Gender: N/A Age: N/A Location: N/A
Peter watched as his girlfriend Rebecca walked out onto the track for her mile run. She looked out of place among the tall, long-legged young women on the starting line. Her compact, wiry body was dwarfed by her competitors, and she looked vaguely soft, like a couch potato with a high metabolism, not a trace of muscle showing on the skin exposed by her shorts and tank top. Except for her shoulder-length black hair, done up in a ponytail, she could easily be mistaken for a boy. As it was, a casual observer had to wonder what she was doing running in a race that she was so obviously going to lose.
Until the casual observer saw her eyes. Nondescript brown, sparkling with confidence, slightly bulging above a small nose and a thin mouth with a small smile, blazing next to the frowns of those competitors who had met her before and the confident grins of those who had not. Seeing her face, the casual observer might doubt.
"Your girlfriend's hot," a voice said from beside him, breaking into his reverie. Peter sighed and turned to see Jacob Erikson leaning sideways againt the fence. A large young man, quite obviously a football player, leered at Rebecca, with his body turned to Peter. "You need to do her before she looks for someone else. She needs a good banging, maybe I could have a chat with her." He laughed and hitched up his pants.
Peter scowled, and said quietly, "Eyes front- and don't talk that way about her, or I'll tell her what you said about Emily. What was it, 'there's an ass I'd like to bang'? And I didn't think freshmen were your thing. Getting a little desperate?" Jacob's normally tanned skin turned stark white at this, and the thought of Rebecca's wrath. She was very protective of her little sister, and the one boy who hadn't taken 'no' for an answer had had to spend a long time in the hospital with a shattered tailbone and hip, and would probably never have children after he 'fell down a flight of stairs.' Naturally, there were no witnesses. Rebecca had no problem with boys or girls dating her sister, as long as they were the right people, and anyone who hurt Emily had better start looking for a deep, deep hole, or a good health-insurance plan. Peter knew Jacob was not on the list of 'right people.'
Jacob stammered, "I didn't mean- how did you know about- Oh please don't tell- I'll do any-" but Peter cut him off.
"I won't tell her- IF you go away. Now. And stay away from Emily. You don't have a chance with her anyway, even if Rebecca wasn't around to protect her." His voice was almost a whisper. Jacob turned and walked away quickly. Peter turned his attention back to Rebecca and saw that she was looking in his direction, smiling her small smile. She grinned and blew him a kiss. He flashed her a thumbs-up and touched his lips, and then his brow in an ironic salute. She nodded and started stretching, smiling her little smile, something completely and totally Rebecca, as if to say, "I am who I am. Got a problem with that?" Which was a lot to convey in a smile, but even those who met her for the first time knew what it meant.
Rebecca took her place at the starting line, and the gun cracked, and she was off, with an easy, ground-eating-lope. Peter frowned briefly as he thought of where she had learned to run like that, but banished the thought and the frown as another voice spoke behind him.
"I saw you and Jacob. Thanks." Emily said as she stepped forward and joined him at the fence. She and her sister looked like twins rather than siblings- same hair, same eyes, but Emily was quite obviously muscular with her swimmer's physique. Her girlfirend Jennifer, a short, plump, blonde with a killer figure, joined them, and the girls shared a quick kiss. Peter smiled down at them.
"Hi. He needed to be shot down, and soon, before he does something stupid, and the squad loses another lineman."
"Seems a little more than that. Did he hit a little too close to home? Sorry," she added as Peter frowned, and Emily shook her head.
"Sorry. She really loves you, you know."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure I want to go that far. Her demons seem to be gone, but I'm a little afraid for her," he replied in a low voice.
"They are. Trust me on this. She'll wait for as long as you need, but she's a little impatient. She's probably going to ask again after the meet, but she knows what to expect. But I really don't need you to protect me."
"Your sister asked me to keep an eye on you. Besides, that was a bogus threat anyway. Rebecca knows what he said."
"Really?" Emily looked surprised.
"Really. She overheard too, at the same time I did. She's not going to do anything about what he said, but if he so much as twitches out of line, we're both going to come down on him."
"Or you could tell the school."
"The school didn't do anything about your father. She doesn't trust it, you know that. Sorry." Peter added, as the old shadows came up in Emily's eyes. Their father had not been a kind man before he was sent to prison, but at least he would never be coming out- he'd fallen down his own flight of stairs within a week of going in.
"It's ok. I've still got my own issues with... that, but I'm still afraid that she'll get in trouble."
"There are professional boxers who your sister could beat into pulp, and as for official trouble, she's aware of that. She won't do that again- not unless it's called for. I'm also a little afraid to... hurt her."
"Rebecca can take it. We've talked about it, and even if you do hurt her, she'll know it to be accidental- she knows you."
"What do you think of Rebecca's chances?" Jennifer asked, changing the subject before Peter could say something stupid.
Peter nodded, tacitly thanking Jennifer for her thinking. "Duh, no question. First."
They turned back to watch the race. Rebecca was just finishing her second lap, in a comfortable fourth, husbanding her energy and keeping her main competitors in sight.
Peter came to a decision.
Another lap went by, and one of the top three dropped back, unable to maintain her speed, and Rebecca moved up into third place, looking tired and winded. The triumvirate standing at the fence knew the act- Rebecca ran marathons every chance she got, and no little mile race was going to beat her, and with half a lap to go, she dropped her act, exploding into a blurring sprint. She raced past her last two rivals and exploded across the finish line in front of Peter's eyes. She smiled her little smile and strode over to the panel, not even breathing hard, and accepted her ribbon and a bottle of water. After her last chaser had crossed the finish line and the crowd of spectators began to disperse, she strode over to the fence, through the gate to Peter's left, and jumped into his waiting arms, planting a passionate kiss on his lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He felt her body through her clothes- her temperature was little warmer than normal, and he could feel the muscles through her clothes. "I love you," she whispered, "and after I take the drug test, you want to come to my place, and take a bath?" She looked into his eyes, fully expecting him to decline.
He quietly whispered, "Yes." Her eyebrows flew up, and she kissed him again, squeezing his waist with her legs in a signal. He loosened his own embrace enough for her to drop to the concrete. She turned to the grinning Emily and Jennifer, and they offered their own congratulations. Rebecca grinned, and strode away for her drug tests. The judges looked like they were expecting her to fail, but they were going to be surprised- Rebecca was all Rebecca, and she didn't NEED drugs.
"Well, we'll see you at home," Emily said, taking Jennifer's arm and smiling at her. The two threaded their way through the crowd, and Peter shook his head, grinning, as Rebecca found her way back, and she asked, "Ready to go?"
Peter said, "Yes."
They walked to Rebecca's house, talking of small things- their impending graduation, colleges- both agreed to go to the local four-year college- and classes. They came to Rebecca's house, a large two-story house with a pool sheltered under tinted glass form the harsh Michiganian winters. They entered, with Peter only having a vague recollection of the rooms that they passed through on their way to the bathroom. They came into the bathroom clutching each other, kissing passionately, and Rebecca pushed the door shut, and broke their embrace long enough to set up the bathtub, and a thought occured to Peter. "Damn, I forgot a condom," he said. Rebecca laughed.
"It's OK. Just about the only good thing Dad gave me was a contraceptive implant. Really effective." She stepped toward him as the tub began to fill, and kissed him again, running her hands over his chest. God, she wanted him bad. She ran her hands down his chest, down to the hem of his shirt, and she pulled it up and off of him. She stepped back, pulling him with her, and she guided his hands to the hem of her own tank top, and he got the hint.
They undressed each other slowly as the bathtub filled with water and the room filled with steam, and she motioned for him to get into the tub first. He got in and sat down, his back to the narrow end of the tub, and she climbed in, wincing a little at the temperature. She straddled him and kissed him deeply, and when they came up for air, she looked at him, and felt his hard cock against her belly, and her blood froze as his face transformed into her father's, she remembered his body thrusting against her, his hands pushing her hips up and down, the pain in her secret place, through the years, stealing her virginity in this very tub. She shook her head, fighting the memory, and clutching Peter.
Peter didn't know what caused Rebecca to react that way, but he could guess. He held her to him, not restricting her but comforting her, and letting her know she could get away from him any time. She clutched him tighter and buried her face in his collarbone, sobbing so hard her whole body shook, and he stroked her hair and whispered meaningless soothing noises in her ear. He used one of his hands to pick up the bar of soap, and rubbed the lather all over her back. She had once complained of feeling dirty during a flashback, and he thought it might soothe her.
Eventually her sobs subsided, and she loosened her grip on Peter. She looked at him and said, "Sorry. Flashback. Thanks for the soap." and he understood. She grinned sheepishly and shook her head. She asked, "Where were we?"
Peter was shocked. "You want to continue after... that?"
She nodded. He gently kissed her forehead, then slowly lifted her onto the side of the bathtub, and spread her legs. He kissed her mouth, her neck, and down her flat boyish body, past the barely noticeable bumps of her breasts. She guessed his intent, and leaned against the wall, and whispered, "Oh yes, do it..."
He continued down her body until he reached her pussy, and he licked her lips. She moaned as he slowly moved his tongue into her opening, licking and slurping, as she cried out in pleasure. Her whole body trembled again, this time in pleasure, as she came. She nudged him with her foot and he noticed that the water had become tepid. She looked down at him and said, “Want to go to my room?” He nodded. She motioned for him to get out first. They shared a towel and an embrace on the way to her room. She rotated him to put him on the bed faceup, and she straddled him in his lap. He stopped her before she could envelop his manhood.
“Do you really want to do this? The last time…” he started, but she cut him off.
“It’s only a problem in the tub.” And she kissed him, forestalling further debate. She guided him back down until she was laying on top of him. Her wetness swallowed his manhood and she gently moved her hips up and down, caressing him as her hands caressed his chest. His hands moved up and down her spine as they kissed gently. Their wet naked bodies slowly moved against each other as they made love, and Peter felt a pressure in his cock. Rebecca whispered in his ear, “yeah, give it to me…” and Peter obliged, crying out as his cum sprayed deep into Rebecca. Rebecca cried out in joy as she came at the same time, and they clutched each other.
In their afterglow, Rebecca looked at Peter and said, “Tired?” He nodded, and the last thing he remembered was her smile.
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