Lani Macintyre by Seldom There's a time and a place for everything. This wasn't it. Since the events that I am about to relate actually occurred, the following story doesn't contain much about muscle and nothing about female domination. Sorry to disappoint you. But even though it's not what I fantasize about, and is nothing like my stories about Felicia, the fact that it really happened makes this memory very precious to me. It's got some "romance" (okay, not much) and no violence. If you want to find out what it's about, then be my guest, read on. The names have been changed, of course. Without further introduction, I present to you Lani Macintyre. -------------------------------------------------------------- Lani has a reputation as kind of a slut at the high school. Okay, more than "kind of". She lost her virginity at thirteen (or was it twelve), enjoys sex, and makes no effort to hide it. I didn't find out about her other emotional problems until later, nor about just how little control she has of her hormones until much later. But perhaps I'll begin at the beginning and take you through in chronological order, to give you a small taste of my experience with her. It was near the end of the first quarter, or maybe the beginning of the second. It doesn't matter, this account has very little to do with school. It begins the week before Thanksgiving. Ah, what a week. That Friday night, the Friday before Thanksgiving, I spoke to Lani on the phone until the wee hours of the morning. She had just dumped her most recent boyfriend "because he was an asshole" and was already back to wondering who to go out with. She bounced from boy to boy faster than a bitch in heat, one of many things that bothered me about her (another one being her age: only 14). However, it didn't bother me enough to stop me from asking her to be my girlfriend. She said yes, and I became, as usual, ecstatically happy, with only a few reservations. I'll skip over most of the next day: the play we went to see, the time in the mall afterwards with my friends, reading Dr. Seuss to her at my house. Suffice it to say that towards the end of the day we ended up in her room, mildly making out but nothing too serious. You know, french kissing, a little verbal teasing, harmless stuff. Certainly nothing I hadn't done before, and a lot less than she usually did on a first date. Things didn't get "interesting" in the way that you would care about until the following Wednesday, but that comes later. I guess I should take the opportunity now to describe her. Later I had difficulty figuring out whether I went out with her for her body, or because I was honestly attracted to her mentally. I felt guilty about that for a while, until I realized that, yes, originally I asked her out because I thought I wanted sex, but it rapidly became more than that. Anyway, moving along, Lani was a gymnast. This is, I think, most guys' not-so-secret and not shameful fantasy, and well justified it is. She could, and still can, put her legs behind her head, do a full splits in any position, and numerous other feats of flexibility. Being a gymnast wasn't easy for her; she's five-three and one hundred thirty-five pounds of fairly solid muscle. That's a lot to fling around on a mat and twist around bars. Gymnastics had its advantages for Lani, too. It gave her that supple body, the "thighs of steel" and noticeably bulging calves that she took great pride in flexing and showing by pointing her toes. Though she complained about her lack of upper-body strength, she could do one-armed pushups with ease, as well as upside-down, against the wall pushups. Her biceps didn't bulge, but they lent a nice firmness to her arms that went along quite nicely with the rest of her figure. Her butt was firm, but strangely soft and round in a somehow perfect way. Her breasts were medium-sized, but well-shaped and firm in their own right, easily filling a C-cup. All in all, a not-unattractive figure, even in clothes that can only be described as "middle-schoolish". Ah well, what can one expect from a ninth-grader? Later that night, I went home and talked to her again on the phone until about two in the morning. She tried to convince me that phone sex is a good thing, so I tried it. It didn't work for me. Too bad that experience was wasted on me, I hear a lot of people pay good money to get that sort of thing. Most of it had to do with sex, running my hands across her back, mud, and hot showers; I leave the rest to your vivid imagination. That Sunday and the next two days in school passed quickly. That Tuesday night I threw a party and had a bunch of friends over. We played Abuse (a truly wonderful game, no? Let's hear it for Bungie!), stuffed ourselves silly, and watched the Aliens trilogy (back in the days when it was still a trilogy). The next morning, sleep deprived and happy, we went to see Alien: Resurrection. We were disappointed with it, to say the least. It didn't even come close to the standards set by the other three movies. If you disagree, that's your prerogative; go write your own story. The point to this sidenote is that while we were watching Resurrection my parents went down to New York City, to stay over Thanksgiving until Friday night. This was good for me, since it meant Lani could come over for the afternoon without any, shall we say, "Imperial entanglements". She was agreeable, even eager, though why, I don't know. I wouldn't be described as scrawny by any means. I'm five-ten and two twenty. It's not all muscle, and yes, I do have some insecurities about my weight. But nothing that interferes with my daily life. I'm strong enough to more than hold my own, and if I lost weight, I could even be described as handsome (forgive my immodesty). But I've never considered myself to be someone a girl would be "eager" to make out with. Just goes to show you how hormonal Lani is. But she did come over for the afternoon, and we did start making out on my couch. I suggested we go up to my room, and we did. After a little fooling around, we ended up lying next to each other, holding each other and smiling. WAKE UP!! This is where it starts to get interesting, for all of you who've been dropping off. Sorry the intro took so long, but this is my story, dammit, and I'll tell it the way I want to. I'm omitting minor details, like her plan to get me drunk and fuck me, the amusing phone call from an old friend at an inconvenient time, the fact that Lani's bisexual, and the embarrassing bathroom break I had to take; I hope you'll understand. Our making out got a little more serious. Her kissing became more passionate and eager, and I placed my hand over her breast. She wrapped her thighs around my left leg and rubbed herself against it while I took off her shirt. After a few seconds, I gave up on her bra and asked her to take it off, which she did. I kissed her on the nose, on the lips, slowly down her neck, rubbing my tongue along it, down her breast, and latched onto her nipple, which became erect and hard under the urgings of my teeth and tongue. I must say, for my first time, I think I didn't do too badly. I rubbed her other breast, moved back up her body, up along her arched neck, and kissed her on the mouth, long and deep. We lay awhile holding each other until she giggled. "What?" I asked. "I just had a thought," she said. "I don't know if I should share it, so I'll just tell you and let you decide what to do about it. I can take my pants off if you leave yours on." Hold it, you may think. She's fourteen, you're seventeen, this is bordering on statutory rape. But bear with me, rape was the furthest thing from either of our minds. In response, I reached down and undid her jeans, pulling them down off her legs, leaving only her panties on. I then undid my own belt and took off my shirt. I kissed her again and moved my left hand over her panties, starting to rub them. "Stop teasing me," she said. I reached under her underwear and found the right hole. It wasn't hard, it was the warmest and most moist one. I stuck a finger in, slowly and hesitantly, and she smiled. I kissed her. "You can use more than one finger, you know. And don't be afraid of pushing a little harder." I stuck in my middle finger to join the index and pushed farther, harder, and faster. She began to moan. I licked her nipples again for good measure. Her nether regions kept getting wetter, stickier, and hotter while her moaning got louder. I never did manage to get her to orgasm, but I think I might've been damn close. I pulled off her panties and went down to investigate. I guess you could describe the odor as pungent. I didn't like it, and I told her I'd rather not eat her, let's just be together, okay? She agreed, we kissed some more, and now, with the magic of storytelling, I'll spare you the conversation we had. She looked over at the clock, and said, "It's 3:03. Time to make a wish!" I dunno, she has some weird thing with numbers and wishes. I never quite figured that out any more than I figured out her obsession with blood, vampires, and ESP. I asked her what she wished for, and she replied that if she told me, it wouldn't come true. "If you tell me, though, it might come true. C'mon, what'd you wish for?" I asked. "Mmm," she replied. "I wish that you would eat me." Well, it's hard to refuse when it's phrased that way. Down I went, and, overcoming my repulsion, I found myself enjoying it for a while. My tongue stabbed deep into her vagina, I licked around. I started getting enthusiastic, and licked and sucked for what must've been ten minutes, but seemed longer and shorter at the same time. Eventually, I came back up her body, licked her nipples for a while, and kissed her. She grabbed the back of my head and practically rammed my face into hers, kissing me more forcefully than I've ever kissed or been kissed before or since. Her tongue stabbed deep into my throat; she ground her thighs around my leg, nestling the erection in my pants against her side, and humped my leg until I was afraid she'd stain my pants with her cream. "Is there anything you would like?" she whispered into my ear. Shyly, I said yeah, would she please wrap her thighs around me and squeeze? She smiled, unhinged her thighs from my legs, and wrapped them around my middle. She pulsed them gently for a while. "Harder," I whispered. She ground into me, but never really got into it, and realistically, I don't know what I had been expecting. I don't think even a gymnast stands a chance of really hurting me with her thighs. Finally, her legs went back around mine and we started fondling and kissing again. "Fuck me," she growled. Naturally, the first thing that came to my responsible young mind was "but I don't have a condom" closely followed by "now, that would be a violation of our agreement, wouldn't it?" But, not being a fucking moron, I didn't voice either thought. Instead, I made the incredibly intelligent and witty remark "Uh, I can't." She looked at me in surprise, shock momentarily overcoming hormones. "What do you mean, you can't?" "Oh, no, it's not that," I said. "I mean, I can't let myself have sex with you. I told you I wouldn't fuck you at the beginning of our relationship (five days ago) and if I slept with you now, it wouldn't be love and you'd hate me. Please, Lani, I can't." After that, our once- passionate embraces and kissing degenerated into a sort of half-hearted french kissing and fondling session. Eventually, I got up and told her to put her clothes on, it was time for me to drive her home. On the long drive back to her house, she eventually looked up and said "Thank you." "What for?" I asked, concentrating on the road. "For not fucking me. For keeping your promise. Just, thank you." I reached over and gave her thigh a squeeze. "Hey, no problem, Lani. It's not that I don't want to, but I hope you can understand, I've decided not to have sex in high school and I'm definitely not going to fuck someone I've only been going out with for a few days." "Yeah, I do understand. Like I said, thank you." Something similar happened that Friday after Thanksgiving, but it got interrupted by a discussion of her past life. She broke down and I had to support her, which I was glad to do. That Friday was the last time I saw her while we were still going out, because on Sunday she decided she was tired of dealing with boyfriends and guilt and herself, so she dumped me. She still has problems, I think most of them stemming from the fact that there's something deep within herself she doesn't like and can't deal with. She's back to bouncing from guy to guy, mostly her "old type". I think I still hold the record as the most straight-and-narrow, basically decent guy she's ever gone out with. Now, looking back on it after two months, I can swallow my bitterness and anger over having been dumped after only a week, and feel sorry for Lani. She never felt for me what I felt for her, and I don't know if she'll ever be capable of it. I still talk to her once in a while, and still feel sad over what I lost, but while I'll eventually find the girl I'm looking for, I don't know if she'll ever find the happiness she's looking for. That's the real sad part. She'll always be able to find a guy to fill her pussy, but I don't know if she'll ever let anybody fill her heart.