How I Pissed Off the Guy Down the Hall

I suppose it all began about two months ago, when we were leaving to go home for winterbreak. I was sitting with Ed and Alan in Alan’s room, watching as Alan read his Email for the last time that.

There was a knock at the door, and Alan’s parents entered. “Are you ready to go, son?” “Not yet. Gotta finish checking my mail.”

That’s when we saw her. Her being Alan’s younger sister Amanda, we being Ed and myself. She didn’t look too much younger than Alan, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old, with straight brownish hair cut short, the thin build apparently common to members of Alan’s family — her hips, covered by tight jeans, just beginning to spread to a womanly shape, while her chest remained hidden within her overlarge coat. Her face remarkable, what really drew me to her.

She had high cheekbones, and thick lips, skin flawless without a hint of makeup, and large, dark-brown eyes.

I turned to Ed, “Alan has a sister? I didn’t know that…(whispered) she’s kinda cute.”

“Ya’ know, it’s been ’bout a year since I’ve seen her…what’s her name…uhhh…” Furrows of concentration formed on Ed’s prematurely balding forehead.

“Hi. I’m Amanda. I’m Alan’sembarassmen…I mean sister.” She extended her snow-white hand.

Not being a moron, I shook it. Briefly, the thought of kissing it flashed across my mind, but I quickly squelched the idea.

“I’m Speechless. But these idiots keep calling me Sam, for some reason.”

She giggled. It was like music. Birds singing and everything. The whole bit. However, since this sort of thing occurs with me on an almost daily basis, I paid it no special heed.

“Hi Ed,” she continued “it’s nice to see you again.” At this, she smiled, forming two endearing dimples on her rose hued cheeks, displaying two rows of perfect teeth.

“Uhh…yeah. You too, You sure have done an awful lot of growing… last time I saw you, weren’t you only, like, five-feet tall”?

“Yup, but I’ve done a LOT of growing up since then! Wanna see”? As Alan commenced his packing rituals, Ed and I nodded our heads vigorously. She unzipped her coat, revealing a thin, white Mickey Mouse shirt, and, clearly visible to both of us, a black bra encasing two large (for a fourteen year old, anyway…medium, really), perfectly formed breasts.

“I think I’m in love.” Ed and I spoke in unison. Perhaps not to each other.

“You know, I REALLY need a woman.” I managed to stammer as she zipped up her coat again.

“Sorry I can’t help you, Speechless.” She smiled again. “Well…maybe we’ll see each other next year…” I said, brightening even as I said it.

“Maybe. I Gotta go. G’bye.” Alan ushered us back out into the hall, locking his door behind him. “You guys know that that was my SISTER you were talking to, right?”

‘Yup. She’s cute” “Yughhh!” Alan made a face, “MY sister? Amanda, right? There wasn’t a girl in there that I didn’t see, was there?”

“Only the inflatable one that your parents didn’t see… Nope, we mean

YOUR sister. She’s pretty hot.” Then Ed spoke: “Yeah… I could live

with one of those…” “She’s only fourteen! You guys are sick! I’m

leaving.” Just then the elevator pulled up. We helped Alan push his cart of laundry and computer equipment on board.

“I’m leaving now, you perverts!” The doors closed. Alan was gone. “Hey

Ed – are we perverts?” “Uhh…yeah. I think we’re perverts. Why… got a problem with perverts?”

“Not me, how ’bout you?” “None at all.”

Chapter Two: A Second Meeting

Winterbreak was fairly uneventful, I suppose. I really didn’t think much at all about Alan or his sister until I checked my Email on Christmas eve. Mostly the normal things… mailing list crap, responses to flames, and messages from friends, telling me that they were leaving and would not check their mail for some time… the usual stuff. However, there WAS a message from Alan, someone I knew to be just as compulsive as I in reading and responding to mail. I knew that this, at least, would be read and answered within a few days.

The message went something like this:

>Alright, you sicko, I just wanted to let you know that I’m coming back >on the 4th. You’d better be back, too. > >And my sister wishes you a merry Christmas, and says she hopes you’ll >find a woman under your tree this year. Idiot. >Fucko. >Alan.

Although I’m an atheist, the sentiment warmed my heart, amongst other things, as I remembered the flashing incident two-weeks past. I quickly made my replies, then scurried off to the bathroom…

Of course I was back to the dorm on the Fourth. Nice and early, before the place even opened for the few returning students that normally come back that soon. I beat Alan back by a good two hours, anxiously awaiting his (and hopefully his sister’s) return.

Unfortunately, I didn’t immediately notice their return, having just realized that I had forgotten the power cord for my PC. However, the knock at my door was enough to rouse me from my grouchy repose.

“What the hell do you want?!” “It’s Alan, you fucko! Open up!” “What’s

the password?” “Your Mom! I’m coming in, dumbass.” A few moments later, I was back down in Alan’s room, helping in his traditional unpacking method of throwing everything into his closet, and shoving everything that didn’t fit in his closet into his desk or dresser. Amanda was there, and occupied the vast majority of my attention, in her baggy white coat and tight Levi’s.

Alan’s parents came into the room. “Alan, do you need anything for your room?”

“Yeah. I need Cokes. And shampoo. And I need floppy disks.” “Alright.

Where do we have to go to get all of that?” “Well, there’s a Wal-Mart

down by the interstate…” “OK. We’ll stop and get something to eat

then, too. Let’s go.” “Mom, I just got something all over me…I think

it’s ink.” And it was. The printer cartridge for Alan’s printer had somehow burst, covKimg Amanda completely with ink. “Well, you’d better stay here and clean up. We can’t have you in the new car that way.”

My heart stopped beating at those words. Why, she’d probably…

“You’re gonna need a shower.” YES YES YES “Alan, where the hell are your towels? Give your sister a towel. And soap. And shampoo.”

“I’m out of shampoo. That’s why we’re going to the store…” “I’ve got

plenty of shampoo. She can use mine.” I said. “Alright. That’s real nice o’ you, Sam. Honey, we’ll be back in a coupla hour or thereabouts.”

I went back to my room, in search of my suddenly all-important “OK Dad.” bottle of Selsun Blue. After a moment of tearing the room apart, I found it. Under my PC’s power cord, no less.

I loped down the hall with a quickness born of a man that wants to see a naked teenager. Since I live in a dorm, I knew very well that there was VERY little privacy in the open bathrooms. I could hear water running in only one shower stall. Of course, that made sense, since we were the only people on the entire floor.

I scampered over to her stall, noting the white panties at the top of her heap of clothes.

“I brought you some shampoo…” “Great. Hand it over.” The shower curtain opened partway, and a grasping hand emerged. “Gimme. Thanks.”, she said as I put the bottle in her hand, catching a glimpse of smiling lips and pubescent breast as she closed the curtain once more.

“Can you stay and watch… to make sure nobody shows up for a little peep show?”

“You mean like the one you gave me just now?” (with sarcasm) “Whoops”

“And what did that mean?” “It’s just your little reward for giving me some shampoo. I hope you liked it.” “Yeah. It was great!” I said, blushing and suddenly very conscious of myself. I turned my back, shaking my head and wondKimg why, if I had spent nineteen years waiting for something like this, I was so embarrassed by it now.

But Amanda continued, “So how was break? Did Santa leave you the woman you needed so badly?”

I was about to respond that Santa hadn’t left me anything for over 10 years when I felt two warm, wet hands grab my shoulders.

“I guess not.” I felt her pull me into the shower. I suppose that, if I were a little more uninhibited, I probably would’ve gone willingly about five minutes before. However, in real life, there’re things like harassment lawsuits, not to mention statutory rape. These facts kept me from leaping in with her right away…but now…

The warm water quickly soaked me as she removed my clothes- starting with my jeans. I watched, stunned, and looked at her wet nakedness. I beheld full, womanly nudity for the first time in my life. Curves previously viewed only in my Playboys were readily visible now, as she tugged off my pants, leaving me a no-doubt foolish sight, in my Hanes and T-shirt, mouth agape. She then wrapped her arms about my neck and kissed me deeply. In an instant, I felt her tongue probing my lips, then darting past, on to my mouth. Much to my surprise, she moved my left arm to her breast. I was in heaven.

Slowly, I began to move against her, my hands steadily roaming over her beautiful, slender young frame, to her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, her back, her ass… I broke from our passionate embrace, knowing then the object of my desire. I ran my hands over her once more as I slid onto my knees, kissing my way ever downward, lovingly licking each erect nipple, stopping for a French-kiss at her belly-button, and then, down to her nether-regions, I found it bare, save for a quarter-inch wide strip atop her pubis.

For most men who dream of lovemaking, their first sexual act is simple intercourse. Fucking, I guess. Not me. I wanted the taste of a woman on my tongue, the smell of arousal to be the air that I breathe.

So the fact that I wanted to be on my knees, practically drowning is steaming-hot water as it streamed over our bodies should come as less than a shock…

I began by kissing her pubic hair, tasting the slightly salty tang of her. Then down, once more, to her center, her womanhood, where I buried my face, first taking a breath of arousal’s musky aroma, then kissing the lips of her opening. She moaned as I tongued her, occasionally instructing me in better pleasing her, her hands first running through my short hair, then grasping and pushing me further in to her being. After an eternity of my ministrations, her moans began to intensify to screams of pleasure, and I knew that I had fulfilled her. Yet, I continued, enjoying the taste, the smell, the fleshy warmth until, yet again, she cried out. This time, she pulled me away from her. I kissed her again. She didn’t seem to mind the taste, rather, she seemed to revel in it, kissing me more deeply than she had kissed me before.

She drew back and spoke: “Now, what would you like your woman to do for you?”. She pushed my underwear down as she said it. “How about…”

She then proceeded to rub her hands over my erect cock. Only a moment stimulation brought me to release, a huge load of sperm shooting onto her belly and into her hands. She immediately scooped up all the cum that wasn’t washed away by the jet of water; both of her tiny hands full with white jizz, and brought it to her lips, licking daintily. Any chance of my losing my erection died at that sight. She eagerly licked up all she could find, even a fingerful she spotted on the wall next to her, which she brought to her lips and, in the most erotic I’ve ever seen, licked the entire length of. Her next statement nearly stopped my overworked heart. All she said was “More”.

Toweling off became a very interesting proposal afterward, since there was only one towel between the two of us. However, we made do, playfully drying each other, touching each other, fondling each other…

My clothes were, to say the least, soaked, so I found a return to my room in order. Amanda followed me, nude, with the towel wrapped about her head, clothes in hand. Upon reaching our destination, I discovered that I had left the window in my room open, because of the sauna-like dormitory heat. Being wet only heightened the chill of the room. It was cold!

I watched in wonder as Amanda’s naked form climbed up my loft, where a half-dozen thick, warm blankets could be found, marveling at her grace. She wrapped herself up in my comforter as I moved to close my window, still dripping from our moments-passed experience. I then grabbed a towel of my own, and climbed up to my bed, where I found my seductress stretched and under cover, making noises not unlike the purring of a cat.

“Let me,” she said as I began to dry myself, “please”. She took the towel from my hands and began to gently rub it over my body. First my back, then my chest, over my arms, my hair. She stopped momentarily.

“I’m a little wet still, too.” she said. She resumed her procedure by rubbing the towel over my face, which I found to be pleasantly soaked with the smell of herself, her sex.

“Are you sure that was only a little wet?” “Nope, that was VERY wet…” She moved the towel downward, toward my turgid organ, making ever broadening circles about my chest and belly, until she at last reached my crotch.

I turned toward her, pulling off the blankets that covered her firm young form. She lay naked on her side, using the thick towel to caress me, totally beautiful. I took in the whole of her for the first time. The gentle curve of her hip, her slender waist, two tiny feet, and her twinkling eyes, alight with an undeniable spark of lust.

For my part, I took the other end of the damp towel, and began to reciprocate her caress. I began at her nipples, applying light pressure to each, then pulling them slightly from within the terrycloth. Soon her nipples began to lengthen and harden. I then began to cup and massage each of her breast. First one, then the other.

She kissed me again. More tenderly than passionately, slower and softer, My hands moved from beneath the towel to encircle her waist, then up, tracing each rib, cupping her lovely breasts, sliding one hand to her shoulder, then to the towel that covered her hair. With the other hand, I drew her close to me, pulling her on top of me.

She smiled as she brought herself against me, my cock pressed against the wet folds of a woman for the first time. “Is this your first time?” she whispered. I could only nod. “Alright. I’ll try to make this special…” her voice trailed off to nothing then, as our hands continued to explore our bodies. I pressed her tightly to me, stroking her back and thighs, but I found that I could not bring myself to make the thrust that would begin lovemaking in earnest. So I contented myself with kissing her perfect lips and feeling my dick rub against her.

Penetration came as something of a surprise, I think. She was moaning as I fingered her, while she was playfully pinching one of my nipples. Suddenly, she sat up and guided me into her, all in one fluid motion. Her face is what I remember most clearly – her glowing, pale skin, surrounded by short ringlets of damp, black hair, mouth open wide, while her smiling eyes spoke the joy and the passion of the action.

We fucked slowly, the first time. I was more than willing to let her control my experience (after all, she had probably done this before.) So I let her guide me, teach me. Occasionally, she would moan some instruction to me, or sometimes guide me with her hands. She spent most of her time on top, and liked me to stimulate her manually, while she fondled my body (actually, liking to fondle was definitely a mutual activity).

I really don’t know how long we made love. It seemed at the time like it was forever. I think she got off first – it’s hard to be sure. There was a great deal of moaning, and grunting. Occasionally, she would tickle me, or I her, causing a brief peal of laughter.

Sometimes she would whisper something in my ear. I never really understood what she said, then, being too caught up in the fact that *I* was making love with a desirable female, and, despite my friends’ predictions, it didn’t involve the exchange of money.

After a time, perhaps it was forever, I felt the surge of something not far from pain fill myself. I began to come. She must’ve felt it, too, but merely continued to meet my quickening thrusts. I felt wave after wave of pleasure sweep through me, running from the top of my spine through to the end of my penis, as spurt after spurt of my semen squirted into her hot, tight, wet pussy. Yet even after I finished, I continued to thrust, slowing the pace, rather than coming to an abrupt stop. I thought it would be better that way.

“I have to go… my parents’ll be back any minute. Here: you keep these. Think of them as a momento of your first time.” She handed me her white cotton panties as she climbed down from my loft (She wore Calvin Klein brand). I watched as she pulled on her Levi’s and ink-stained sweatshirt. She climbed back up momentarily to kiss me, then darted out the door.

As it turned out, she left just in time. She later told me that her parents arrived back less than five minutes after she was out my door.

For my part, I simply climbed out of my loft, went to the stereo, put in my “Three Tenors” CD, and returned to bed, to bask in the afterglow of my first sexual experience, as Luciano Pavarotti sang “Nessun Dorma” on infinite repeat…

Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Alan came down to my room a few minutes later. Fortunately, Amanda had locked it on the way out. I don’t think I could’ve stood to be around him, since I knew that I’d tell him what had happened, and if I did, I’d never get to see Amanda again. So I just ignored his pounding, and fell asleep.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was that the pile of junk stacked near the closet on the far side of the room had grown, the hallmark of Ed’s return. I sat up, and noticed that I had been sleeping with Amanda’s panties clutched in my left hand, up against my face. I noticed Ed, too, under my loft, who had apparently taken the liberty of turning off my stereo and plugging in my computer. He was playing Doom, of course.

“Ed!”, I said, in our traditional greeting. “Sam!” came the

near-liturgical response. “Good Break?” “It was OK, I think. Coulda been better, I suppose… the first day back was the best part, really.”

“Uhhhm… yeah. I generally find that getting back to school… and the net feed… is the best thing… however, your, uhhhm, computer wasn’t even plugged in… it took me a couple of minutes to figure… out that you had the power cord laying in your box of bathroom stuff…”

“Ed, this is better than that!” “Oh? Really? Uhmm… the only thing better than computers is sex. You know… oh. Wait. You don’t. Scratch that…”

(Ed really should be excused. He’s a CS major, and they just don’t know any better…)

“Well, Ed, I beg to differ. Remember Amanda?”, I said, idly gesturing with the wadded-up panties in my hand.

“Alan’s sister? Of course. Why? Did your hand have a uhhm… close encounter of the masturbatory kind while you…uhhm thought about her naked writhing body or something?”

I began to unwad the panties. “Nope! Ed, I HAD Amanda’s naked body writhing beneath me yesterday!” I smiled. He laughed. I held up the panties. He stopped laughing.

“That looks…kinda like a pair of panties…Are those Calvin Klein French Cut Panties?”

“These’re AMANDA’s Calvin Klein French Cut Panties!” “Oh. Cool! Congratulations!” Ed reached up and shook my hand. “So, like, uhhm…how’d you manage to get ’em?”

“Well, after we were done fucking, she sorta gave ’em to me, ‘cuz she didn’t wanna put ’em back on, I suppose…”

“So you, like, got some? COOL! How’d it go? Was it good? Was she good? Were you good? Do you maybe wanna share sometime?”

I proceeded to relate my experience of the previous day to him. Occasionally Ed would interrupt with an editorial comment like, “Yeah. Chicks like that,” or something similar. However, for the most part, I did all the talking.

After I finished, Ed continued his questioning, “So what’re you gonna do ’bout Alan and… uhhm seeing her again and stuff?”

“Well, right now, I’m not sure. I don’t know her real address. I’m not real sure where Alan is from, and he may be suspicious already. I guess I’m just gonna have to wait and see what Amanda does… I mean, I know you’re not gonna tell Alan what we did, and *I’M* sure as hell not gonna tell him, so all we really need to do is wait to see what happens.”

“Well, I guess, that…uhhm… that’s about all you can do, then, isn’t it?”

“Yup” I used a broken wire hanger and some string to make the sacred panties into a “kinetic sculpture” (that’s a fancy expression meaning “mobile”), which I hung over my bed. Ed got a few days’ worth of jokes out of that, until I asked him when the last time HE’d had sex was. That shut him up pretty quickly

Since Ed and I both spent a great deal of time hanging around with Alan, we both spent a great deal of time prodding him with inquires about his younger sibling.

“My sister is a pest. And you guys are sick fucks. Both of you. Now, shut up. And give me floppy disks.” – it became Alan’s mantra.

Working on Alan obviously didn’t hold much promise. However, about two weeks later, after classes began again, I got a letter. From Amanda. With lipstick over my name on the envelope. Elation is a good word to describe my feelings. So is erection.

Dear Sam,

I hope you loved what we did as much as I do. It took me

forever to find Alan’s address, but I did! I just had to tell you, I

figured out how I can come back and see you and Ed again! One of my

friends, Rachel, is coming down to see her boyfriend next weekend. And

ever other weekend! She said she’ll let me come along, as long as I

help pay for gas! Isn’t it great? Now I can come for visits every

weekend!