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#Interracial #Teen
By Manny Peddy
Our narrator continues to explore, both with his family and in his own life.
I felt a lot better at school that Monday; I realized Eugene really had done me a great favor. I had gotten kinda blocked in my plan, wondering what to do next, but now I realized that I was, as Ms. Ritenour would say in Art, working with a wider palette than before. Even though Maddie hadn’t been the hardest push in the world, I was now convinced that if I applied myself I could make just about anything happen and, if I couldn’t make it happen yet, I could back and reload, so to speak. I also realized that my prime goal, to make people commit humiliating sex acts while thinking it was their own ideas, urges, and personal weakness and wear that shame, was much easier than I had imagined.
I didn’t start fucking Maddie morning, noon, and night. I had no interest in stealing quickies; I wanted more like that weekend, the whole taking-my-time thing. I did however, make sure and manipulate her recall when we were in the room together; I made sure she remembered swallowing my cum, tongue-kissing me, and feeling my ass-crack while she washed me. That one really gave her the willies.
I also moved forward in my other gambit, Cam and Karli. They had continued their vividly imagined beat-off sessions, but I thought it was time to take the next step and to make it really kinky. I sketched out a rough plan in my mind, then waited for the time to make it happen.
It happened pretty quickly. We had Family Movie Night (yeah, in all caps) twice a month; Craig would pick some stupid movie about orphans in the Great Depression or some such shit and make us all watch it in the basement theater room. He thought it built good values and family togetherness or something. I think the particular movie that he was showing that night was about a dog that was pulling a sled or traveling halfway across America to find its owner, whatever. Let me set the scene for you.
The basement theater room is boss. The TV is, like, a hundred inches across and the room has a six-speaker Dolby system. We all have our own individual recliners; there’s even a popcorn machine and sodas off to one side. We all get settled in our chairs; we have fleece throws and whatever refreshment we want, then Craig kills the lights and starts the movie. Cam often has to take a ‘pee break’ early in the movie; what that means is that he’s going to go jack off in the downstairs bathroom. He stands in front of the mirror looking at his hard-on and thinking or Hayley or Karli or, lately, Hayley and Karli, and before long, he shoots a load into the sink. I knew this, but most of the time I ignored it, because being stuck watching the movie was bad enough.
That night, though, I had a plan, and when Cam got up, I was ready. He went into the bathroom, pulled down his gym shorts and underwear, and began jacking it. That’s when I stepped in; I basically turned off the faucet, so to speak, leaving Cam with a throbbing, vein-swollen boner that he stroked furiously, but just could not get to ejaculate. It was kinda funny by itself, but after fisting his bishop for six or seven minutes, Cam’s ba;;s were aching and he decided that something was wrong and he wasn’t going to be able to cum. He let go of his dick and yanked up his jockey shorts, and that’s when I opened the tap and he blasted an enormous wad of goo into his tighty whities. I really squeezed his prostate and he unloaded like he was beating off with both hands. He stood there for a minute, slack-jawed, then stripped off his underwear and dropped them into the laundry hamper, grabbed a hand towel from the pantry, and cleaned the rest of his semen off his crotch before dropping it into the hamper as well. Cam then pulled up his gym shorts and came back to watch the movie, his dick and balls swinging free.
I waited a few minutes, then pressed on Karli’s bladder. I think the damn dog had just figured out its master was gone when she went into the bathroom. She pulled down her panties and peed. She was cleaning herself when I drew her attention to the laundry. She noticed something on top of the hamper and that’s how she found herself holding Cam’s cum-loaded jockey shorts. I pushed hard on her arousal centers as she stared at the glistening cock-slime and, when she was good and juicy, I inserted one question:
What would it taste like?
And that’s how my sister Karli ended up with her panties around her ankles and Cam’s shorts stuffed in her mouth as she sucked his pecker pudding out of the fabric. It’s a good thing she was still still on the toilet; her climax was wet enough that it was almost like she was peeing again. She shivered as she felt his cold jizz slide down her throat (I gotta tell you, I got hard when that happened). When she had drawn every possible drop of cum from his tighty whities, I eased back and let her think about what she had done. She was mortified; she couldn’t that underwear back in the hamper fast enough. I had to make sure I didn’t laugh as I ‘watched’ her brush her teeth with her finger and gargle about ten times. She slunk back into the theater room and sat down in her chair. After she was settled, I hit her with a double whammy: I triggered her memory of cramming Cam’s shorts into her mouth while I nudged her clit, and then I put the thought in her mind that Maddie suspected she had done something nasty. Maddie didn’t, of course; she was watching the movie, but I wanted Karli to think that somebody suspected her of being a complete degenerate. I watched the rest of the movie, but I kept a channel open (so to speak) to watch Karli squirm, mortified and a little turned on and sure that someone suspected what a degenerate thing she had just done. When the flick was over, she raced up the steps. By the time the rest of us were upstairs, Karli had already showered and was in her pjs and robe; you could smell the minty mouthwash from ten feet away.
After everyone was in bed, I looked at the ceiling and went over what I had done. It felt pretty good. I wasn’t really sleepy, then I realized that I was a little horny from the night’s events. Previously, I would have just jerked off, but now… I checked; everyone else was asleep, so I got up, tiptoed out of my room, and slipped into Maddie’s. She was asleep on her back with her head turned toward the door. Lucky me. I closed the door behind me, then walked across the carpet and shook her shoulder. Maddie blinked a couple of times, then, by the light filtering through her curtains, saw me standing beside her bed with my hard dick sticking out. She just opened her mouth and let me slip my peen inside, then closed her lips. I wasn’t doing any throat-fucking or anything; I wanted to actually feel her sucking on my cock like a lollipop. She nursed on my pulsing rod for a few minutes, then I sighed and let my cum squirt into her mouth. I only produced a medium load (didn’t want to make a mess) and she opened her mouth to let me take out my dick and display my seed coating her tongue, then swallowed. I went back to bed and slept like a rock.
****
Eugene was involved in the next development as well. This time, he didn’t make any comments, he just got in the way of Yazz Taylor.
Yasmin Taylor is one of the older girls in our class; she’s already fifteen. She’s always telling people how she’ll be the first one to get a driver’s license. She was also the earliest bloomer in our class; she got C-cup tits in the eighth grade. I know this because Yazz (she decided to got by ‘Yazz’ because it’s “halfway between Yass and Jazz”) spent the last quarter of the year telling every girl that she was a 36C-23-34. The guys heard it, too, but specific measurements weren’t necessary to see that Yazz had gotten her boobs and hips.
Yazz is biracial: her dad is Black and her mom is Asian. Yazz inherited good hair; she can wear it in long curls or, with just a little work, in a long, straight fall. She has skin the color of peanut butter, almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and is almost as good-looking as she thinks she is. She’s a little taller than me, but like I said before I’m kinda short.
Anyway, I was feeling, I don’t what the word would be, not exactly ‘confident’ after my movie night adventure with Cam and Karli, but I was definitely full of myself. I had gotten my sister and step-brother involved in a hideous kinky act orchestrated by me and neither of them knew it was me. Karli was sure Maddie suspected what had happened (I know she didn’t; I’m the one who put the idea in Karli’s head) and couldn’t look her or Cam in the eye, but her shame didn’t prevent her from juicing her panties when she thought about it, which she often did (again, courtesy of me). I was feeling pretty, I guess the word would be invincible when Eugene made the mistake of closing his locker door on his sleeve. He didn’t notice, his arm caught and got yanked back, and everything he was carrying got dumped in the floor, and since he was zipping up his backpack when it happened, that was a lot of stuff. He made a grab for his backpack, forgot his shirt was stuck, and ended up slamming into the locker next to his. He bounced off and that’s when his shirt came loose and he ended up on his ass in the hall, surrounded by whatever was in his backpack.
My locker is across the hall and about ten lockers down, so I saw the whole thing. It was, honestly, pretty funny, right out in front of everybody and everything, and everbody was laughing but trying not to laugh, you know, but then I heard “Nice trip, spazz?”
I looked over and there was Yazz and the Yazettes, her three backup singers, so to speak (don’t worry about their names now; you might get to know them better later). Yazz stood with her hands on her hips and sneer on her lips as she looked down at my friend. Her trio of suck-ups laughed on cue. Now, it’s one thing for me to laugh at Eugene; I’ve laughed at him before and he’s laughed at me. That’s part of being friends. Yazz was not Eugene’s friend.
Timing’s a funny thing. If I hadn’t already had evidence of my powers, I probably wouldn’t have done anything. I certainly wouldn’t have stepped away from my locker and said, “Hey, stop it.” Oh, do I need to mention that I pushed pretty good? They shut up, which I expected because, hey, I made my sister suck my step-brother’s cum out of his jockey shorts. How hard could this be, right? What ticked my interest is that the trio of tramps shut mostly because Yazz shut up. That was something.
Yazz looked at me and made a disgusted sound. “Who do you think you are?”
I was a little pissed, so I said, “I’m his friend, and I think you should apologize to him.”
“As if,” Yazz said and tossed her head. For a split-second, I wondered if my powers had failed, then she scowled and said, “Whatever. Sorry, you freak.”
Hey, I didn’t specify what type of apology so… but I wasn’t going to let Yazz get away with that. “That wasn’t cool.”
“Oooooh,” Yazz drawled. “Maybe you want to talk to me about it after school.”
Oh, an opening. “Sure,” I said. “How about the baseball field?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I’m going to meet you after school at the baseball field. Do I look stupid?”
“Okay, you got me.” I shrugged and started helping Eugene pick up his stuff. Yazz and her toadies giggled and walked away. I watched her ass sway and thought about what could happen after school.
When the bell rang, I scooted out of the building and over to the baseball field. The field is on a lot that butts up against the back of the school and is surrounded by a chain-link fence, but there are two openings next to each dugout. The dugouts are roofed and covered on the back and one side. If you are in the third-base dugout, you can see anyone approaching from the school. That’s where I was, sitting on the bench and waiting, when I saw Yazz coming down the sidewalk.
She wore leggings that basically looked like red spray paint under an oversized sweatshirt and a jacket with red body and white leather sleeves (school colors). Her shoes were absolutely perfectly white sneakers. Her backpack was from some fancy-ass outdoor gear company. She got to the fence and stopped, looking around, so I nudged her on around the corner. I lost sight of her as she passed behind the dugout, but then her face appeared through the cutout in the fence. I waved.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I said.
“I wanted to see what you were doing,” she said, “weirdo.”
“Well, it’s not what I’m doing, it’s what you should be doing.”
“Oh, really?” Yazz put one hand on a cocked hip. I saw that her nail polish was the same red as her leggings and the sleeves of her jacket. “And what should I be doing, dummy?”
“You should be nicer to my friend, Eugene.”
“Is that his name?” Yazz shook her head. “Anything else you think I should do?”
“Yeah.” I stood up from the bench and took two steps toward her. “I think you should undo my pants, take out my dick, and jerk me off.”
“The hell?” She looked at me like I was crazy; I just shrugged and waited. Yazz shook her head and stepped to me. Her hands went down and I felt her fingers undoing my belt and the button on my jeans, then she pulled down the zipper before tugging down the wasteband of my shorts and setting my dick free. It popped out, already hard and leaking precum. Yazz went “Ugh” and looked grossed-out, but her hand stayed down there and I felt her soft fingers close around my stiff pecker. It was a little chilly in the shadows of the dugout, but Yazz’s hands were warm and she seemed to know her way around a handjob. Her grip was firm but not too tight and the dickslop that had already oozed out of my piss-slit provided good lubrication. Every four or five strokes she’d run her thumb over the tip of my cock-head, which felt amazing. It was also funny, because she seemed to think this was a sure-fire way to get me off; instead, I just stood there with my hands in my back pockets. She stared off to her left, looking out at the baseball field, and while I could have made her keep eye contact with me, her trying to ignore what she was doing made me harder. My balls started to hurt, so I decided it was time to launch. I dialed up the amount (not difficult, since I’d been holding back since the minute she grabbed my schlong) but kept the force low, so that instead of squirting up into the air between us, a thick, creamy load bubbled out of my sperm worm and flowed over her hand. By the time I was finished, her entire right hand was coated with the gooey residue of my manhood. She stepped back, my protein plasma dripping from her fingers. She raised her right hand to sling it off, but I put an alternative thought in her mind. As I shook off my dick, tucked it back in my underwear, and zipped up, Yazz Taylor raised her hand to her mouth and began licking my nut butter off her hand. It was a big, thick load, so at first she was slurping it off like licking frosting off a butter knife. When the easy stuff was gone, I had her show me the mouthful of spooge before she swallowed. She choked a little, but got it down, then used her tongue to clean between her fingers. She finished by sucking each of her fingers individually until her hand was wet and clean. She looked at me, her expression disgusted.
“You’re nasty,” she said.
“Hey, I’m not the one walking out of here with a bellyful of sperm,” I said. Yass huffed and spun on her hell to stalk out of the dugout. I let her get to the end of the enclosure before I said, “Hey, Yazz.”
She turned. “What, you jerk?”
I grinned. “Homecoming’s in a couple of weeks. I’d kinda like to go to the dance, but I don’t have a date.”
Yazz scowled. “So?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I thought it might be nice if you asked me to be your date. Like, tomorrow, when I come in to the lobby, you could call me over and ask me to take you to the dance.”
Yazz scoffed. “As if,” she said and marched out of the dugout, head high and hand still damp.
“Yeah,” I said. “As if.”
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By Manny Peddy
#Interracial #Teen
