serious as Frank Drebin!"
"Oh god, I know!" I laughed also. "Me and Dury and Chun saw it and Dury
missed the whole point of it, but me and Chun were laughing so hard we
couldn't explain it to Dury till after the movie. I don't think he got it
anyway."
"Heh heh, no shit" she said. "No, really, my favorite on `Police Squad'
was when that lab tech ... what's his name ..."
"Mr. Olson," she said.
"Yeah, Mr. Olson. He said `Timmy, don't forget to bring an article of
underwear out of your mother's dresser to bring next time'. God, what a
dirty old man," she said.
"Probably still a hell of a lot better than some of the pervs at Abbott
when I went there." I remembered.
"Oh god, are there!" she said, mockingly looking up at the sky. "Shit,
you don't know what the hell they have up their sleeve from one goddam day
to the next. They're always trying to get you to pick something up or bend
down if you have a dress on or a loose blouse. Shit, I dread having to
wear a dress to school at all."
"Oh god," I was laughing again. "I remember all that shit. Being
crazier than hell and wondering what the mystery was all about. Shit, if
I'd known about ... uhhh ..." I stopped, realizing that I'd really opened
my mouth up too much.
"`Uhhh' what?" she said, trying to pierce into my thoughts.
"Shit, I didn't mean, uh ... well, um ... you know."
"Know what?" She started in. She was almost on the verge of being a
brat again, and I had to remind myself of ...
"Wait," she all of a sudden said, stopping. "No, really Alex. Hey, I
really want to know. Really. I'm serious. I promise not to tell anybody
at all. You know ... I really don't want to tell anybody at all." She
hung her head down. "I really would keep it to myself. I ... I promise
you."
"You really would?" I questioned her.
"I would. You know ... this would be the first secret I ... that I've
shared with ... anybody," she slowly said.
"You really promise, Carrie? Really?" I asked one more time.
She grabbed my hand again and held her palm to mine.
"I promise with my heart, Alex. Honestly." she answered back.
"Well," I hesitated, "I guess so ..."
And I stared at her for a few seconds.
"It was, uh ... magazines." I admitted.
"`Playboy?'" she asked me.
"No," I responded. "`Penthouse'. I didn't like Playboy that much at
all."
"You don't? Why not?" she blurted.
"I, uh ... I don't know." I stammered.
"Oh," she quietly said. I think she didn't know what or how to ask
about this at all herself.
I realized where we were. We were a couple of houses away from Las
Plugas on Ventura when we stopped at a small apartment building. Probably
about 4 apartments or so. We just stood there and looked at the building.
Or I should say that she looked at the building first and then I looked at
it with her. She finally turned around to me.
"This is it. My place." she said.
"Oh. I see." I said, sounding a little down. "I didn't know we were
here already. You do live close by."
"Yeah, I do." she said, also low key.
I then had a reflexive motion where I bent over just slightly, like
having to go to the bathroom, which I all of a sudden had a real need to
do.
"Uh, hey! You need to use the bathroom?" she asked.
"Uhhh, well, I don't ..." I started to say.
"No, no, no! Com'on. My mom's not home yet," she said as she took my
hand again leading me up the driveway to the side of the building.
"She doesn't get off work till 5 and doesn't get home till 6 or so."
"Are you sure it's ok?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry. My mom would be more surprised to see
that I even had somebody to bring home than to care who you are." She had
already unlocked the door as I stood there holding the screen door open.
She motioned me in and I stepped inside. She then pointed in the direction
of the small hallway to what was obviously the bathroom. "That way," she
said.
"Ok," I said, heading in that direction. "I'll be out in a second."
I headed into the bathroom, closed the door, and I tried to figure out
how the lock worked, but couldn't and gave up. I only had to take a piss,
so I looked over my shoulder at the door while I aimed for the toilet.
Almost forgot to raise the toilet seat as I let go a long stream. It
wasn't as bad as I originally thought, and I looked at the mirror instead
to keep an eye on the door in case she decided to walk in for ... what
reason? Good question.
I shook the rest of the piss off, zipped up my pants and flushed the
toilet, again almost forgetting to lower the toilet seat. Always remember
the 11th Commandment, my mom said. `Thou shalt not leave raised thy toilet
seat'. And with an apartment full of women, the wrath of god would
especially come down on me.
I turned around and opened the door to the bathroom, and saw a bedroom
across the door, and I was surprised. Shocked was more like it. I could
totally ... relate!
It was a complete mess. A nuclear bomb site. A toxic waste dump.
I had to take a look at it for a second, more to be curious about who's
room it could be and know that somebody has a room that looks exactly like
mine at home. I looked around and saw a bunch of books, clothes, boxes,
papers, rolled posters, hung posters ...
"Oh god!" I exclaimed.
"What!" said a voice behind me. I wheeled right around.
"No, no, no ... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to be nosy or
anything. Not at ..." I babbled.
"It's ok ... Ok," she cut in. "Don't worry, it's my room."
"This!" surprised as I was. "This .. is .. your .. room?!?"
"Yup." she said. Then it hit her. "Oh shit, no! My room is a mess,
and you're here ... oh god, no!" She started going into her room.
"Nononono...slow down, I mean ... it's ok. I wasn't talking about your
room, not at all. No, no ..."
"Huh? Wha? What do you ya mean?" she asked.
"The poster ..." I said, pointing to the wall.
"Which poster?" she asked. She did have a few up on the wall. Like
Blondie, Kiss, Hall and Oates, and my favorite.
"Annabelle Llywen," I said.
"You mean `Bow Wow Wow?' You know of them?" she asked.
"Oh god, yes, of course. My favorite 14 year old." Oops, my mouth was
slipping again.
"She's 14!?!" Carrie asked surprisingly.
"Uhhh, well ... kinda" I slowly said.
"Allright! I didn't know that. You really like her?" she asked.
"Yeah, I, uh ... I do," I replied. "I've seen her on that music
channel on TV ..."
"MTV!" she interrupted.
"... Yeah, that's what it's called," I continued, "MTV. Anyway, she's
Burmese, you know. She's just fronting the band till she decides next on
what to do with her life, but I think she's cute ... uhhh ... I mean,
really cool, ya know."
"Oh, wow. You think she's cute?" she probed along.
"Uh, yeah. I think she's, um ... you know ..." I tried to say.
"Yeah? Go ahead," she said, seeing what my expression was. "No, I
mean, really, tell me. Hey, look, I promise not to say anything at all. I
mean, you're the only guy who's really paid any attention to me ever since
I can remember, and you're also the first guy who's ever seen my room also
..."
"Serious?" I asked, walking onto her room to look around. "You've never
had a guy here befor...SHIT!!!"
I slipped on something at that point. And as I started to fall
backwards, I tried to grab on something ... and it was Carrie that my hand
gripped onto. I was trying for her shoulder, but her sweatshirt was loose,
and I ended up grabbing the collar. This caused Carrie to lose her balance
as she was standing ontop of some old books and magazines, and we both went
right down onto the floor. Right ontop of some dirty clothes, which
fortunately cushioned my fall, but she fell ontop of me, and her arm caught
me ...
"ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!" I screamed.
... her arm caught me right in the balls.
"Whatwhatwhat!" she babbled. "What's wrong!?!"
She then started to get up, but she was shifting her weight to her arms
to get up, and this was putting more pressure right on ...
"My BALLS!!!" I screamed.
She looked around to discover where she had her arm.
"Oh, god!" she said. "No, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
Really, I am! I didn't know .. shit! Really, I didn't have any idea ..."
As she continued, the initial pain was subsiding and my initial anger at
her was rapidly disappearing because she was saying `sorry' so many times,
and I had never heard her be like that at all. My anger pretty much
disappeared as she poured out her apologies and I had only the physical
pain to deal with.
"Carrie, calm down. It's ok," I said, "It's ok. I know it was only an
accident. I'm not mad at you, really ... I'm not."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah, I am," I said, seeing her expression of bewilderment. "No,
really, I'm not kidding! Not at all. It was just a mistake, I know."
"Oh kay ..." she said meekly. "Well, let me get get ... up ... here"
she said, starting to put pressure on her arm again.
"Carrie, stop!" I said, a little loudly. "I mean ... here," as I put
my hands on her waist, "Let me help you up first."
I tried to move her but I didn't have any leverage on her waist, so I
moved my right hand underneath her arm to start moving her up, but I didn't
have enough room there either, so I ended up sort of on her back, where I
felt her bra. I didn't know she was wearing one already, I thought. I
then felt her weight on my arm as I started to move her up. I then felt
her bra shift a bit as I heaved her all the way up. I lost my grip and my
hand jerked up her back, taking her sweatshirt up along with it. Instead
of feeling her bra strap, I glanced down and saw the back of her bra, along
with the top of her white panties peeking out of her jeans.
"Oops, sorry about that." I apologized.
"About wha ...?" she had started as she turned around to look at me and
saw that her sweatshirt had creeped up to show a bit more of herself than
she realized. She looked embarrassed as she tried to stand up, but she
lost her footing as she slipped on something again. I was half watching
her trying to get up and saw this coming, but the only way to grab her
again was to literally reach around her waist and grab her bodily. Since
her sweatshirt was halfway up already, I ended up doing the grabbing
underneath the shirt. What little of her bra that was being covered was
rapidly uncovered and I ended up holding her in a classic bear hug, with
her breasts right against my chest. Not exactly the situation I expected
to be in when I saw her getting on the bus an hour ago.
[End of Part 3]
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Area: sex.stories
Msg#: 29320 Date: 02-12-93
09:09
From: An11377@anon.penet.fi Read: Yes
Replied: No
To: - Mark:
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 4)
Subj: STORY: Mall Rat (Part 4)
Reply-To: an11377@anon.penet.fi
"Oh shit ... I'm sorry, I uh .." I stammered again, clearly nervous.
"Oh god," she said, "I don't believe it!"
"Believe ... what?" I was still stammering.
"You're so nervous!" she said.
"No, I'm not!" I retorted.
"No? You're not?" she asked, "Just watch."
Carrie then backed away from me. As she back away from me, she took her
hands to her sweatshirt to bring it back down, or so I thought, but she
held up her sweatshirt instead. I was very nervous by this point and
starting to feel sweat form on my forehead. Carrie had backed off only a
foot and took her sweatshirt off of her in one quick motion. She was then
sitting there with her bra and jeans, looking extremely defiant and
confidant. Way too confidant to me...
"C..C..Carrie," I started, "What are you d--doing?"
"Making you squirm!" she answered.
She had not stopped and was starting to lean back as she brought her
hands to the top of her jeans. As she rested her back against her bed, she
started fingering with the buttons on her jeans and started to unsnap the
first one ...
"No ..." I said.
... and then the second one and then the third and ...
"Shit!" I said as I bolted up off the floor and headed out of her room.
I didn't even know how fast I was running until I literally ran right over
the coffee table in the living room, right back onto the floor. I heard
the running of her feet also her cries at the same time.
"Alex!!!" she was screaming, "No! I'm sorrrryyy ...!!!"
She stopped as soon as she saw me trying to scramble up from the fall,
but this time, I really had hurt something and I let out a yelp of pain
when stood up.
"Alex! Shit!!" Carrie said as she came over to me to help me down onto
the couch. I felt a bit of pain, but not the searing pain from a broken
bone that I've felt before. It's probably just a bad sprang, I thought.
Carrie had brought her arm around me and was helping me down onto her
couch. I reached to my shoe to take it off and see how bad the swelling was
going to be. After a few `ughs' and `ows' I got the tennis shoe off and
then the sock. It didn't look that bad.
"Alex ...?" Carrie said, bring me back to what had just happened.
"Hm? I responded.
"Alex ... Are you mad at me?"
"Shit," I exclaimed, "I'm in too much pain right now ...!"
I was rubbing my foot.
"Here," she said, moving onto the floor and towards my foot. "Let me do
that for you. Please?"
"Look, ugh ... shit. Ok, go ahead."
She then placed her hands gently on my foot and started a slow caressing
on the ankle. She rubbed with her thumb and forefinger very slowly. She
was actually doing a pretty good job of relaxing my foot, and myself at the
same time. I had leaned back on the couch and just stared at her caressing
my foot. I finally had relaxed enough to start talking again.
"Carrie?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you do that in, uh ... the bedroom?"
She slowed a little as she was thinking for a second, then she stopped
and looked directly at me. She kinda looked lost .. or sad. Or both.
"Alex, I don't know where to start ..." she said.
I wasn't nervous anymore, so I decided to probe ahead, especially since
I was curious about what she had to say.
"It's ok .." I said softly.
"Well," she started, "You know, nobody's every really talked to me, paid
attention to me, or said any of the things you've said to me because I'm
always thought of as the brat. You know, `Oh, she's 12, so she's probably
some stupid bitch' or something like that. Nobody gives me a break or
anything. You were the first one who really seemed to be interested. You
were the first one who really talked to me, so I thought the only way for
you to pay attention to me was toooo ... well ..."
"... take off your clothes?" I finished.
"Yeah, well, I don't know what to do. I've never done anything with a
guy, and I read in the books that girls do things like that and makes the
guys like them and, well ... you know."
"Hmmm," I said.
"You know ..." she started up again, "I've never held another guy's
hand, or ... kissed one. And, uh ... something else."
"What?" I asked.
"Well, I don't know how to say this or what ..."
I was very curious. "Go ahead," I said softly, "I want to know."
"I, uh .. I have ... had a dream. A really weird dream, and I want to
tell you about it, because ..." she trailed off.
"Because what?" I being bold and extremely curious.
"Because it was about ... you," she said so softly.
"Me?" I was surprised. "Really?!?"
She looked at my surprised face.
"Yea! It was. It was about you and ... uh ..."
"Me and who?" I asked.
"You and ... me," she finally said.
"You really had a dream about me?" still in surprise.
"Yes, I did."
"What was it about?" I asked. I had to know!
"Well, I'll tell if you will do something for me." she said.
I was thinking, what could she ask? She really looked like she wanted
to tell me anyway, so I thought it wouldn't be that bad. I charged ahead.
"I'll do it," I agreed. "What is it?"
"Just do what I say for a second. Ok?" she asked.
"Sure, sure. Ok," I was anxious.
"Close your eyes and keep them shut, OK? Please?" she pleaded.
"Ok," I said, closing my eyes, "I'll keep them shut tight."
"Good," she said so softly.
I felt her move around the couch. I was wondering if she was going to
take the rest of her clothes off again, but I didn't hear any of those
familiar sounds. Actually, I wasn't hearing anything at all, but I still
felt the couch move just a little. Then total silence. I wondered, did
she leave?
"Carrie?" I asked.
"Shhhh," she admonished me.
I then sat in silence again. I was wondering, was she just staring at
me, or making some sort of face at me, or flipping me off, or what?!? I
was almost sure she was about to take some sort of revenge out on me for
all the shit I did to her in these past years and all the talk on the bus
and such was a big trap to lure me into her apartment to ...
And I had a feeling of some sort all of a sudden. A presence very near
me. Like somebody was very close to me. No! I thought, she gonna ...
When I felt her tongue swipe across my lips, I instinctively opened my
eyes and looked at her. She was right in front of my face. She had no
idea my eyes were open because her eyes were closed. She took another
swipe across my lips again. Then she pressed her lips against mine. I
felt her lips open up, trying to invite mine to open with hers. My mind
was in confusion again, and again it was only a second before I decided
what to do.
I closed my eyes. And opened my mouth.
As soon as I opened my lips, she pushed her tongue right inside my
mouth. Her tongue was looking for mine. Wondering where it was. I let it
look for only a second, though, before I met hers with mine. As soon as
she found my tongue, she pressed closer to me and opened her mouth up as
wide as she could. She slowly brought up her arms around my neck and
squeezed them in a frenzied move to get in closer with me. Closer to
intertwine our tongues together, trying not to let go at all. Trying to
become one...
She was breathing heavy, I felt. She was so, how could I say, so
willing and so much wanting. Still trying to get even closer, even though
there was no way to get closer to me. She was redefining the phrase
`lip-lock' with my lips. Her lips. Ours.
She finally started to back off her tongue. Sending a signal to me that
she wanted a break. She brought back her tongue and then started to close
her mouth just a little. I then leaned back a little, slowly separating
our lips apart. With an inch distance between our lips, I returned the
favor and gave a couple of swipes across her lips. One swipe on the top
lip and one on the bottom, followed by a small peck again on each lip.
Then I saw her open up her eyes, very slowly. So slowly.
She was glassy-eyed. Very far away. Beyond the Twilight Zone.
[End of Part 4]
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