My New Girlfriend
Chapter Three

      When Courtney and I first started dating, I didn’t really give much thought to the long-term. A girl that hot? That aggressive? I was sure it was just going to be a crazy hookup that nobody would ever believe happened. Now, after almost three months, it was time to acknowledge that we were in a real relationship. A bizarre, unorthodox relationship, sure – but one my family insisted on having over for Thanksgiving nonetheless.
      “And remember, what aren’t we going to do?” I asked her for probably the fifth time during the drive over.
      “Fuck, suck, strip, jiggle, dirty-talk, make out or discuss any of the above,” she recited from memory.
      “Good. And what are we going to do?”
      “Pretend we’re a normal couple. Hold hands. Smile flirtatiously. Verbally tease each other.”
      “That’s right.” I’d belatedly had to add verbally as a qualifier, for fear that we’d be in the middle of having stuffing and I’d suddenly find her foot rubbing between my thighs under the table.
      Courtney wasn’t the first girl I’d ever brought over to meet the family on a holiday, yet I found I was far more nervous than I’d ever been. It made no sense really. She was immensely more attractive than those other girls, and while most of them had dreaded the visit, Courtney was elated by the opportunity. She’d gone on and on about how excited she was to get to know me better by seeing where I’d come from. It was sweet, really, and not in the affectionately-sweet way that was her norm.
      Still, those other girls had had careers, and education, and interests. They all had things to talk about and experiences to share and witty and amusing anecdotes. (Most of them did. Deborah had been kind of a dud.) In short, those other woman had priorities in their life other than my happiness. 
      I drove by the house three times before I parked.
      My family is a small one, thankfully, so when we walked in and were immediately met by my mom, my brother Mike, his wife Dana and their three kids, introductions took less than a minute. Quietly, I basked in the thunderstruck look on Mike’s face as I introduced them to Courtney. On Dana’s too, actually. For once, I got to be the stud.
      My mother, ever one to believe her boys were perfect little men who deserved the world, didn’t even seem to question Courtney’s presence.
      Mike, on the other hand… My big brother had grown up with a lot of that fake bad-boy cred that good-looking suburban kids learn to fake from watching a lot of TV. He’d had girls lining up to hook up with him back then, and the fact that girls were lining up only seemed to make more line up. He’d cleaned up his act eventually and married Dana, but just standing in the entryway of my childhood home brought back echoes of the rocking of bedposts from Mike’s room.
      If Dana knew half of what I knew about what had gone on up there, she’d never let her kids in their dad’s old room.
      So with introductions made, we settled into the living room and talked with my brother and his wife while my mom went to work on dinner. (She’d never allowed us to help as kids, and time hadn’t disabused her of the mistrust of our culinary competence.) They asked the standard questions – how we met (“we used to ride the same bus, and one day we sat together and it just clicked!”), what she did (“I used to work for a local college and some magazines, but right now I’m between jobs”), who her team was (“the Patriots, duh”), and just like that, she was in.
      We watched the game, caught up on current events, ate too much for comfort but not enough to sate Mom’s ego, tried and failed to get the kids to talk to us rather than their screens. I couldn’t help but smile at my nephew’s disinterest in my girlfriend. He didn’t look at her and see a goddess put on earth to ensure that lust would never die; he saw Uncle Drew’s girlfriend and went back to his game. 
      In fact, things actually went so well that we wound up staying later than intended. Mike and Dana kissed Mom goodbye and hefted their sleeping kids out to their rental car and left for their hotel. He lived in the Midwest now, so they’d flown in and there just wasn’t room for the four of them to stay here comfortably.
      “Why don’t you two stay the night?” my mom pressed as Courtney and I made to leave.
      I wanted to tell her no, feeling awkward standing there in front of these two women – one who had put a bar of soap in my mouth for calling another neighborhood kid an asshole, and one who just last night had begged to be allowed to personally bathe me.
      Still, it was a four-hour drive back home and it was already almost 11:00, and we’d been drinking to boot. Besides, I knew my mom was lonely sometimes, and it’d do her some good to wake up and have people around.
      “We’d love to, Mom, thanks.”
      “Wonderful. Courtney, I’ll show you to Mikey’s room. I just put fresh sheets on the bed this morning, just in case.” I laughed in spite of myself; it had been so long since I’d considered notions like modesty or chastity, or of not nutting in Courtney’s eager mouth whenever I felt like it.
      “Say, do you think I could I stay in Drew’s room? If it’s OK with you.” My mother paused on the stairs and fixed her with a look that was hardening by the heartbeat. I tried not to groan – how could I have been more clear about expectations?
      Then Courtney went on. “And then you could stay in your brother’s room, right sweetie? C’mon, I just want to see where you grew up, see what I missed out on.” In an instant, my mother was pacified, and I quickly agreed. She squeezed my hand, and then we parted ways as my mom lead her to my old room and I shuffled off to Mike’s. I listened as she and my mom wished one another a good night, the door to my room closing and the sound of my mom’s slippered feet receding as she made her way back downstairs to her room.
      I realized somewhere in the middle of it that it had been almost three weeks since I’d had gone a day without Courtney getting me off.
      Why was that making me so grouchy? I’d gone more than three decades without it just fine; what was one night? So what if I was lying here in my brother’s bed, the very same one I know he’d nailed more girls in than I could remember. Some of them had been girls I’d known, had an eye for. Now that I finally had my own hot willing babe, here I was all by myself and wondering what things must be like in the other bedroom. 
      Then the door opened. It was Courtney – or rather, a version of Courtney. She was wearing makeup – way too much of it, in fact. Heavy eye shadow, thick red lipstick, loads of blush and eyeliner. She’d drawn up her hair in a casual pony tail and was dressed in an outfit she definitely hadn’t worn here. Tight blue jeans, white sneakers decorated with a garish assortment of marker colors. A t-shirt that read “Jackson High Vball.”
      Holy shit. From the shoes to the makeup to the chewing gum to the pony tail to her youthful beauty to the shirt from my old school… she was the spitting image of every girl I’d ever dreamed about hooking up with when I’d last been a resident at this address.
      “Courtney…” I breathed in awe. 
      “Um, ya. What are you, Mike’s little bro or somethin’?” she asked. She looked and sounded annoyed at the swap. “How do you even know my name?”
      “How do I…?” What did she mean, how did I know her name? I’d drove her over here for crying out loud.
      Then I got it. Or I thought I did. I took a guess.
      “Oh. Yeah, we were in the same study hall last semester.”
      “Ah, K.” She looked around, as if hoping Mike might be hiding under the bed or behind his Guns n’ Roses  poster or something. “So like, I guess he’s not in?”
      “Uh, nope.” Geez, being back in this house, in front of this girl… it was turning me back into the geeky teen I vaguely remembered being. 
      She sighed irritably. “Any idea when… Hey. Twerp. Eyes’re up here.” She drew my eyes from her chest, distending the text on her t-shirt, to her face. “So yeah, K, any idea when he’s gonna be back?”
      I took a moment to think this time. “Shouldn’t be long, I don’t think. You’re welcome to come wait if you want.”
      She pursed her lips, considering, then came in and shut the door behind her. Smart girl, keeping the noise inside the room. She pulled his desk chair out and spun it around, sitting in it backwards. That lucky chair. “All right, I guess. So, yeah, I think I remember you. Andy, right?”
      I frowned. “Drew.” I was born Andrew, and I’d always hated being called Andy. It drove me crazy. Which Courtney well knew.
      “Yeah, whatever. So like, what’re you doing in your brother’s room?”
      You tell me, I wanted to say. “Oh, I was just looking for this book I loaned him that he never got around to reading.”
      “Yeah, Mike’s not really the literary type,” she said, and just perfectly in a way that simultaneous derided him for being dumber than her, while adoring him for turning her on. “What was the book?”
      I looked around and found a book – I’d let him put our collective bookshelf in his room so he could try to impressed hot nerd girls when he brought them over to “study.” “Slaughterhouse V,”  I said. “You ever read it?”
      She shook her head. “Sounds gross. What’s it about?”
      “Nah, not really. It’s about this guy, Billy Pilgrim, who was at the firebombing of Dresden and becomes unstuck in time.”
      She laughed. “Unstuck in time? What does that mean?”
      “He just kind of skips around – one day he’ll be a kid again, then he’ll be an old man in a loveless marriage.” I laughed as memories trickled back in. “Yeah, and sometimes he’d wake up as a human exhibit in the zoo of the alien Tralfamadorians.”
      “Tramafama-what now?” she asked, scooting her chair closer. Holy crap, she was even wearing too much perfume. She’d out-done herself.
      “Tralfamadorians,” I repeated. “Anyway, it’s all about how screwed up and crazy life can be, and how little we can do about any of it. I think, anyway.”
      “It sounds cool,” Courtney said, and then she joined me on the bed, folding one leg underneath herself but still keeping a little distance. “Life can definitely be pretty screwed up sometimes.”
      “Oh?” I prompted. She was doing such an amazing job with her character, I just needed to see what else she could do with it.
      “Ya. I mean OK, like, take your brother. He asks me out last week, and I’m like no way because I know Mike’s rep and all, right? But he swears he’ll be a gentleman, promises not to even try to sleep with me, so I’m like sure, fine. Just to prove he’s obviously going to try something, right?”
      “That does sound like him,” I agreed. I suppose a girl like Courtney would have had run-ins of her own with guys like my brother.
       “Ya. Only then he doesn’t. Doesn’t even touch me except to brush a little crumb off my cheek. Then he doesn’t even call me! So my girlfriends are all like telling me it’s some stupid game and don’t fall for it, but like, I can take care of myself, ya know?”
      “Sure,” I said. Or maybe it wasn’t me saying it, but the teenage version of me, the one who’d agree with anything this vision said just to be able to keep talking to her. 
      “So like, I figured I’d just swing by while I was in the neighborhood, ya know? Then I saw the car on the street out front, figured he must have somebody over, so I thought I’d catch him in the act. Only now he’s not here. You’re not covering for your bro, are you Andy?”
      “It’s Drew,” I corrected her, but gently this time. “And no, I’m not. That’s actually my car.” Which was true, albeit out of character. I’d gotten my first car when I was in my mid-20’s and was paying it off into my 30’s.
      She sat up, plainly impressed. “You have a car?” I nodded. “That’s cool.”
      Courtney scooted a little closer. “Thanks.”
      “You know, you kinda look like Mike? But not all… Dawson’s Creek like him. You’re original. You’re… real.” She reached out and stroked her fingers – which I now saw she’d painted bright pink and decorated with smiley faces – through my hair.
      I grinned like an idiot, completely lost in the fantasy she was creating. “You’re pretty real yourself.” (What the hell does that even mean?)
      She kept tousling my hair as she spoke. At this range, her perfume was heady, so intense I couldn’t think of anything but her, and now. “So tell me. In this book of yours, you said they keep little Billy in a zoo?”
      “Yeah.”
      “So they like… watch him, and stuff?”
      I swallowed. “Um, yeah, I guess so.”
      “But what if he needed his privacy? What if he had to do something…” she trailed off, tilting her head to the side as she appraised me. “…dirty.”
      “Not even then. I guess he just learned to, you know, do what he needed to do.”
      She smiled. “I think I like this guy Billy. I’m kind of the same way.”
      And she kissed me. The way she’d taken me back, I’d almost forgotten how to kiss her, forgotten that I’d kissed her a thousand times. I switched off that part of my mind and committed myself to this fantasy. 
      She leaned me down on Mike’s bed and followed me down, her trim body laying down on top of me. In some other life, there was a Courtney who dressed slutty for me and stripped on my command and pleasured me however and whenever I wanted and obeyed me unhesitatingly and lived and breathed my happiness.
      Here, in this room, there was only this girl I was too afraid of to touch without her blessing. Courtney giggled as she had to physically grasp my hand on her waist and slide it down to her butt. I tried to feel her underwear through her jeans; I was pretty sure I could detect a panty-line somewhere, but I was too distracted by her tongue in my mouth to be sure.
      At some point Courtney pulled away, sitting upright and straddling me. Only our clothes were keeping our genitals apart, a fact I’m sure she knew as she gave a playful little wiggle of the hips. She smiled at me, and I could see she was smiling at being looked at with all the wonder a girl like her inspired in me. Then she was untucking her t-shirt from her jeans, and goodbye Jackson High.
      “Sorry about the sports bra,” she said with a little smirk. As if I would complain that she wasn’t clad in some kind of slutty lingerie. Her nipples were two little outcroppings in the spandex. “I came over straight from our game tonight.” As she tossed the shirt on the floor, I saw it even had her last name written across the back.
      “Did… did you win?” 
      She planted a hand on either side of my head, leaning back in for another long kiss. “Yeah. They put up a hell of a fight though.”
      The notion of fighting her was insane. I’d give her anything. I’d never been more turned on in my life. “C-can I… see them?” No segue, no prelude. Just a horny geek dying to see this hottie’s boobs.
      She laughed at my tremulous request, and for a moment I thought it might be a laugh of disdain. But then she kissed me again. “Sure you can.”
      As she took off that sports bra and let those incredible, perky tits of hers into the free air, it lit a fire in me. I grasped one slender wrist and swept it aside, and her chest sunk down into my face before she could adjust her balance. Her breast smashed into my face as I darted to intercept her cherry red nipples with my mouth, flattening out so they covered my mouth, my nose, even my eyes. I didn’t care. I’d gladly suffocate on these tits.
      From the way she gasped and started grinding her crotch into me, she seemed to be only too happy to suffocate me.
      There was no more permission then. I was too needful a thing to wait on words – as one hand sunk into the doughy flesh of her spare breast, the other slid down her back and right into her pants. When I found I’d wound up outside the panties, I back up and repeated, this time going all the way down to grope her bare ass.
      There was only so much of this the two of us lust-addled teenagers could take, and soon we were each fumbling at belts and zippers and underwear as quickly as we could get them off. Since I’d already been in bed I beat her soundly, and tackled her back down to the bed to resume making out as she blindly undid the rest.
      “Holy shit… you’re… you’re…” Her eyes opened wide as she took in the sight of my cock for the first time. That night. 
      “I’m what?” I asked self-consciously.
      “That’s the biggest fucking cock I’ve ever seen. Can I… can I taste you?” She licked her lips, the question addressed directly to my cock.
      “Do it. Suck me, beautiful.” I winced as the words from that dorky teen comedy I’d seen my senior year of high school came out of my mouth unbidden.
      Courtney, however, did just that. She even changed her technique – tonight she wasn’t her usual cum-thirsty cock-worshipping self. Instead, she was curious. Experimental. Clumsy even, at times, though only infrequently. It was a meeting of the blowjob I’d dreamed of getting every time I heard those slurping noises through the wall, meeting the reality of a real girl who didn’t suck dick like it was her preferred form of recreation.
      Moreover, it gave me time to sit back and appreciate my surroundings. Here I was, in my brother’s bed with a big-titted round-asses blonde volleyball player. She’d come to see him, but a few minutes with me and she’d forgotten all about him. It was my cock she craved now. My dick getting sucked. My mouth on her tits. Me making her so wet I could just barely detect it through the perfume.
      “On your back, Courtney,” I ordered. I was still in my teen mindset, but her eager blowjob had made me confident. She pulled back and gave me a wry smile as if to ask who this brash fellow was, and what had he done with little Andy.
      My cock, painfully erect, was throbbing right at the entrance to her pussy. Courtney had been growing out her pubic hair from shaved to a neatly trimmed thicket over the past month or so; right now, it completed the image of the half-innocent volleyball player from Jackson High who wanted to look cute like she’d read in Seventeen, but didn’t want to over-do it with pigtails and schoolgirl outfits. She looked exactly right for her part. 
      I realized, then, that she’d been planning this all month.
      Then she caught my cock in one soft hand and stopped it before it could dive in to where it so desperately wanted to be. “Wait wait wait,” she said, struggling to catch her breath between kisses, “do you have a condom?”
      It didn’t even occur to me in that moment that my Courtney was on the pill. “Oh shit. Shit shit shit – hang on, Mike’s got to have one around here somewhere.”
      Honest to god, the guy hadn’t lived in this room in going on two decades and here I was rummaging through his night stand for some ancient condom. Needless to say, I didn’t find one. “Fuck!” I said, pounding the bed in frustration, even as my brother’s date kept softly stroking my cock.
      “No,” she whimpered, looking almost on the verge of tears. “I want you so fucking bad right now I can taste it. But my folks, they’d kill me if I got knocked up. Shit!” Her big eyes watering, she looked down at where her hand was still slowly jacking me off.  
      “Do you think you could pull out in time?”
      No. No, I want to dive into you all the way and stay there until my balls are drained of every last fucking drop and I can never get it up again, I thought.
      “I can do it,” I said.
      She sighed in relief at my assurance and released her hold on me. Her legs spread back open. Moments later I was losing my virginity – or, well, you know what I mean – with my brother’s date in my brother’s bed. And she was already groaning in delirious happiness.
      “Do it, Drew. Fuck me. Fuck me, Drew. Harder. Fucking fuck me harder. Fuck me like you’ll never get to do it again. Fuck me until my brains dribble out my pussy. Fuck me. Fucking fuck me!”
      I complied, wondering if this was what she said to all the guys, or if she was genuinely so overwhelmed she was practically speaking in tongues. I stared mesmerized at her wildly bouncing boobs, the little faces she made that almost seemed like she was in pain but was really just beside herself with lust. Before long she was making a little wailing noise each time I bottomed out in her pussy; it grew louder with every thrust, as did her demands. “Harder! Deeper! Faster! Fuck me! FUCK ME!”
      “My mom’s downstairs,” I said self-consciously.
      “Sorry,” she panted, “just… don’t stop. I don’t care if you cum in me, just don’t stop. Fucking fuck my pussy!” 
      And so on. So it went.  
      I did my best to keep her quiet, shushing occasionally and slowing when she got too loud, but she never did silence herself all the way. She really did need it too bad. 
      Thanks to her, so did I. Heeding my own advice, I opened my mouth to bellow as I came in the depths of her, but no sound came out. It triggered an orgasm of her own, and she thoughtfully clutched my brother’s pillow to her mouth to at least attempt to muffle her shrieks.
      I rolled off of her, for a moment puzzled that she didn’t follow me and drape her body over mine, like she always did – but even now, she was still in character. “Wow. You… you really came inside me, didn’t you.”
      “Uh huh.”
      She was quiet for a moment as we each caught our breath, and then she rolled over to dangle her feet off the bed and began gathering her clothes.
      “You’re leaving?” I asked.
      She blushed a little – how could she control it so perfectly? – and nodded over her shoulder. “Yeah. I mean, before Mike comes back from wherever, right?”
      “Sure.” I watched her get dressed, and even in that she was a teenage girl hastily and awkwardly tugging her panties on in front of a hungry male gaze, self-conscious as hell. Soon, she was fully dressed again, but she sat down beside me and gave me another long kiss.
      “Are we going to do this again sometime?” I asked, too hopefully. “I mean… that was great. You’re great. I want to see you again.”
      She smiled at my second take, the praise taking some of the edge off of her embarrassment at how swept up she’d just let herself become. She took a moment and jotted down a phone number on a piece of paper. “If my dad answers, tell him we’re in a study group together. He’s super lame when boys call.”
      I nodded, grasping the phone number like it was solid gold. “Will do.”
      She smiled, and kissed me one more time. It was a sweet kiss. Friendly, and vulnerable. “You’re going to call right?” 
      “I’d have called already if you weren’t still here.”
      She smiled, then leaned down and kissed me, but this time on the cheek. Before she pulled away, she whispered softly in my ear – a smoky, throaty whisper that had me hard again before my brain processed the words.
      “To make sure you have something to be thankful for this year.”
      Then she hopped up and was out the door, pausing only to give me a radiant schoolgirl smile in the doorway. 
      There was no doubt about it. I was in love.



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