Another Life – Chapter 7

I was over-thinking it. It didn’t have to be complicated. So when my Dad and stepmother made plans to visit friends for a weekend, I made a phone call. Sam didn’t sound too surprised to hear from me. She accepted my offer without giggling or saying anything foolish.

Friday, after work, I biked home. I showered, and cleaned up. Dad gave me instructions for the weekend, and contact information for where they were staying. My stepmother gave me a list of chores she wanted done. They left. I ate my delicious meal of leftovers.

Then I walked over to Sam’s house. It was only 15 minutes away, if I cut through the park behind the elementary school.

I rang the doorbell, and Sam answered. Tanya wasn’t home, thankfully; she was over at a friend’s. Caroline said hello. Her mother simply said: “Have a nice time. Don’t be too late!”

– “We won’t.” I promised. One of the benefits of having come over so often with Marty, I suppose, was that Sam’s Mom wasn’t too curious – or suspicious – about me.

Sam and I walked back to my house. It occurred to me, as were crossing the park, that she hadn’t said anything stupid yet. I’d asked her how work shift had gone, and a few other simple questions.

– “Sam? Can I ask you something else?”

– “Yeah. Of course.”

– “We’ve been walking for … ten minutes – and you haven’t giggled. Not even once.”

– “I know.” she said.

– “And … pardon me for saying it, but you haven’t said anything … silly, either. I mean, I’m not asking you to, but … how come?”

– “I don’t know. I think it’s because my sisters aren’t around.” she said.

– “Tanya?”

– “Caroline, too. They’re always telling me how stupid I am. And they tell our friends. They tell everybody: Mom, Dad. So I try to say something smart … only that usually just makes it worse.”

I felt for her. Without thinking, I reached out and took her hand. We walked on, in silence, for a while.

– “And the giggles?” I asked.

– “I don’t know.” she said. “I guess I just want guys to like me. Only I never know what to say, or I say the wrong thing. Don’t guys like it if girls laugh at their jokes?”

– “Sometimes.” I said. Only Sam giggled at everything I said.

– “I overdo it, right?” she said. “I know I do. It’s like I can’t stop. I guess I just get nervous, and that’s how I react.”

– “But you’re not giggling now.” I pointed out. “So does that mean you’re not nervous with me? Or not as much as you used to be?”

– “No, I’m not nervous with you, Joe. Not so much, anymore.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Because I know you like me. You do, right?”

I pulled her to me, and kissed her. She responded passionately. We were just down the road from my house – actually, only two doors away from Anne’s house. I didn’t care if any of the neighbors were watching. Sam’s face was radiant when I finally released her.

– “You’re very pretty.” I told her.

It was the first time she’d been to my house. My stepmother wouldn’t let me have friends over unless I got permission first – and there was often a reason why ‘Now isn’t a good time’. Sam got the 10 cent tour, and then followed me to the basement. I got her a drink.

It was decidedly odd. I had just discovered that I didn’t have to talk to Sam. In fact, I liked her best when she wasn’t giggling or saying something stupid. It remained to be seen if she was comfortable enough around me to relax and … well… Wasn’t it Elvis who sang: ‘A little less conversation, a little more action please’?

So I kissed her. Sam kissed me back. She wasn’t shy, but she wasn’t aggressive, either. I had already learned that much, from our necking session in Marty’s car.

When I searched out her tongue with my own, she responded in kind. And when I put my arms around her, and pulled her close, she wrapped her arms around me. As a test, I slid a hand down to her butt, and gave it a squeeze. A moment later, I felt her little hand settle on my ass, and give it a rub. I came up for air, and leaned back.

– “You trust me, don’t you, Sam?” I asked.”We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to – okay? You tell me to stop, and we will.”

– “Okay.” she said, leaning forward to kiss me again.

Sam didn’t protest when I pulled her close, and let her feel my erection through our pants. When I pressed forward a bit, against her lower belly, she responded by grinding her crotch on my upper thigh.

I lifted up her shirt, and she raised her arms so that I could pull it over her head. Then I took off her bra. She helped, and threw it on the chair, next to her shirt.

For a very slim girl, Sam had nice boobs. She let me cup, fondle, and gently squeeze them. I traced paths with my fingertips. When I bent over to kiss her breast, Sam cradled my head with her hands, and ground her crotch against my leg a little harder.

There was no hurry. We had all night. And Sam was obviously just as turned on as I was. I probably spent twenty more minutes kissing her and her breasts. Then I undid her jeans, and slipped them down her legs.

Her panties followed, and Sam was standing naked in my basement. I stepped back.

– “Can I look at you?” I asked.

– “Yes.” she breathed. No giggle. She put her hands up behind her head, making her boobs perk up very nicely.

Sam was bit too slender: no hips to speak of – her waist was almost wider than her hips. But she had nice legs, those delightful boobies, and that pretty face with the abnormally bright blue eyes. I had no complaints.

– “Don’t ever let anyone say you aren’t beautiful.” I told her.

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=379

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Facebook: phicklephilly          Instagram@phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Advertisements

4 Biggest Signs You’re Not In Love With Him (That You Can’t Ignore)

https://va.topbuzz.com/s/MRSRR

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly      Facebook: phicklephilly   Twitter: @phicklephilly

Itchy and Snatchy

I’ve had my fair share of bad dates and am so glad to be happy in a relationship for the moment but there is always a story to tell.

I talked to her a few times and got a general idea of who she was and things she liked so we agreed to go out. I picked her up and she asked me to take her to Target to get a baby shower gift.

Hmmm… odd request but okay. The entire time I’m in Target with her she’s complimenting my looks. Now I know I’m not a bad-looking dude but this girl was making me out to be Tom Cruise or something. The red flags start waving.

We leave and go to dinner. A steak house. We sit and chit-chat. She says she’s starving. So the server comes and takes our order. She orders a burger.

I’m like, hey you can order a steak, get whatever you want.

She says nope I want a burger. Okay. No biggie. I order my steak and we wait.

Conversation was mild and flowing. No real red flags until dinner came. She looks at my steak and says, oh wow I should have ordered a steak that looks so good.

Hmmm… ok I told you that, but whatever. I take a bite and she won’t touch her burger. It just sits there for a few minutes.

Here’s where things get weird. She starts laughing hysterically and points behind me and says look at that guy over there. Naturally I turn around and see nothing. I turn back and she has bare hand grabbed my steak and has it in her mouth taking a large bite out of it. She tosses is back on my plate and licks her fingers. I’m pretty shocked at this point and ready for dinner to be over. You’d think that’s not too crazy.

Oh, it gets worse.

So I’m done with the steak. She proceeds to inhale her burger. She,s a very petite girl so I’m amazed. Then she starts scratching herself. Like she’s itching. She’s scratching between her legs and it’s getting more vigorous.

I ask if she’s okay, and she says she thinks she’s got a yeast infection. She said it pretty loud and if people didn’t turn their heads at the steak part they are now and it gets quiet. She is scratching really hard now. I’m signaling the waiter for the check.

She asks if I can take her to the store for some Vagisil. At this point I’m ready for some candid cameras to come out and tell me I’m Punk’d.

I pay quickly and we get in my car.

I drive back towards her place and she says she’s not ready to go home but needs to stop and get some Vagisil. I pull into a grocery store in front of her apartment and park. She gets out and looks back and asks if I’m coming in too. I say no and will wait in the car. As soon as she walks in I left.

She called me 4 hours later asking where I went. Never talked to her again.

She’s dubbed “crazy steak girl.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly