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From: Nick Scipio <nick@nickscipio.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Summer Camp - Book 4" by Nick Scipio - Ch 5 (MF, teen, oral, mast, exhib)
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Date: Thu, 03 Apr 2008 15:10:02 -0400
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 4: Christy
Part: Chapter 05
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a young man whose family
spends their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: MF, teen, oral, mast, exhib
Revision: 1.02
Word Count: 11,464
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book4/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book4/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This story is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains
material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT
read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
or incidents is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio. It may be
freely distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2007-2008 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Summer Camp - Book 4: Christy
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER FIVE

My problems with Kendall weren't going to solve themselves. I
felt like sulking, but that wouldn't help either, so I threw
myself into work. I had more than enough to keep me busy.

The crews had to sand, stain, and wax the hardwood floors in the
bungalows, and finish any paint touch-ups. In addition, the
landscaper and her assistant began planting the beds along the
front. At the Colonial Revival house, the electrical and plumbing
subcontractors were doing finish work.

Blackie and Trip managed things at the Revival house, while Mike
and I did the same at the bungalows. We spent most of our time
looking over the houses and working down the punch lists. Junior
probably grumbled about my new status, but I didn't give him a
second thought--I didn't have time.

When the crews finished for the day, Trip and Blackie returned so
we could go over the schedule. We had a lot of things happening
at once, and it made my head hurt to think about it all.

Trip, Blackie, and Mike did most of the talking, but they looked
at _me_ when they needed design decisions. I was up to my
eyeballs in details, but I could "see" the final design in my
head. I simply had to close my eyes, picture what we were talking
about, and give them an answer. We ended the meeting with a
detailed list of things we needed to do.

Trip and I picked up pizza on the way home. It was fattening, but
I didn't care. I simply wanted to collapse, preferably within
reach of the phone. Kendall and I were drifting apart--except
when it came to sex, of course--so I took a shower, grabbed a
slice of pizza, and dialed her number.

We talked for half an hour. She told me about her medical school
application, but I didn't ask many questions. I simply wasn't
interested. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I was too
tired to kid myself.

I felt guilty when she asked about the houses. I told her about
the day's meeting, and she sounded impressed that the older men
asked me about so many things. Unfortunately, _I_ wasn't nearly
as impressed as she was--Blackie and Mike could've made all the
decisions themselves. They weren't patronizing me, but they were
definitely asking my opinion when they didn't really need to.

Kendall said she could hear how tired I was, so she told me she
loved me. I said I loved her, and we hung up. Trip emerged from
his bedroom a few minutes later. He chuckled when he saw how
tired I was.

"Don't worry," he said, "it's always like this at the end of a
renovation." He pulled two beers from the fridge and sank to the
couch beside me. "I'm totally wasted by the time I finish work
for the summer."

"Then why are we pushing so hard to get ahead of schedule? Why
not slow down and finish on time?"

"I want a vacation, even a short one." He laughed harshly.
"Actually, I _need_ a vacation. We both do."

"No kidding."

"So that's why I've been pushing. We'll pay a bonus to the crews,
but it'll be worth it. After everything is said and done, we
should make ten grand."

I whistled softly and wondered what I'd do with five thousand
dollars.

"_Each_," he added.

My jaw dropped. "You mean we're going to make ten thousand
dollars _each?_"

"A little more, actually. No guarantees, though. We still have a
lot of work to do, and something could go wrong, but yeah, about
that."

"Holy shit," I said, low and soft.

"No kidding. And if interest rates continue to fall--they were
_crazy_ last year... nineteen and twenty percent--then the housing
market will pick up. We already saw some of it this year with the
rates at fourteen and fifteen percent. Which means, O partner of
mine, next year should be even better." He shot me a sidelong
look. "If you're up for it, that is."

"Yeah, I'm up for it."

I whistled again. Ten thousand dollars!

-----

The rest of the week was more of the same: twelve-hour workdays,
a shower, something completely unhealthy to eat, and a phone call
to Kendall. We never talked long. Either I was too tired, or she
had something she needed to do. It was better than before, but
most of our conversations were missing something. A spark, maybe.

I also got a letter from Gina. She was wrapping up her job at the
hospital, and getting ready for her parents to visit before
school started. She was also beginning to think about where she
wanted to go to medical school. Her short list included UC San
Francisco, Johns Hopkins, and Harvard.

After looking at her list, I wondered why she came to UT in the
first place. The College of Architecture was cutting edge, but
the pre-med program was nothing special. Not compared to UCLA, at
least. I knew the answer, but it hurt to think that _I_ had been
more important to Gina than her future.

I was in a melancholy mood when I wrote her back. I wanted to
tell her about my relationship problems, but she didn't
particularly like Kendall, for obvious reasons. She wouldn't
gloat, but I didn't want to put her in an awkward situation. So I
told her about work, life with Trip, and everything but what I
really wanted to talk about.

I still felt glum on Friday. I wanted to spend the weekend with
Kendall, but she and her parents planned to visit her sick great
aunt, somewhere near Bristol, Tennessee. Trip had plans as well,
although they included a long meeting with the woman who did our
bookkeeping and payroll. I wasn't looking forward to sitting home
alone.

Wren came to my rescue.

"Hi," she said when I answered the phone. "What're you doing?"

"I just got home from work. Why? What's up?"

"I know it's last-minute," she said, "but what're you doing
tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Perfect!"

"Excuse me?"

"I need you," she said.

"What for?"

"I need a date. But not just any date--I need a birthday date."

She was talking in circles, and I was too tired to follow.
"What?"

"I need a date for my birthday, silly," she said. "A bunch of us
are planning to hit a club downtown. It was originally gonna be
just us girls, but they all wanted to invite their boyfriends.
Now I'm the only girl without a date. How's that gonna look? The
birthday girl without a date?"

Despite my exhaustion, I chuckled. "No, that definitely won't
work."

"So I thought to myself, 'Who's the only guy I know who'll fly
into town just to see little ol' me?' Actually, you were third on
the list, but the other guys' Learjets are in the shop."

I couldn't decide whether to laugh or complain.

"Will you do it, Paul?" she asked, completely sincere. "Please?"

I recovered my composure and needled her. "What about the other
guys? They might get their Lears fixed in time."

"Now you're just being hateful," she teased. Then her voice
turned soft and a little pleading. "Please, Paul. I wouldn't ask
anyone but you."

"Sure," I said at last. "It sounds like fun. Besides, I wouldn't
want those Lear guys to take advantage of you."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll make it worth your
while. I promise."

"Just give me a goodnight kiss," I said, ever the gentleman.

"With tongue, or without?"

I laughed. "With, of course."

"You got it!"

We talked about details for a few minutes. I tried not to gape
when I realized how much her father was spending on her. Not only
was he paying for dinner--at his own restaurant, of course, but
still expensive--he was footing the bill for a limo and then
drinks and dancing at one of the hottest clubs in Atlanta.

"Oh, Paul," Wren said at last, "I can't wait to see you. Thank
you so much."

-----

When I rolled into the pattern at Dekalb Peachtree airport, I was
fifth in line, behind a Beech King Air. Twenty minutes later I
secured the tiedowns and headed for the parking lot.

Unfortunately, my dad's Karmann Ghia wasn't where it was supposed
to be. I spent fifteen minutes searching for it--fruitlessly--in
the hopes that he'd simply parked it somewhere else. I finally
decided that he was on a trip, which meant the car was at
Hartsfield, so I went back to the FBO and called a cab.

At home, I debated whether or not to borrow Dad's Corvette to run
my errands. The debate lasted less than a minute, since I knew
that he wouldn't mind, as long as I was careful. So I rumbled out
of the garage and headed toward the mall.

I shopped for a while, but without much luck. Since I was
masquerading as Wren's ex-boyfriend, I couldn't simply get her a
stuffed bear. I couldn't get her a diamond ring, either. Wrong
message. Clothes were out--too staid or too personal--and
lingerie was right out, no matter how much I wanted to see her in
it.

I finally settled on a diamond tennis bracelet. The diamonds were
chips, but it still cost more than I thought I should spend. Wren
would like it, though, and the saleswoman even gift-wrapped the
box for me.

When I got home I had to rush to get ready. I nearly cut myself
shaving, and was barely dressed when I heard the doorbell. In a
rush, I straightened my tie, shrugged into my suit coat, and
raced for the door. I yanked it open just as Wren rang the bell
again.

She beamed when she saw me. Her hair was done up in soft curls,
and she wore a black cocktail dress that showed off her body. I
didn't even have time to admire her before she threw her arms
around my neck and pulled me down for a sound kiss.

When she finally stepped back, I blushed at the limo driver's
studied disinterest. He was standing by the car, holding the door
open, and doing his best to look professional. Wren let me go so
I could close the front door. Then I offered my arm, and she
looped hers through it. In the back of the limousine, she
introduced me to the couple already there.

"This is Scarlett, my cousin," she said, "and her boyfriend,
Mitch."

I nodded to Scarlett and shook Mitch's hand.

We made small talk until we reached the Wellington House, where
we met three more couples. Wren introduced everyone, and I tried
to memorize names and faces. The guys wore suits, and the girls
were dressed for a night on the town, but Wren and Scarlett stood
out.

Dinner was the best I'd had in weeks, and the conversation around
the table was lively. Wren opened her gifts after the waiter
cleared the plates. She opened mine first, and gave me a kiss as
she modeled the bracelet for the other girls. The rest of her
presents were the usual mix of serious and gag gifts.

Her father was working, but the waiter must have told him that
she was opening presents, because he appeared a few minutes
later. He asked if we were enjoying ourselves, and if we needed
anything. Then he pulled a slim box from his breast pocket.

"Here you are, sweetheart," he said to Wren. "One last gift for
you to open."

She unwrapped it and gasped. It was a heart-shaped diamond
pendant with a pale green stone in the center. I helped her put
it on, and the girls oohed and aahed as her father looked on.

"Oh my God, it's beautiful," Wren said. "Thank you, Dad."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

The waiter arrived with champagne and a birthday cake, and we
thoroughly embarrassed her by singing "Happy Birthday."

Afterward, her father walked with us to the parking lot and said
goodbye as we piled into the limousine for the ride to the club.
Wren sat on my lap in the back, with Scarlett on Mitch's lap next
to us. The other couples squeezed onto the L-shaped front bench.

One of the guys opened a bottle of champagne from the limo's bar.
We finished several more on the way, so everyone had a happy buzz
by the time we reached the club. The doormen ushered us inside
like we owned the place. They had a private table waiting for us,
a big round booth in the corner. The waitress took our drink
orders, more champagne, but no one sat down. Instead, we headed
for the dance floor.

I wasn't the greatest dancer in the world, but I didn't embarrass
myself. The music had a driving beat, a mixture of disco and new
wave. Trip probably could've told me the names of the bands, but
I was paying too much attention to Wren to care.

We finally returned to the table after five or six songs. Wren
slid into the booth and pulled me with her. I filled her glass
and then my own. She leaned close to my ear.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I knew you'd be my knight in
shining armor."

Scarlett and Mitch returned a few minutes later, and we quickly
finished the bottle. We opened another and poured everyone a
fresh round when the other couples returned from the dance floor.

Wren and Scarlett started giggling and put their heads together
to talk, so I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me.
He was a junior at Emory, majoring in business. The music was
loud, so we had to shout to talk, but neither of us seemed to
care. Then Wren got my attention.

"Scarlett doesn't think you love me," she said, her eyes
twinkling with mischief.

"Of course I love her," I shouted over the din. "Who wouldn't?"

"Then kiss her, you fool!" Scarlett said.

I'd had enough champagne that I thought it was a good idea, so I
turned Wren's face and tilted it up. My lips met hers and parted.
She moaned softly, her breath tart from the champagne. When we
finally pulled back, she was breathing heavy, her eyes glassy.

"Happy birthday," I said.

She blinked to clear her head and immediately reached for her
champagne. She drained the glass in one swallow, and held it out
for more. Mitch grinned and filled it. Scarlett's eyes
practically glowed as she smiled at me.

While the waitress brought more champagne, we headed back to the
dance floor. Wren plastered herself against me, and I quickly
realized that she was drunk. Not falling-down drunk, but playful
and bold. She drew my head down and whispered in my ear.

"Thank you for being my boyfriend tonight. It really means a
lot."

"You're welcome."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"You already are."

She pulled back and gave me a serious, searching look. Then she
turned mischievous again, and ran her hands down my chest. With a
sultry grin, she pressed her breasts together with her upper
arms.

The strap of her dress slid off her shoulder, and she pretended
to look surprised. When it slid further, I thought I could see
the top of her nipple. I reached up and grasped the thin cord.
Our eyes met, and hers flashed a challenge.

Without breaking eye contact, I slid the strap back into place.
Her nostrils flared at my cool smile. Then she used my tie to
pull me along, her hips swaying with the beat. We reached the
edge of the dance floor, where she turned and pulled me close.

Her face tilted up, and I met her lips with my own. Since no one
could see, she caressed my dick with one hand, while the other
twined through my hair and held me close. She gave my dick a
final squeeze and then broke the kiss. Her eyes were hooded and
coy, innocent.

I couldn't help but laugh. She merely smirked and led me back to
the table. The other couples were there, and we quickly finished
another bottle of champagne. Scarlett and Mitch rejoined us a
moment later, flushed from dancing.

Wren leaned against me, but her right hand disappeared beneath
the table. She rested it on my inner thigh and slid it toward my
hard-on as she talked to Scarlett. I decided to tease right back,
so I put my arm around her and toyed with the strap of her dress.
With each pass, I wandered further down the strap, until I slid
under the dress itself. I wasn't close to her nipple, but the
touch was nearly as intimate.

Scarlett watched with rapt attention. Her eyes flicked between
Wren, me, and my finger. Mitch was shouting a conversation across
the table, so he didn't notice the byplay.

Wren moved her hand, edging closer to my dick. I moved closer to
her nipple. She pulled back, so I pulled back. She moved closer,
so I moved closer. We played our game of one-upmanship for
several minutes, until the waitress arrived with more champagne.

"God, you're evil," Wren finally said in my ear. "You have _no_
idea how hot I am right now."

"Well, you know how hard _I_ am."

She flashed a smug smile and sipped her champagne.

After a while we headed to the dance floor again. She danced
close and teased me with glimpses down her dress. She repeated
the trick with the falling strap, but I resisted the temptation.
Instead, I slid the cord up her shoulder. Two could tease, after
all.

She huffed and upped the ante. By the time we left the dance
floor, I was glad I'd worn a dark suit, since it hid my erection.

Unfortunately, two of the other girls had drunk way too much
champagne, and were nearly asleep in the booth. The third girl
was bleary-eyed, but coherent. Wren and Scarlett were both drunk,
but neither showed signs of slowing down. Most of the guys were
sober enough.

Still, Mitch leaned close and shouted, "We'd better go, man."

I nodded and broke the news to Wren. I thought she'd be upset,
but she merely nodded. The girls went to the bathroom together--
Wren, Scarlett, and the third girl helped the two who'd drunk too
much. Mitch tapped my shoulder and nodded toward the men's room.

Inside, some guy was doing lines of coke from a mirror on the
counter. He looked awful--red eyes and nose, with a sheen of
sweat covering his pale skin--but he offered us a line. Mitch
turned him down flat. I tried to hide my surprise, but Mitch saw.

"Do a line if you want, man," he said.

I quickly shook my head. "I don't touch the stuff."

"Me neither."

"What about the others?" I asked as we stepped to the urinals.

He shook his head. "Nobody in our crowd does. We're not losers."
He laughed. "I thought you might be a cokehead, though."

I looked a question at him.

"You've got the look, you know?"

"What look?"

"Fancy suit, good looks, slick moves. You know the type."

I knew the type, all right. His name was Rod Fortner.

"I'm glad you're cool, though," Mitch said. "One of us."

I nodded, and we washed our hands together. Mitch made a face as
he wiped stray white powder from the countertop. He dusted his
hands and raised his voice. "Fucking cokeheads!" But the guy was
already gone.

I laughed and we headed back to the table. The girls returned ten
minutes later, and we gathered our things. I stayed with Wren so
she could pay the bill. I didn't see what the total was, but I
probably didn't want to. Wren seemed surprised, but she handed
over her father's American Express.

"I really owe my dad for this one," she said quietly.

I put my arm around her and she pressed close. She was more
relaxed, less flirty. Maybe she realized she couldn't tease me
all night long. Maybe she was saving up for a bigger tease. Maybe
she was just tired.

After she signed the check and put the card back in her purse, we
walked out arm in arm. I followed her into the limo, and the
driver headed toward the Wellington House to drop off the
three couples. Wren laid her head against my chest, her arms
around me.

At the restaurant, Mitch and I got out with the other couples. We
helped the drunk girls into their boyfriends' cars and then
waited until they left the parking lot. Scarlett and Wren were
talking quietly when we returned to the limo. Wren flashed me an
uncharacteristically bashful look.

"I know it's last-minute," she whispered, "but do you mind if I
spend the night at your house? I was going to stay with Scarlett,
but... you know." She glanced at Mitch. "Since I'm with you, I
thought..." She shrugged apologetically. "I know I should've asked
you earlier, but... I forgot."

I chuckled. "No problem."

The limo driver dropped Scarlett and Mitch at his apartment. Wren
and I got out with them and said goodnight. Mitch and I shook
hands and exchanged pleasantries. Scarlett kissed my cheek and
smiled a knowing smile.

Mitch lived about twenty minutes from my house, so Wren and I
relaxed for the ride home. I put my arm around her, but she
turned and straddled my lap instead. I rested my hands on her
firm thighs as she toyed with my tie. She smiled and straightened
it. When she finally looked at me, her hazel eyes were full of
conflicting emotions.

I started to say something, but fell silent instead.

She did the same. Then her lips parted as she moved closer.

I lifted my chin and drew her in. Her lips were soft at first,
but she quickly cupped my face and kissed harder, her tongue
seeking mine. Our breathing grew heavy as our kisses deepened.
She pressed against me, her body firm through her dress.

She pulled back long enough to tilt her head and kiss my neck as
her hands scrabbled for my tie. She tugged it loose and reached
for my top button. Her kisses trailed down my neck toward my
throat, and then up the other side.

I grunted when she kissed the hollow behind my jaw. She moaned
and kissed me again, her lips hot against my skin. I ran my hands
up her sides, holding her as she continued teasing the spot
behind my ear.

She finally pulled back and looked at me, her eyes afire. Her
lips found mine in a rush, her tongue insistent. I felt her tug
her dress over her hips, so I cupped her ass. She ground her hips
against me, her crotch seeking mine.

The limo came to a stop and I looked around in a daze. Wren
simply planted another line of kisses down my neck and around to
my ear. I was tempted to let her continue--it felt _incredibly_
good--but the driver would lose patience long before I was ready
to leave. So I pushed Wren away, and she seemed to come to her
senses.

"Sorry," she said. "I know we shouldn't, but..."

"I know," I said. "It's all right. I..." I cleared my throat and
wiped saliva from my lips with a grin. "It was nice."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling in the dim light.

The driver got out when he felt us move toward the door. He was
waiting when we stepped out. As soon as he saw Wren, he opened
the trunk and fetched her overnight bag. I fished in my pocket
for a tip and pulled out my emergency fifty. It was more than I
wanted to give him, but I didn't want to fumble for a smaller
bill. So I folded it into my palm and waited.

The driver handed me the bag and I slipped him the tip, just like
Susan had taught me. I actually managed to pull it off with a bit
of finesse, and the driver nodded slightly, impressed. Then he
caught a glimpse of the bill, and his professional expression
slipped.

"Thank _you_, sir," he said.

Wren gave me a funny look, but didn't ask questions as I walked
her toward the house. The driver waited until we were inside
before he pulled away. I locked the front door and turned to
Wren. She rushed into my arms. I dropped her bag in surprise as
she practically climbed my chest and wrapped her legs around my
waist. She showered me with kisses, insistent, eager, hungry.

I staggered and managed to pin her against the wall. She cupped
my face and raised her chin as I kissed her neck. Her skin was
soft and smooth, hot to the touch and musky with desire. My
kisses trailed lower, down her chest. Her soft breasts heaved
with her panting. I cupped them and squeezed gently, my lips
seeking hers again.

_What am I doing?_ I thought with alarm. I pulled back and tried
to compose myself.

"I'm so sorry," Wren said.

"It's my fault."

"No, it's _my_ fault. I've been teasing you all night. I'm so
sorry."

The strap of her dress had fallen down, and I reached up to fix
it. Her eyes met mine. The entire night came back in a rush, all
the teasing, all the flirting, and more. I started to lift the
strap.

"Don't," she said.

I held her eyes. "This is going to be complicated," I said at
last.

"I don't care." She looked at her dress strap and then moistened
her lips.

Time stood still.

I released my breath and yanked the strap down, exposing her
breast. She ran her fingers through my hair as I sucked her
nipple. I switched sides and bared her other breast. She gasped
when I nibbled, but she pulled me closer.

She was panting with desire when I raised my lips and sought
hers. She tugged off the straps and held my face again, her mouth
as hungry as mine.

I carried her to my bedroom and kicked off my shoes without even
untying them. She grabbed my tie and it flew with a hiss of silk.
Her fingers worked at my buttons, and she kissed my bare chest,
her lips hot and soft against my skin. I cupped her ass and
squeezed, my fingers digging into her crack.

We tumbled to the bed. I shucked my jacket and shirt in one
maneuver. She skinned the dress over her hips. Then she kicked it
across the room as I reached for my belt.

"I'll do it," she said. The zipper hissed as she lowered it. She
tugged my pants and boxers down, and my erection sprang into
view.

She engulfed my dick, her lips smooth and supple. I threw my head
back and grunted with pleasure as she swallowed half my length.

When I finally came to my senses, I pushed her back. Her nipples
were hard, and she grinned as I reached for her panties. I tugged
them over her legs and then kicked my pants away.

I picked her up and tossed her toward the head of the bed. She
yelped with surprise, but grew quiet when I climbed between her
legs and bent to kiss her taut belly. She quivered at my touch,
her breasts heaving as I planted a line of kisses between them.
My lips met hers, and she pulled me down.

"Oh, God," she panted when we finally separated. "I want you so
bad."

I kissed her again.

She whimpered when I pulled away. I merely grinned and then
lowered my lips to her nipples. I could've spent _days_ enjoying
her breasts, but I eventually moved lower. I ran my tongue around
her navel, teasing until she cried out. She ran her fingers
through my hair when I finally settled between her legs.

Her labia were plump and dark, fringed with hair. I almost
laughed to myself--it had been a while since I'd gone down on a
woman with pubic hair. But the smell of her desire hit me, and I
didn't care. I spread her open and teased her with my tongue.

She whimpered as I began licking in earnest. I circled her clit
at the top of each lick, and ran my tongue between the folds of
her inner and outer lips. The tang of her arousal filled my
senses.

"Oh, God," she gasped. "Yes!"

I licked her again, and flicked my tongue against the hooded pink
pearl at the top of her slit. Then I pursed my lips and sucked
gently. Her pubic hair tickled my nose, but she ran her fingers
through my hair and lifted her hips. She was more assertive than
Kendall, and--

I felt a wash of guilt at the thought of Kendall. Wren bucked her
hips again, but I pulled back. I could taste her on my lips, feel
her on my cheeks. My dick was so hard that it hurt, and my balls
were ready to burst. But what about Kendall? I sighed in
frustration.

_I can't do this._

Another part of me said, _Why the fuck not?_

The big head slowly wrested control from the little one. I wanted
Wren more than anything in the world. She wanted me, but I
couldn't do it.

What had Trip said? Sometimes the right thing to do is also the
hardest?

_What does he know?_ the little head said. _Fuck her!_

_No._

The one word was all it took, and I had control again.
Unfortunately, I also had a problem. I climbed to all fours and
held myself over her. She reached between us, and her fingers
found my cock. She squeezed, and I felt a moment of vertigo as
pleasure and guilt fought within me.

"God, you're big," she said, stroking my shaft as she pulled me
toward her opening.

I tried to pull away, but she held me. "Wren," I said at last,
"I'm sorry."

Her expression changed.

"I... I can't."

"What? Are you worried about condoms?"

"It... it's not that."

"I have some in my purse, but you don't need them. It's not that
time of the month." She didn't understand--_wouldn't_ understand.

"Wren... I... I can't." I pulled away and sat back on my haunches. My
dick hadn't gotten the message. It was still hard, _painfully_
so. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean, you're sorry?"

"Wren, we can't do this. _I_ can't do this."

"What do you mean? I thought you wanted to."

"I _do_ want to," I said. "That's the problem." I paused and
clenched my fists in frustration. "What are we supposed to do,
Wren? Is this a one-night stand? Or do we keep doing it, sneaking
around when we're back at school? Am I supposed to break up with
Kendall? You said you wouldn't want me if I did that." I snorted
in contempt, mostly at myself. "_I_ wouldn't want me if I did
that."

"But I thought..."

"I'm sorry, Wren. I like you--a lot--but I can't do this. Not
now, not like this. I want to, but..." I shook my head in
frustration.

"You're serious? You mean you're really going to stop? _Now?_"

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Get out."

"Wren, please, you've got to understand."

"Get... out," she said.

"I..."

"Get. Out."

I stood and walked to the door. I turned to say something else,
but she threw a pillow at me.

"Get out!" she shrieked.

I closed the door and sagged to the floor. Tears of frustration
and disappointment sprang to my eyes, but I refused to cry.

Wren didn't have the same luxury, and the sound of her sobbing
broke my heart.

-----

I lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling for a long time. I
wanted to curse Kendall, for ignoring me except when she wanted
sex. I wanted to curse Wren, for being so damned sexy that I
couldn't resist. I even wanted to curse Trip, for his stupid
remark about doing the right thing. I wanted to curse everyone
but myself.

Unfortunately, I was feeling especially honest, so I laid the
blame where it belonged. I hated myself for getting into the
situation in the first place. I shouldn't have drunk so much. I
shouldn't have flirted so much. I shouldn't have kissed her. I
shouldn't have taken her to bed.

I laughed harshly. The night had been a long series of bad
decisions, all of them mine.

I don't know how long I'd been lying there when I heard my
bedroom door open. Wren staggered to the bathroom, and I heard
her retching. I vaulted the back of the couch in a single leap.
The blanket fluttered to the floor behind me as I ran to the
bathroom.

Wren gripped the toilet as she threw up. I knelt beside her and
held her hair out of her face. I had to choke back my own gorge
when the smell hit me, but I didn't pull away. I simply held her
as she emptied her stomach. When she finally spit the last of it,
I cleaned her face with toilet paper.

She looked at me with red, puffy eyes. Her hair was plastered to
her clammy skin. She looked awful, and she collapsed in my arms.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled.

I shushed her and smoothed her hair.

She began crying, her body shuddering with great sobs as she
clung to me. I simply held her, our skin warm where it touched.
We were both nude, but sex was the last thing on my mind.

When her tears finally stopped, she snuffled miserably. I grabbed
some toilet paper, and she blew her nose. She looked up and tried
to smile, but her expression was full of misery.

"I'm so sorry," she said again.

I tried to keep my voice cheerful, which struck me as absurd.
"For what?"

"For tonight. For getting drunk. For throwing up. For
everything." She snuffled. "I really screwed things up, didn't
I?"

"No," I whispered, my voice thick. "I shouldn't have led you on
like I did."

"I knew what I was doing," she said, "and I wanted it. More than
I realized." She laughed harshly. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, I'm going to put you back to bed, and then I'm going to
sleep on the couch."

She shook her head. She felt my question before I asked it. "I
don't want to be alone tonight," she said. "Can we just sleep
together? Without sex?"

"Wren, I--"

"Please?"

I tried to speak, but I couldn't find the words. So I kissed her
forehead and pulled her closer. "All right."

We sat like that for a long time, and she cried softly as I held
her. She wasn't crying with frustration or despair--it was
relief, and I could feel it in her body. I rocked her gently,
crooning low, my presence more comforting than anything I could
say.

We stood a while later. She was shaky and weak, but I supported
her easily. In my bedroom, our scattered clothes lay where we'd
flung them. I rummaged in my dresser and came up with an old T-
shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. I offered her the shirt, but
she shook her head.

She climbed into bed and made room for me to join her. I knew I
should've put on the boxers, but I tossed them aside instead. She
pressed herself against me when I settled next to her. I put my
arm around her and stared at the ceiling.

Her body felt warm and soft, and she rested her cheek on my
shoulder. The little head made a final plea, but I silenced it
with an act of will. Wren was quiet for a long time, but then I
felt her draw breath to speak.

"Do you think we'll still be friends?"

"After tonight," I said, "I think we'll _always_ be friends."

"I hope so."

"Me too."

She took a ragged breath and then kissed my chest. I gently
rubbed her back, and she fell asleep a few minutes later,
exhausted.

Unfortunately, I lay awake for a long time, thinking about how my
life had become even _more_ complicated.

-----

The sun was shining through the blinds when I woke up. Wren was
still asleep beside me. She looked so peaceful that I didn't want
to disturb her. Unfortunately, I had my usual morning hard-on,
and I had to go to the bathroom. I slid from under her arm and
covered her with the sheet.

I stood over the toilet until my penis grew soft enough to pee,
and then felt dizzy at the sheer pleasure of emptying my bladder.
When I was done, I turned on the shower and let the water warm
up. I was in the middle of rinsing my hair when I heard Wren use
the toilet. She joined me in the shower a moment later.

"Um... good morning," I said.

She grimaced and ducked under the stream of hot water. She let it
run over her for a long time, her dark hair slick against her
skull. When she finally opened her eyes, she seemed more human.

"I feel like I've been beaten," she said. "Actually, I feel like
I danced all night, almost had sex, puked my guts out, and cried
myself to sleep."

"I guess that about sums it up," I said. "Sorry about the last
three."

"It's not your fault. At least you were honest. Lots of guys
would've had sex with me and _then_ dumped me. I've never been
dumped beforehand."

"You weren't dumped."

"Then what would you call it? I've never had a guy say no
before."

"It's character-building."

She blinked at my dry tone.

"For what it's worth," I continued, "you're the first girl who
ever said no to _me_."

"Casanova, huh?"

"No, cocksure."

She reluctantly smiled.

"Turn around," I said after a moment. "I'll wash your hair." It
was something I used to do for Gina, and it always made her feel
better.

Wren groaned in pleasure as my fingers dug into her scalp. After
several minutes I began massaging her shoulders. I continued down
her arms, improvising as I went. Then I massaged the small of her
back and worked my way back up. By the time I returned to her
shoulders, she was far more relaxed. And thoughtful.

"What made you stop last night?" she asked.

I blinked at the question. "Do you really want to know?"

"I think so."

I'd thought of Kendall, but I didn't want to tell her that.

"It was Kendall, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, sorry. Your pubic hair tickled my nose."

She started to ask a question, but then remembered. "That's
right... Kendall shaves, doesn't she?"

"Yeah."

"Why did that bother you?"

"It didn't bother me. It was just... different."

"Weren't you the guy with two girlfriends?"

"Just one... now," I said. "Besides, do you _really_ want to be
girlfriend number two?"

"Sorry, no."

"I didn't think so. So we'll have to be just friends. That's
probably a good thing, 'cause I don't have such a great track
record with two girls at once."

"Maybe...," she said, but then shook her head. "Never mind."

We finished our shower in thoughtful silence. I couldn't keep
from brushing against her in the close confines, so I was semi-
hard by the time we turned off the water. Worse, I was going to
have a serious case of blue balls the rest of the day. Still, I
was trying to be a gentleman.

"You know what's the worst part about last night?" I said as we
dried off.

"What?"

"I'll never be able to tell Kendall."

Wren's spirits had picked up after the quiet intimacy in the
shower, and she actually laughed. "Poor Paul," she said. "Such a
nice guy, but no one will ever know." To my surprise, she
actually grew serious. "I will, though, and that means a lot."

"Thanks."

"But I wish you weren't entirely nice, because I really need to
get laid."

"Oh, I'm not _entirely_ nice," I said with a laugh. "You just
haven't found the right way to ask."

She stared in disbelief. "You're going to drive me insane," she
said at last.

"Don't worry, the feeling's mutual."

While I shaved, she stood in front of Erin's sink and combed her
hair. She was still in a thoughtful mood, but a glimmer of
mischief lurked behind her eyes.

She asked to borrow the shaving cream when I finished. Then she
filled the sink basin with hot water and set one foot on the
counter. She lathered her leg and shaved with long, smooth
strokes. I tried not to watch, but she caught me looking when she
changed legs.

I thought she was done when she rinsed the sink, but she filled
it again. Then she used a dollop of shaving cream to lather her
bush. She was watching me out of the corner of her eye, so she
saw my dick twitch as I grew hard again.

"Should I shave completely?" she asked. "Do you think I'd look
good?"

I swallowed hard. Maybe she _had_ found the right way to ask.

"You'll have to test it for me," she continued. "To make sure
it's smooth enough."

"I'm sure you'll do a good job," I rasped. "I don't need to test
it."

Her eyes sparkled. "What fun would that be?"

She began running the razor along the sides of her bush. She
didn't shave completely, but the strip of hair was barely an inch
wide when she finished. She studied the results in the mirror.

"What do you think?" she said.

I managed to utter "Nice," but that was the limit of my coherent
response.

She pulled a small bottle of baby oil from her makeup bag and
spread some on her freshly shaved skin. All of a sudden, she
straightened with an idea. "I know," she said, "let me do you."
It was a complete charade, but I wasn't about to call her on it.

She grabbed the shaving cream and sank to her knees in front of
me.

"Do you shave just the base? Or your balls too?" she asked. "I
couldn't tell last night. Besides, I had other things on my
mind." She examined me. Without even asking, she spread shaving
cream around the base of my dick. "Relax," she said. "I've done
this before."

"_When?_"

"I dated swimmers, remember?" She began shaving me with short,
gentle strokes. She matter-of-factly held my dick out of the way,
her fingers light on my shaft.

I stared down my torso, completely enthralled. She quickly
finished one side, and shifted her grip to the other.

"Do you want me to do your balls too?" she asked. "I think you
might accidentally shoot your wad, but I'm willing to take that
risk." She smiled sweetly. "In the name of personal hygiene, of
course."

"Personal hygiene, huh?"

"So you want me to do it?"

"Yes. _No!_"

"Which?" she said, razor poised.

"No," I finally blurted.

"Suit yourself." She used her towel to clean the leftover shaving
cream. Then she poured some baby oil into her palm.

I knew what she was going to do, but I couldn't stop her. I
couldn't move. My balls felt ready to explode, and my dick was so
hard that it _hurt_. A lot.

She used too much oil, on purpose. Her hands were still slippery
when she finished coating the base of my cock, so she covered the
rest of it. Her breasts swayed as she began stroking me, slow at
first, but faster when I didn't object.

I gripped the counter and tried to steady myself. After a night
of expectations and a morning without jerking off, I didn't know
how long I'd last.

Her oily fingers glided over my shaft, and she murmured
encouragement. My glans swelled and then turned red from the
pressure.

"Come on my tits," she said softly, her eyes aglow.

I came with an explosive grunt. An electric current lashed my
body, and I closed my eyes against the intensity. When I finally
opened them again, I was panting.

"Oh... my... God," Wren said. She was staring at her breasts--her tan
skin was covered with pearly drops of semen. The tip of my dick
was still oozing, and her hand was covered. She even had some in
her hair.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked.

"Is it always like this? Or just because you didn't come last
night?"

I swallowed to clear my cottony mouth. Then I looked at her.
"That's pretty much normal, I guess."

"This much? Every time?"

"Except when I have sex a lot. Then it's less."

"Define 'a lot.'"

I shrugged. "Six or seven times a day."

"_Six or seven...?_ You weren't kidding when you made that crack
about Rosy saying hello twice."

"No. I really did jerk off twice."

"Now I believe it." She shook her head in wonder. "This wasn't
just because you had so much pressure?"

"No. It was more intense, but I don't think I shot any more than
usual." I shrugged. It felt weird to be talking so matter-of-
factly about my orgasm. "Still," I continued, "it's hard to tell.
I mean, I don't usually measure."

She laughed and shook her head again. "No wonder Kendall likes
you to come on her face. She'd drown if you came in her mouth."

"Nah. She swallows."

"She'd have to!" Wren stood and examined herself in the mirror.
Maybe I _had_ come more than usual, but it was hard to tell. "I'm
going to have to take another shower," she said. "And you're
coming with me."

Once in the shower, she rinsed off and then shampooed her hair to
get the semen out. When she rinsed, she turned and looked at me
with intense eyes.

"You owe me," she said.

"For what?"

Instead of answering, she pressed herself against me and kissed
me, hard. Her breasts pressed into my chest, her nipples stiff
with arousal. My body responded automatically, even though my
mind was still reeling.

She turned around and pressed against me, her ass cradling my
still-limp dick. My hands found her breasts and twisted her
nipples. She gasped with pleasure, but pushed one hand toward her
pussy. I didn't even bother teasing her--she was already hot and
wet, and my finger slid into her with ease.

I bent and kissed her neck, but focused on her pussy as my finger
moved within her. She cried out and reached up to steady herself
on my neck. Her fingers dug in, but I ignored the pressure, since
I could already feel the first tremors of her orgasm.

I began circling her clit, my fingers in overdrive. She urged me
on with a steady stream of cries. I twisted and tugged her
nipple, her hand covering mine as she held on for dear life.

When I felt the contractions in her pussy, I sank my finger into
her slippery channel. I crooked the tip and tried to press her G-
spot. The angle was wrong, but it still sent her over the edge,
and she cried out as her body went rigid.

The shower finally ran cold as we were catching our breath. Wren
reached between her legs and gingerly pulled my finger from
within her. Then she stretched across the shower to turn it off.
When she straightened, she sagged against me.

"Thanks," she said. "I needed that."

-----

We went to one of her father's restaurants for brunch. We were
both starving, so we hardly talked as we ate. When the waiter
finally cleared our plates, Wren sagged against me and sighed in
content.

"That was the best, worst birthday of my life," she said. She
felt me tense to ask a question, and waved it away. "It was the
worst because... well... you know," she said. "We don't need to
relive it."

"No kidding."

"And it was the best because... well... you know that, too."

"So which was it?" I asked.

She paused. "The best, probably."

"Even though we didn't... you know?"

"Maybe _because_ we didn't. Anticipation makes it better. You
know?" She turned and gazed up at me. "I haven't come like that
in a long time."

"Me neither," I admitted, and we lapsed into a comfortable
silence.

"Do you want to hang out at my house?" she said at last. "My
dad's at work, and my mom goes to the spa on Sundays, so we'll
have the house to ourselves. We could go swimming or something.
Maybe lay out. What time do you have to be back?"

"Sunset."

"What time is that?"

I called up a memory of the weather report. "18:29 in Franklin."

"In English, please?"

"Six thirty," I said. "The flight's about ninety minutes, but I
need some extra time, just to be safe. So... about two hours."

"You need to leave by four thirty?"

I shook my head. "Franklin's an hour behind Atlanta, so that's
five thirty local." We looked at our watches.

"That still gives us a couple of hours," she said.

-----

Wren's house was empty and quiet when we arrived. We set our
things on the kitchen table and headed for the patio. The yard
was smaller than I thought it'd be, but it had a privacy fence so
the neighbors couldn't see in.

"I hope it's cool if I don't wear a suit," Wren said. "I'm
practically a nudist."

I chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"I _am_ a nudist," I said. She thought I was mocking her. "I'm
serious," I continued. "My family's at a nudist camp right now.
I'd be there myself if I didn't have to work." I shrugged. "Why
do you think no one's ever home when we spend the night at my
house?"

"I knew they were on vacation, but... a nudist camp?"

"Yep."

"I always wondered why you didn't have tan lines," she said. "Now
I know." She laughed. "No wonder you don't react the way most
guys do."

"How's that?"

"Most guys go nuts over a naked woman, but you're so cool. It's a
little unnerving."

I laughed.

"It is," she insisted. She shook her head. "God, you really are
Mysterious."

"And you really are Beautiful."

We shed our clothes and dived into the pool. It was bigger than
Trip's, with an irregular shape at the deep end. A waterfall
cascaded over some large rocks and then into the pool itself. The
waterfall was part of the return system, and made the pool seem
more natural.

We swam for a while, and I got my biggest surprise of the
afternoon: Wren was a much better swimmer. Kendall and Gina had
never been strong swimmers, so I could easily outpace them. Mom
and Erin were good in the water, but I was still faster. Wren
left me in her wake. Easily.

I probably shouldn't have been surprised--she'd been a
competitive swimmer, after all--but I'm ashamed to say that I
simply didn't expect her to be so good. I didn't like to admit
that I might be sexist, but the evidence was hard to deny. With a
dark chuckle, I realized that I'd have to revise my thinking
before I embarrassed myself.

"What's the matter?" Wren asked, breaking my train of thought.

"You'd laugh if I told you."

She swam toward me and easily coasted into my arms. Her body was
sleek and lithe, muscular but soft. I gave her a practiced leer.

"Too late," she said. "You had your chance."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, the eyebrow thing won't work, no matter how cute I think
it is." She yawned theatrically. "I got my rocks off. I don't
need you anymore."

We burst into laughter, and she kissed me playfully. Then she
pushed off and swam away. I didn't have a hope of keeping up, so
I followed at a more sedate pace. She climbed out of the pool,
her tanned body slick with water as she stood above me. I joined
her a moment later, the concrete warm under my feet.

We hauled a pair of chaise lounges to the edge of the pool and
placed them side by side, facing each other. Then we stretched
out to dry in the sun.

"What's it like at a nudist camp?" she asked after a while.

I told her about it, and tried not to laugh when she had the
usual misconceptions.

"So it's not sex all the time?" she said.

I shook my head, which was a little white lie.

"And the guys aren't all bodybuilders with big dicks?" She
gestured at me for emphasis.

I laughed. "Um... no."

"Still," she said, "it sounds like fun."

"You'll have to come with me sometime."

"What will Kendall say?"

I chuckled, but without much humor.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Wren said, "but your
relationship can't be all that good."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're a nice guy," she said, "so you wouldn't be fooling around
with me if things were good between you and Kendall."

_But you don't know that I'm a swinger,_ I thought. _And that I
want to have a threesome with you and Kendall. But still, you've
got a point._

"What I mean is, most guys don't go looking somewhere else if
they're getting what they want at home." To my surprise, she
snorted derisively.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Back to you and Kendall. Do you know what
the problem is?"

I shrugged. "Yes and no. We just don't seem to... connect...
anymore."

"Sex?"

"Uh-uh. Believe it or not, that's great. Never better, actually.
Just not enough." I explained about Kendall's studying and my
work. "But when we get together, it's wild. I mean, _really_ wild
sometimes."

"I'll bet," she said under her breath.

"It's not the sex," I continued as though I hadn't heard her.
"It's everything else. For instance, we talked every night last
week, but I couldn't tell you a single thing she said. I just
don't care." I shrugged in frustration, but continued. "I
remember everything you said the last time we were together, but
I can't remember what Kendall said two days ago. How's that for
screwed up? It's like she has her own life, and I have mine. We
only get together when we're horny."

"That _is_ screwed up."

I shrugged. "Yes and no," I said. "But I do feel guilty
sometimes. I mean, just sitting here with you feels more like
cheating than everything we did last night."

She tilted her head with an unspoken question.

"We're connecting," I said. "I know it sounds like some New Age
crap, but it's true. I actually _care_ about this conversation.
And you care about me and my life. It's not like that with
Kendall. I mean, sometimes it seems like _Gina_ cares more than
Kendall."

"Gina? You still talk to her?"

"Yeah. She's... she's like my best friend. We write each other all
the time. At least once a week. She sends me these three- and
four-page letters, telling me about her life. I don't get squat
from Kendall, unless she wants sex. I know this is gonna sound
crazy, especially from a guy, but I'm a little tired of being a
sex object."

Wren laughed, but then grew silent when she realized I was
serious. "Have you talked to her about it?"

"I tried. I thought it worked, too, but it didn't. When I asked
her to spend the week with me, she made up a hundred excuses. And
I wanted to spend this weekend with her, but she's off with her
family, visiting some sick aunt in the hospital."

"You can't really blame her for _that_," Wren said.

"Well, no," I admitted, "but still. She could've invited me with
her or something. Her family has this big RV, so it's not like
they don't have room."

"Maybe her parents...?"

I shook my head. "They know we're sleeping together."

"There's a difference between knowing something and having it
happen under your nose," Wren said.

"Yeah, okay. We could've slept in different beds, though. But she
didn't even invite me, so it's a moot point."

"I see what you mean." She paused to consider. "Do you think
it'll get any better when we're back at school?"

"I hope so. We'll have more time together, that's for sure."

She nodded. "I wish I could tell you how to fix it, but..." She
laughed. "Listen to me."

"What?"

"Last night I wanted to have sex with you, but now I'm trying to
fix things with your girlfriend. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," I said softly.

She looked at me, her eyes searching.

I shrugged. "You're a good friend. That's why we're sitting here
in the buff, talking about life."

She snorted softly. "When we first started talking to you,
Christy told me you were the coolest guy she'd ever met. I
thought she was crazy. That's why I flirted with you so much--I
was trying to prove a point. You were just a guy, I said. But
maybe she was right after all."

"I _am_ just a guy," I said, my voice soft.

"You're not like any guy _I've_ ever met."

I shrugged. "Get to know me better. I'm selfish and insecure.
Immature, sometimes." I laughed ruefully. "I worry about things
too much. I'm a bit slow on the uptake. And I tend to think with
my dick." I shook my head. "No. Get to know me. You'll see that
I'm not so special after all."

"I think you are."

I barked a laugh. "You just want to have sex with me. You'll say
anything."

Tears filled her eyes and she turned wistful. "No." She wiped her
cheeks and forced a smile. "You had your shot with me. It wasn't
that good."

"That's not what you said this morning."

We shared a laugh, but it was sad, too.

"C'mon," I said, "let's go for a swim. Things got heavy all of a
sudden."

"Too heavy."

We swam for a while, which cheered her up. I watched her dart
through the water, graceful and confident, playful, completely at
ease. When she finally pinned me against the wall in the shallow
end, she seemed like a different person.

"So, what are the rules?" she said.

I tried not to look as puzzled as I felt.

It didn't work. She said, "We can't have sex, obviously, but what
else is off-limits?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Well... sex," I said at last.
"You know, regular, oral, anal."

"I'd have to be _really_ drunk before I'd want sex back there."

"You mean like last night?" I teased.

She grimaced. "You're too big anyway. No way I'm letting you
anywhere near my butt with that thing." We shared a grin. "So
what else is off-limits?" she asked. "Kissing? Touching?"

I should've said yes, but I didn't want to. Besides, we'd already
done more. I wanted to do everything, but that would definitely
be cheating. Still, as long as we didn't have sex...

"I guess kissing would be all right," I said at last.

Her eyes flashed and she pressed her lips against mine. I pulled
her close, and her slick breasts flattened against my chest. Her
nipples were stiff from more than the water. She touched my cheek
with her hand and looked into my eyes. Then she smiled, and her
eyelids drooped for another kiss.

We were panting when she finally pulled back. With a grin, she
wiggled her hips. My hard-on was trapped between us, and I began
to worry.

She patted the coping. "Sit here."

I hoisted myself up, and felt the warmth of the concrete seep
into my legs.

She made a show of wrapping her fingers around my cock. "You
really do have a beautiful dick," she said. She began stroking,
her fingers tight around my girth. "I probably shouldn't tell you
this, but Christy is totally in love with it."

"With my dick?"

She nodded.

"She has a secret sketchbook," she continued. "I'm the only one
who's seen it." She stroked gently, her eyes glued to my manhood.
She was enjoying the show as much as the story.

"She has this thing about guys' dicks," she continued. "She
really likes 'em. More than I do, actually. She draws them all
the time."

I felt my eyes widen, but I didn't interrupt.

"She has her first boyfriend in there. She has other guys, too,
although she won't tell me who some of them are." Wren looked up
and met my eyes. "And she has you, of course."

My voice was casual, but my question was anything but. "Oh?"

Wren nodded. "She said you got a hard-on the first day you
modeled. She came back to the dorm after class and immediately
started drawing you. I was practically drooling when I saw it.
Your dick, I mean." She laughed. "Christy was so horny afterward.
We... um... we did it right there on her bed. Usually, I start
things, but that time she practically attacked me."

My dick grew even harder, and Wren smiled as she felt it. She
continued stroking me, her pace deliberate.

"I wouldn't even tell you this, except..." She gestured at my dick
without looking up. "I think we're beyond the point of 'just
friends.' You know?"

"Yeah," I rasped.

"Anyway, Christy has pictures of Simon in her book, of course.
He's just average. Not bad looking, but not great, either. And
not nearly as big as you."

I smiled a secret smile--Simon was Christy's fianc�, and Wren
didn't like him. I'd never met him, but I wasn't very impressed
by what I'd heard.

"I counted pictures one day," Wren continued, "while Christy was
in class. Simon has three. Do you know how many you have?"

I tried to sound casual: "How many?"

"_Fourteen._"

My eyes flew wide.

"Yeah. That's more than any other guy, except one. He's one of
the ones Christy won't tell me about."

"And they're just pictures of dicks?" I said.

Wren shrugged. "Mostly. Some are pictures of whole guys, but
they're always nude. I thought it was weird at first, especially
since we were... you know."

"Lovers," I said.

"Yeah, that." She looked up, her eyes round with worry. "You know
I'm not a lesbian, right? Yeah, Christy and I fool around, but
that's just for fun. I mean, I like guys."

"I know." I glanced at my dick, pointedly, and she laughed.

"My mom worries about me. It's why she wants me to have a
boyfriend. Just because _she's_... um... I mean, never mind."

I wondered what she'd been about to say, but she plowed ahead.

"But when Christy and I started fooling around, I thought she was
girl-only. I knew girls like that on the swim team. You know? So
I thought it was weird that she had a sketchbook full of guys'
dicks.

"But then I got to know her better, and realized that she's
_seriously_ into guys. She has fun with me, but I think it's more
like stress relief." She shrugged. "The same as me. I mean,
Christy's my best friend, but I can't imagine life without a
guy."

_Thank God,_ I said silently. Her fingers were starting to work
their magic.

"Anyway, I think she's obsessed or something. With you,
especially. But I gotta admit, she does have nice taste in men."
She shook her head in amazement. "You _really_ have a gorgeous
dick." She looked up. "Will you come on my tits again?"

"Sure." Who was I to refuse?

She nodded and returned to her story. "I don't know why I told
you all that." She looked up. "Um... keep the sketchbook to
yourself. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Thanks." She chuckled ironically. "Now I know what you mean
about not being able to tell Kendall. Just like I can't tell
Christy about today. She'd be jealous, I think, even though she
doesn't think of you that way. Weird, though, that she'd spend so
much time drawing a guy who's 'just a friend.'" She paused and
studied my manhood.

"In real life, you're bigger than she draws you," she said. "And
she doesn't quite get the head right. Maybe it's 'cause she's
only seen you hard that one time." She laughed. "She definitely
doesn't know how much you shoot." She paused and studied a drop
of pre-come. "Is it really that much every time?"

"Keep stroking and you'll see," I said. It was cheesy, but true.

She moved closer and aimed my dick at her chest. Then she
increased her pace.

"Get ready," I said, my voice tight from holding back.

She cried out when I splashed her right breast with a jet of
semen. She covered her left breast with the next spurt, and then
aimed the last two at her cleavage. When I finally stopped
gushing, she used my dick to spread the white liquid over her
nipples.

"Wow," she said at last. "You weren't kidding."

-----

Wren followed me when I returned my dad's Corvette to the house.
Then she drove me to the airport. We were running late, but
neither of us wanted to say goodbye.

She walked with me as I preflighted the plane, so I showed her
what I was doing with each check. Unfortunately, I was running
out of daylight.

As I turned to say goodbye, she stepped into my arms and gave me
a sound kiss. She smiled when she pulled back.

"Thank you for my bracelet," she said. "And thank you for the
best birthday of my life." She stepped back a half-pace, a spark
of mischief in her eye. Then she giggled and lifted her shirt.
"My tits thank you too."

I'd seen them less than an hour before, but I still paused to
admire her. She lowered her shirt, and I gazed into her laughing
hazel eyes.

"Thanks for everything," she said with another hug.

"You're welcome. I got the better end of the bargain, though."

"You bet you did!" She made a move for her shirt. "You wanna see
'em again?"

I laughed. "Sure."

She flashed me.

I laughed again and pulled her into my arms. Her nipples
stiffened under the thin fabric. We kissed again, friendly and
warm and lingering. When we separated, I glanced at my watch and
silently hoped for a tailwind.

"I know," she said. "You need to go."

"Yeah, sorry."

She stood on tiptoe and kissed me again. "Call me when you get
home. Okay?"

I nodded. She stepped back and I climbed into the plane. It was
all I could do not to hurry through the engine start checklist. I
knew it by heart, but I told myself to slow down.

Wren watched as I put on my headset and checked the weather
update. Then I talked to Ground Control and got taxi clearance. I
waved to her one last time, but then I had to concentrate on taxi
and takeoff.

Wren was still standing in front of the FBO when I lifted off. I
waggled the wings, and she flashed me in reply.

I think I grinned all the way home.

-----

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