"Really?" Cindy smiled. "And what is that?"
"Extensive personal research." I told her, letting my fingertip glide over the back of her hand. "Do you like to research?"
Tracy's return kept her from replying. She had plates of burritos and fresh cokes in her hands. Her eyes saw my fingertip caressing Cindy's hand and she shot another puzzled look at her friend. I could understand the source of her confusion. Cindy had always gone for the football player types. The good looking, rich boys from good families, and always older than her. Now she was shamelessly flirting with ME, her brother, who was not only not rich, not a football player, and not blessed with the rugged good looks of a Ken doll, but was two years younger than her as well. To Tracy it was probably as if the fabric of existence had suddenly developed a tear.
I got up to go take a leak (and to adjust my hard-on a little, it was bent at an uncomfortable angle). When I returned I could see that the two girls had been discussing something. Cindy was batting her eyes at me and Tracy was staring at me, as if she was seeing a completely different person.
When Cindy got up to go pee a few minutes later, Tracy waited until the bathroom door was closed and then turned to me almost angrily. "Do you know what Cindy told me?" She asked.
"What?" I said mildly.
"She heard that you screwed Steph Massie over by the falls last week. Is that true?"
"No." I shook my head. "We took a walk is all that happened. Talked a little. I was trying to get somewhere with her but she wouldn't go for it."
"That's not what Cindy heard." Tracy accused.
"Oh?" I asked. "And what did Cindy hear? And what does she care about Steph anyway? They don't exactly hang out together."
Tracy scowled at me. "Who do you think Cindy got the buds from you idiot? Everyone knows that Stephanie's brother is the biggest pot dealer in school."
"Oh," I paused, reaching back in my memory. Now that she mentioned it I DID remember that little piece of trivia. "Well, what did she hear?"
"Steph told her that you took her into the woods and gave her the best lay she's ever had." Tracy shook her head in disgust. "And believe me, that bitch has had quite a few lays. Did you really fuck her?"
"No." I said. "I didn't."
"Well why would she be telling people that you did?"
I shrugged. "She's just telling dick stories. You know how women are always doing that."
"Dick stories?" Tracy asked. "Girls do NOT tell dick stories!"
"Tracy," I finally asked. "What possible concern is this of yours?"
"What?"
"Why are you grilling me about this? What business is it of yours?"
"Because Cindy thinks you're some kind of great lover and she wants to, you know? That's why!"
"Wouldn't that be Cindy's business?" I asked.
"I just think she should know the truth." Tracy said indignantly.
"Okay. Tell her. Get her alone and tell her that I said I've never fucked Steph or anyone else. Tell her I'll deny fucking anyone, anywhere, at any time to my dying day. I'll go to my deathbed swearing that I'm a virgin." I smiled. "Maybe that will get her to back off."
Tracy opened her mouth to say something and then stopped, staring at me, her mind turning over what I'd just said. Her exasperation with me slowly turned into something else. It was the same change of expression I'd seen on the cop's face in the hospital. The expression became one of respect.
"You see Trace." I continued. "I might TRY to get somewhere with Cindy tonight. I might even get her to come to my room with me. But I won't get anywhere with her. Even if we're up there for an hour. Even if Cindy comes down and tells you I fucked the shit out of her, that I was the best lover she'd ever had, it would only be a lie. I will never get anywhere with anyone to hear me tell it. I guess I'm doomed to just keep trying forever and ever."
"Wow." Tracy whispered, in awe. "Do you know anyone else like you?" She asked.
"Unfortunately, no." I replied. "All of the guys I know get pussy all the time. I should know, they tell me about it."
"A shame." She commented as the bathroom door opened and Cindy emerged again.
"Have you guys been talking about me?" She giggled, seeing the serious expressions on our faces.
"No." We both answered together.
"We were just talking about brother/sister stuff." Tracy added.
We went out to the garage and smoked a few more bowls. When we resumed our places on the couch, Cindy proclaimed she was cold and asked if there was a blanket we could cover up with. Tracy retrieved a large blue comforter from the linen closet and threw it over us. Under the cover of the cover I went to work.
While we watched TV my hand found its way to the tight denim of Cindy's leg.
I caressed it for a few minutes and, when she didn't object, began to slide it upward. My fingers slowly traced over the material between her legs and continued to the waistband. I deftly unbuttoned the first two buttons of her jeans and slid my finger in the gap this created, the pad of my finger touching the soft skin of her lower stomach. She settled into the couch a little more, opening her legs for me.
I undid the rest of the buttons and slowly slid my hand into her jeans, my fingertips gliding over the silky material of her panties, staying on the outside of them. I probed further down while she spread her legs even wider. Beneath my hand I could feel the cushion of her pubic hair and, further down, the outline of her lips and dampness seeping through the cotton. I found the spot just below her clit and began to apply pressure, rocking my hand back and forth.
Though I kept my eyes on the television and my face expressionless, I heard definite change in Cindy's breathing pattern as I caressed her. I wondered if she'd ever been stimulated like this before. Probably not. The first instinct of a guy when getting his hands down a girls pants is to drive his finger into the pussy and thrust it back and forth. Now there's a time for doing that of course, but the beginning stages of foreplay are not it. Females like a slow build-up to passion, a gradual rise in excitement.
Cindy's hand came sliding across my lap. Her fingers closed around the bulge of my cock through my sweat pants, feeling the length. She gave a little coo as she felt me and I had a difficult time keeping a straight face. She was, to my pleasant surprise, pretty good at what she was doing. My dick was straining, eager for release and the touch of a female hand upon it felt heavenly.
Next to us, Tracy continued to stare at the television, either oblivious to what we were doing or pretending to be. It didn't really matter. I slid my hand upward a few inches and then let my fingers slide beneath the waist of Cindy's panties. My fingertips felt soft, feminine skin and then kinky, curly hair. I continued downward, having to push harder now, until my fingers were sliding across wetness and slippery warmth. My middle finger curled downward, sliding between an unseen set of lips that gripped eagerly back.
"Ahhh!" Cindy uttered, jumping a little at the contact.
Tracy glanced over at her, a knowing expression on her face. "You okay Cindy?" She asked sweetly.
"Yeah." Cindy answered, a little breathlessly. "Just a, Oooh," She shivered a little as I began to move my finger, "A hiccup."
"I should get those kind of hiccups." Tracy commented and then went back to the TV.
Soon her hand crept under the waist of my sweats and was digging through my underwear. Her cool, soft fingertips closed around my shaft and began to glide up and down. It felt great, to be gripped by a hand other than my own, but she was doing it with such enthusiasm that the comforter was noticeably rising up and down. Tracy couldn't have helped but see it, though she said nothing and pretended not to notice. With my free hand I grabbed her wrist and forced her to slow down a little.
I continued to finger her, feeling my hand get wet from her juices, feeling her jack my aching cock up and down. I was trying to think of a way to get her up to my room when I received help from an unexpected source.