index


Message-ID: <47677asstr$1083478202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Reply-To: katzmarek@excite.com
From: "Katzmarek" <katzmarek@excite.com>
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} Opening The Box (Part 7) By Katzmarek (mf,mf,rom,teen)
Lines: 813
Date: Sun,  2 May 2004 02:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




_______________________________________________
Join Excite! - http://www.excite.com
The most personalized portal on the Web!

<1st attachment, "Opening The Box7.txt" begin>

OPENING THE BOX (Part 7)


By KATZMAREK


---------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It remains the property of the
author and may not be reproduced for profit without the author's
express permission.


----------------------------------------------------------------


As Summer wound on into new year in the Southern Hemisphere, the
kids found more and more time to hang out down by the river.
Justin had bought Angela a new swimsuit. They had gone shopping
together and he'd insisted on checking out some of the ritzier
boutiques. There she'd found the designer string thing that
barely covered the illegal parts.


It was a swimsuit for the beach or riverbank, not for the water.
It wouldn't last ten seconds in a river current or the surf.
Justin enjoyed watching Angela parade around in it. She, in turn,
liked Justin watching her also. She liked his smouldering sexy
stare, it aroused her and made her feel possessed. She decided
she liked the feeling.


For Angela, although only just 16, had never experienced such an
intensity of emotion that she had with Justin. It was as if their
egos had become completely merged. Normally her loss of emotional
independence would create a claustrophobia. In this case, she had
a feeling that somehow the heavenly bodies had all lined up for
her benefit. It was not only meant to be, but inevitable.


Justin and Angela had found 'their' spot. One Friday night they
had gone there to make love and had 'christened' the place. It
was near a popular swimming spot where lots of kids from their
school hung out. It was also well away from where they were
likely to run into Chrissie Benmore.


Chrissie didn't like the big public places in any case. She also
didn't care much for water. It suited Justin fine.


She also didn't like clothes that drew attention to her big
boobs. She much preferred baggy shapeless tops that disguised her
assets. Many a boy had been 'burned off' after talking to her
chest.


Her only exception was Justin, it had always been Justin since
she was a little girl. She liked his attention, although he could
be a little 'inappropriate' at times. She enjoyed accompanying
him, usually to the movies, and walking down the street holding
hands. He took her to fancy restaurants using his own credit
card. It made her feel special.


They talked on the phone every day. *He'd* normally call *her*
because he could afford the bill. She'd ask his advice, on
school, on life. They never discussed Angela, though she knew he
was still seeing her. They'd tiptoe around the subject before
drifting onto something safer. Chrissie *knew* they were 'meant
to be.' He only needed time to work Angela out of his system.
Time, she reluctantly gave him because it was only a drop in the
bucket compared to the rest of their lives.


She continued to deceive her Mother. Sharon remained adamantly
opposed to any relationship between her daughter and Justin. It
went beyond mere disapproval of her choice in boyfriends. Her
Mother made it clear Chrissie was to have nothing at all to do
with Justin. 'Nothing' meant, to see, hear or speak his name. Her
mother had even gone to the extent of seducing him practically
under her nose. To prove, apparently, just what a slut he really
was.


Her Mother's implacability, however, had only sharpened her
desire for him. Although not naturally rebellious, nevertheless
she relished the intrigue and the danger of her 'secret' affair.


She *knew* him like no-one else, not even Angela, nor her Mother.
Of this she was certain. He was no slut, merely obliging. Women
could get him to do anything they wanted. Over time, she
reasoned, she would cure him of this trait. Then they would have
a life of wealth and privilege, tennis clubs and afternoon
soiree's. The cloth, though, always threaded with love.


Angela and Justin lay on their tummys sunbathing. He'd spread
lotion on her, his fingers wandering to her disapproving look. It
didn't, however, bother her too much. She played 'slip a nip.'
Whispering, 'hey' she'd flip out her tit quickly while Justin
grinned. He'd play, 'slip a tip' in return, poking the head of
his dick out from under the elastic of his trunks. They pushed
and poked each other giggling like naughty children. To Angela,
the day was going to be perfect.


For tonight Angela was going to be allowed to stay with Justin
all night. Her parents had reached the stage where they thought
they could trust this charming young man. He hadn't broken their
rules during the dating of their daughter, had always been polite
to them and almost become one of the family. They were realistic
about Angela having sex with Justin. They weren't going to stop
her so they might as well trust them and ensure they were safe.
They considered themselves 'modern' parents.


Angela had long prepared what she'd planned to take in her
overnight bag. She was excited over this 'new ground.' They were
to share his bed together all night, have breakfast in bed,
shower together. But above all they could make love as often and
as long as they wanted without any pressure of time. All with her
parents blessing. She couldn't be happier.


As the sun waned they packed up and made their way back to the
car. On the way to Justin's, Angela rested her hand contentedly
on his thigh. Leaning towards him she placed her cheek on his
shoulder until it grew uncomfortable. He smiled and tickled her
between the legs.


Dinner had been prepared and was waiting for them in the warmer.
They sat at the large dining table, thigh to thigh and kissing
between mouthfulls. The tension rapidly built up between them and
by mutual agreement, grabbed their hot chocolates and ran up the
stairs.


Their first bout of love-making was fast and furious.
Anticipation had grown throughout the day for this moment and
Justin was unusually desperate. They were naked and rolling
around the bed within seconds of crashing, giggling through the
door. Angela was well-ready to receive him almost immediately and
he was a lot faster and rougher than usual. To her surprise,
Angela loved it and came quickly and powerfully. She looked him
squarely in the face when she came, as Justin liked, and called
his name. She was rewarded by his spasming cock, his grunting and
growling during his release.


"Oh come baby," she wailed, "fill me!"


She'd discovered that Justin liked her to cry things like that to
him as he came.


It was too perfect, she thought later as they cuddled and
stroked. The only dark smudge in her life at the moment was
Chrissie Benmore. She knew she'd have to deal with that 'problem'
some time. But not yet, not tonight, she didn't want to spoil
things.


Angela had that ability to ignore things she didn't want to have
to deal with. Sometimes it worked and the issue faded. At other
times the problem grew and threatened to overwhelm her. She was
confident, however, that she always won out in the end.


She suspected for some time that Justin was seeing Chrissie on
the side. There were too many clues for her to ignore. The
Saturday nights that were 'his' time. He was always vague about
what he did or where he went. Not so vague, however, was the
gossip. His car had been seen here and there. Someone had seen
him at the cinema with a girl that looked like Chrissie. They
were holding hands, and so it went on.


It angered her when she heard such stories but she held her head
up and told the informer she knew all about it. They were, she
told them, just good friends who'd known each other since
childhood. She let it slip that she thought Chrissie was gay
anyway. Since no-one was aware of any of Chrissie's past
boyfriends, the story caught on quickly. For the moment, her
friends were satisfied with the explanation.


But Angela knew it was a lie. Her and Chrissie had been close
friends once. Angela had moved away when she was ten, and
Chrissie nine, as her family fortune increased and they could
afford a nicer neighbourhood. She knew Chrissie had held a torch
for Justin as a gawky kid.


She couldn't understand what Justin could see in Chrissie. Sure
she had nice tits, but her arse was too large. Chrissie was
'nice', didn't date, was awkward around boys and made a fool of
herself. She was shy and introverted. Angela couldn't accept that
she was capable of pleasing Justin as well as she. Chrissie
wasn't open, outgoing and anywhere as near sexy as her. As for
her dress sense! It all didn't make sense!


In the early morning, Angela woke up beside Justin. He was
sleeping peacefully and she listened to his measured breathing
for a while. She was so in love with him it hurt. Yet although
knowing every inch of his body, she'd yet to fathom his soul.
There were little areas of his life which he'd cut her off from.
At some level this increased her desire for him, but at another,
it rankled.


She cuddled him possessively, kissed his nipple and played with
his silky balls. Sighing, she rested her head in the crook of his
arm and returned to sleep.


-----------------------------------------------------------------


Chrissie stayed home that night. Her Mother was in a foul mood
all day and was drinking heavily. Too heavily for her daughter's
liking. She snapped at everything Chrissie said or did, slumped
in her big arm chair and lit cigarette after cigarette until the
whole lounge stank.


Chrissie hid in her room, read or wrote in her diary. She wanted
to ring Justin but knew he'd be with Angela. She was miserable
and jotted down her feelings page after page.


Tomorrow evening Justin was going to take her to a new movie at
the Rialto. Her Saturdays with him had become the central thing
in her life. She didn't know what she would do without that. Her
mother had become distant and moody, her friends had drifted on
to boyfriends and no longer had the time to spend with her.
Fridays for her were always an ordeal.


Sometimes she'd place a pillow between her legs and finger
herself with Justin's face in her mind's eye. Tonight, however,
she was too depressed to bother. Chrissie became aware of a soft
knocking at her door. She put away her diary and called to her
mother to come in.


Sharon was tearful and wanted to talk. She apologised for being
foul with her earlier and said that things had just got on top of
her lately. She hadn't had a decent commission in weeks and money
was getting tight.


"I guess I'm lonely too," she told Chrissie, "you know it won't
be long before you'll move away and then what?"


"You look great mum, when you go to the trouble," Chrissie told
her, "there's lots of nice men out there..."


"Oh no there's not!" she snapped, "and what would you know?"


Chrissie slumped in silence. Her mother put her arm around her
and again apologised.


"They're either too old and desperate. Or too young and
desperate!" she explained, "the nice ones are snapped up well
before I hit the scene. Who's going to look at the milk when they
can skim the cream?"


"Mum!" Chrissie protested.


"Oh it's true, Chrissie. I'm no longer a player in the market and
I don't want to join a ballroom dancing club," she grinned
ruefully. "Look I even steal your dream guy from under your nose.
I'm sorry about that, love, but you needed to know what an
arsehole he really is."


Chrissie boiled with the urge to defend Justin, but thought
better of it. 'Methinks she protest too much' she heard ringing
through her mind.


"Your father was the same," Sharon went on, "they're not family
men, you see. That's what you need, someone who'll stay around
and not... not fuck anything.. that's..." her Mother subsided.


Chrissie had adored her father. He'd left the house when she was
just 13. At the back of her mind she knew it was all because of
her. Her mother had not been able to deal with the close
relationship her and her father'd had. That, she felt, was the
*real* reason for the separation but she couldn't tell her
mother.


There were some things that were never discussed in the
household. This was the longest conversation she'd had with her
mother about her dad since before he left.


"... That boy's no good, no good at all..." her mother rambled
on, "Jus' like Frank he is. Charm, beauty, sexuality and such
wonderful, wonderful hands..." she sighed, "could be his son...
spitting image..."


"He's not!" Chrissie couldn't contain herself, "his father is,
is..."


"Yes, I know! Some bloody hippie," she told her, "No, Frank
wouldn't be so careless as to leave his progeny lying about. Far
too careful... Still, got the same hands as Frank..." she
mumbled.


Chrissie felt pangs of jealousy flick through her body. She
didn't need reminding of that morning when she'd found her mother
in bed with 'her' Justin.


"Nice dick too..." her mother went on, "... making that Angela
happy I bet..."


"Mum!" this was becoming too much for Chrissie.


"So how are you and, whatever-his-name-is getting on?" her mother
asked her.


"Who?"


"Whoever you've been sneaking off with on Saturday nights?"


"Um..." Chrissie hedged, thinking.


"You've been sleeping with him, haven't you? You know, you should
always wash your own underwear if you want to keep secrets."


"Mum, I..."


"Oh go on," her mother laughed, "just be careful. Why don't you
bring him back home? I'd prefer it if you did it here than in
some bushes somewhere."


"I can't he's..."


"Shy?" her mother laughed, "doesn't want to face the girlfriend's
mother after shagging her down by the river?" Sharon interrupted.


"Not yet," Chrissie replied, ignoring the comment, "it's too
early, um."


"Ok, ok, I understand. When you're more settled, bring him home
for me to check out. I promise I won't seduce him!" she laughed.


"You'd better not!" her daughter answered, acidly.


"Oh calm down. I was just kidding."


Chrissie, however, wasn't.


-----------------------------------------------------------------


Angela and Justin woke up within minutes of one another. They
kissed and snuggled and cured Justin's morning hard-on. They were
too tired to bother getting a condom, he was too smelly for her
to take him in her mouth. Instead she gently jerked him with her
hand until his cock spat into a tissue.


"That wasn't much?" Angela commented, tossing the damp tissue
into the wastepaper basket.


"I guess I'm a little drained," he smiled.


"Aw, poor baby! Did I tire you out? It had to happen sometime,"
she laughed.


The night had been all that Angela had dreamt it would be. She
tried to recount how many times they had made love. She wasn't
sure whether it was 3 or 4. She couldn't decide whether the last
time counted. Justin was spent so he got her off with his
fingers. Would that qualify as making love? She couldn't make up
her mind. If that qualified, she considered, then this morning
would have to count also. In that case it was 5 and that was
before breakfast. Who knows what's likely to happen before lunch?


"Breakfast or shower first?" she asked her lover.


"Shower I think," he replied.


Angela bounded from the bed. She'd been looking forward to taking
a shower with Justin all week. She'd even brought her own
fragrant shower gel. She anticipated that Justin would be good
enough to eat all nicely lathered up and smelling sweet.


Justin watched her beautiful little arse as she retrieved her
shower things from her bag. 'Damn, she'd even brought her own
towel!' he thought, 'as if they didn't have any!' He did think,
though, that it was kind of cute.


They had been in the shower a few minutes and had lathered each
other up well with Angela's gel, when she broke down and began
crying. Mystified and concerned, Justin consoled her as best he
could, hugging her tightly against his chest. When she'd calmed
down sufficiently, Justin asked her what was wrong.


"Nothing," she sobbed, "just happy. Very, very, happy..."


Later, they had breakfast in bed. Angela had put on her nightie,
a diaphanous thing that revealed hints of bare boob underneath.
He wasn't sure why she'd brought it, he didn't imagine they'd be
wearing anything at all. He did think, though, she looked sexy;
shower-flushed, hair damp and radiantly happy.


If Justin felt any guilt about cheating on her with her ex-best
friend, he concealed it well. In fact, Justin wasn't sure how he
felt anymore, about anything. Today he had a feeling as close to
love as he'd felt at anytime in his young life. In the moment,
the ethical dilemma seemed simple to solve. Afterwards, perhaps
during a long conversation with Chrissie, the waters would grow
murky once more. He just couldn't, or wouldn't make up his mind.


So he continued to steer clear of serious things he knew Angela
would want to discuss. Things like, the future, their love and
depth of feeling for one another, his Saturday nights and
Chrissie Benmore.


She in turn didn't press him, fearful perhaps of what might be
lost. She leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder.
Brushing her scalp across the stubble of his cheek, she felt his
hand circle her head and play with her hair. Her tears welled up
once more and she reached for a tissue. Justin shrugged as she
dabbed her eyes.


-----------------------------------------------------------------
-


Angela left about four. She'd become moody as the afternoon wore
on. She insisted on walking and busing home. She told Justin she
needed time to think. As she was about to go, she'd spun around
and hugged him tightly. She'd looked him in the face and told him
she loved him again, just in case he had any doubts. Justin
watched her stroll down the street from the lounge window.
Watched the fluid poetry of her faded jeans-covered arse as it
swayed down towards the bus stop.


He'd a couple of hours to get ready before his date with
Chrissie. He'd planned to grab a quick meal with her before
catching the movie. Justin was suddenly torn between spending
another day with Angela and calling off his date with Chrissie.
He was concerned about her mood. It didn't last, however, beyond
making the call to Chrissie's cellphone.


Chrissie was down also. They talked for about half an hour. She
told him she was concerned about her mother, that she was
depressed and drinking and smoking heavily. Chrissie wasn't sure
what she should do. Her sister Vickie was away on holiday with
her boyfriend. Normally she knew how to anchor her mother.


"So, how often does she get like that?" Justin asked.


"Not for a long time," Chrissie replied, "she gets a bit lonely
sometimes and..." she tailed off.


"So, you want to call off tonight?" Justin asked, helpfully.


"No!" she snapped, "I... I need to get out... to see you," she
pleaded.


"Sure, sure!" he replied, "can't wait!"


So off he went and picked up Chrissie at the usual place. She
kissed him briefly and urged him to get going. She told him she
feared her mother might one day follow her, out of curiosity.
They ordered some takeaways at the drive-thru and had them at the
riverbank car park.


Chrissie was quiet and sullen. She remained impassive as Justin
pawed her hair. Eventually he gave up. Breathing deeply, she
said, quietly,


"It bugs me, Justin."


"What?"


"Angela... and..."


"Oh," he mumbled.


He knew it was coming. The demand that he make a choice, the time
that he most feared. He didn't think he could string her along
much longer.


"You need to tell her, Justin," she continued, "I mean, I really
understand, you know! You're obliging, want to please everybody,
I know that! But you're not being fair to her, don't you see?"


"Yes," Justin mumbled.


He wanted the conversation to pass on.


"You need to be strong," she went on, "she'll understand, after a
while. Her type just move on to someone else."


"Her type?" he asked.


"Y'know," she explained, "the 'popular' types. All they care
about are clothes and whether their hair's all right. They just
like to be seen with sexy guys, that's all. I guess it makes them
feel ok."


"That doesn't sound like Angela," Justin commented.


"You forget, Justin, I knew her way back when. That sounds
*exactly* like Angela."


"But that was years ago," Justin replied, "I think you're being
judgemental. She's a lot deeper than that!"


"No she's not!" Chrissie bristled, "she's as shallow as a cake
plate!"


Justin flashed angrily, but decided to let it go. He clearly
wasn't going to win the argument without explaining some of his
feelings for Angela. He didn't think that was a good idea at the
moment.


The movie was deeply romantic. The American actors were
universally pretty, young and fresh-faced-cool. Justin was a
little bored unless the blond fox young starlet slunk through a
scene. Chrissie squeezed his hand in caution whenever he perked
up.


She was wearing jeans, rather than her usual skirt. When his hand
strayed up her thigh she gently nudged it away. Clearly she
wasn't in the mood for petting.


The lobby was crowded as they made their way out afterwards. A
clutch of parents were waiting to pick up their children, tapping
and looking around self-consciously. Justin put his arms around
Chrissie's waist from behind and steered her towards the doors.


Outside in the city night, garish with neon and car lights, two
figures moved from the shadows and pounced on the couple like
cats. The first thing Justin knew was a head thrust rudely over
his shoulder from behind him.


"You think I'm blind as well as stupid, Justin?"


A powerful smell of scent, tobacco and alcohol blew into his
face. The voice was chillingly familiar.


"I warned you, but you just couldn't help yourself!" the voice
snarled.


Chrissie reacted first.


"MUM!" she spun, startled.


"Stay out of this you little slut. I'll deal with you later!"
Sharon snapped at her daughter.


"Sharon!" came another voice, "you don't need..."


It was Frances. Of course Sharon couldn't have driven into town
by herself. She was well over the limit.


All this flashed through Justin's mind with crystal clarity. His
brain went into overdrive, running explanations through his
bullshit filters to see which one would work. Meanwhile he shrunk
back from the menace. Drunk as she was, he didn't know what
Sharon would do. For all he knew, she could have a carving knife
in her hand.


"Yes, take her away, Fran. I don't want to look at her right
now."


"I'm not going anywhere!" protested Chrissie.


"C'mon, Christine," Frances urged kindly, "just for a little
while. Until everyone calms down."


"You're just fucking jealous!!" she snarled at her mother.


Sharon started towards her, rage flaring behind her eyes. Frances
pushed her body in between them and shoved Chrissie away.


"BECAUSE HE DOESN'T FUCKING WANT YOU," Chrissie continued, "HE
NEVER WANTED YOU, YOU OLD BITCH!" she yelled.


People around them moved away, forming an impromptu ring for the
spectacle. This was better than the movie!


Frances turned to control a raging Sharon, now advancing after
Chrissie. Her daughter was backing away down the street, still
hurling abuse. Justin was terrified and backed towards the crowd
of onlookers. He was torn between standing by Chrissie and
bolting, now the attention was off him.


"SO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?" Sharon screamed back at her
daughter, "HOW MANY MEN HAVE YOU SCREWED, HMM? GO ON, WE'RE
WAITING TO HEAR? TELL US ABOUT YOUR TASTE IN MEN?"


Tears were streaming down Chrissie's face.


"TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THE ARSEHOLES, CHRISSIE!" Sharon continued,
"let me help you then, shall I?" her voice dropped menacingly.


Her voice carried clearly to the hushed crowd around them.


"NO!" Chrissie yelled, her voice filled with terror, "DON'T!"


"Her own father perhaps?" Sharon said coldly, "my husband?"


"NO!"


"My husband, who went through my friends, and their friends and
their friend's friends like a hot knife through butter. A man who
Chrissie would do anything for, isn't that right Chrissie? Even
bleeding all over my sheets where they fucked like animals..."


"SHARON!" yelled Frances.


"...Then a boy who screws her best friend, her mother and *her*
friends..."


Chrissie dropped to her knees, hands clutching her face, howling
bitterly.


"So don't lecture me about men, Chrissie Benmore!" Sharon went on
in the same tone of voice.


"SHARON!" Frances said sternly, "that's enough!"


She strode right up to Sharon and steered her back down the
street. Justin had edged into the crowd. Those nearest to him
eyed him curiously. Frances guided Sharon through only metres
away. She was still muttering.


"She asked for it, the bitch," Justin plainly heard.


He looked towards where he'd last seen Chrissie, but she'd
disappeared. Reeling from the event, he struck a moment of
indecision before running off down the street after her.


He searched for for nearly half an hour before spotting her. She
was slumped down next to a rubbish bin down an alley beside a
restaurant. He might have missed her had she not brushed her shoe
over the pea gravel. He then saw some movement and recognised her
shoe in the afterglow of a nearby streetlight.


"Chrissie?" he said, tentatively.


"You came for me?" said a little voice, "can I go home now?" she
asked.


"I, I think you'd better crash at my place," he told her kindly.


"Sure," she nodded, "that would be best. Can I stay in your
room?"


"No problem," Justin assured her, "come on, it's dirty here!"


She let Justin guide her back to the car. Chrissie moved slowly
and deliberately, as if mentally, emotionally and physically
exhausted. Her speech was dreamy, as if talking in her sleep.
Justin felt way out of his depth. She was clearly traumatised and
he had no idea what to do. He folded her into the car seat and
drove back to his house. He took off her jeans and tucked her
into his bed. Getting in behind her, spooning her body, he tried
to talk, but she was snoring contentedly.


He put his arms protectively over her body and nestled into the
cascade of her hair. He joined her in sleep.


KATZMAREK (C)
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+