Such a Naughty Boy

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Such a Naughty Boy
by rat_race



As I was standing there facing that bathroom vanity counter top that day, raised up onto the balls of my feet and methodically hand-pumping my fully-erect penis, barely moments away from ejaculating my semen directly onto the carefully-placed, flattened-out crotch of Susie’s panties, I had no idea just how much of an impact that this single, depraved sex act would end up having on me.

But when I finally opened my eyes (as my orgasmic sensations were slowly easing up), and I saw all the little globs and streamers of my freshly-ejaculated sperm all over the crotch-panel of those previously-clean panties–and also saw my now-mildly-pulsating dick-head, with its seemingly-endless little stream of sperm that was still oozing out of my piss-hole slit to fall almost straight downward and land right “on-target”–I realized that I had just done something very perverted; and at the same time, extremely exciting. I knew that I had once again managed to crossover into the world of sexual perversion, and I didn’t care one single bit. In fact, I wondered when I would get the chance to do it again.

But most of all, I wondered if Susie would eventually put these adulterated panties on, and wear them.

But let me back up a little bit, and start this story from a point where all of this might make a little more sense to you.

As a teenager, I used to hang out at Davy’s house a lot. He was a very good friend of mine, who just happened to live on the same street as me in our neighborhood. So it was very easy for me to walk over to Davy’s house any time that I wanted to.

During that one particular summer, I had been hanging around at Davy’s house so much, that his mother and his two sisters pretty much treated me as part of their family. I went out places with them, ate meals with them, and so forth.

But one of my favorite things to do was to hang out with Davy in his bedroom. And we would talk about all sorts of teenager kind of stuff, usually while building incredibly realistic-looking, kit-based model cars together. That was Davy’s hobby and his passion. And he was a true expert at assembling, painting and detailing model cars.

At any rate, it was late in the afternoon on a Saturday, and I was over at Davy’s house, visiting with him.

It also just happened to be the very next day after we had both secretly witnessed his younger sister, Susie, and her best friend, Sharon, making love (tribbing together) in the back yard of Sharon’s house. And of course, that topic was the very first thing that Davy and I talked about, once we were safely inside Davy’s bedroom, with the bedroom door closed.

“So how did you know about Susie and Sharon last night?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” Davy replied cryptically. “I mean, I’ve had my suspicions about Susie for a while. That’s why I warned you about getting serious with her. I just knew that she’d be a real heart-breaker, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“What do you mean by ‘you had your suspicions’?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed like every time I turned around, either Sharon was having another sleepover with Susie here at our house, or Susie was having a sleepover with Sharon at her house. I mean, don’t you think those girls are a little bit too old to be having sleepovers all the time? It just struck me as a little strange, that’s all. And then there’s the way those two behaved around each other. What with all their kissing, and hugging, and holding hands, and stuff like that. I knew that something just didn’t feel ‘right’ about their relationship.”

“But how did you know to come and get me, and take me over to Sharon’s house last night?”

“I didn’t originally come over for that reason. I was coming over to see if you wanted to sneak out with me, and have a smoke,” said Davy.

(Davy and I were the proud owners of two very-inexpensive corn cob pipes and some crappy drugstore pipe tobacco that we used to secretly smoke, while we were talking with each other during our late-night sneak-outs).

“But when I started walking to your house,” Davy continued, “I noticed lots of giggling and some other weird sounds coming from Sharon’s back yard, and so I went over to check it out. And when I looked over the wall, I could barely believe what I was seeing. So I left and came straight over to your house, figuring that you, of all people, deserved to see what I saw.”

“Wow! Well, thanks for comin’ to get me,” I said. “I’m not gonna lie to you. That was one of the most incredible things that I’ve ever seen!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Davy quickly agreed. “How do you think I feel? I was watching my own little sister ‘gettin’ it on’ with another girl, right in front of me.”

“Did that turn you on?” I asked. “I mean, I saw your hand down in your crotch, while we were watching the girls go at it.”

“Hey, look who’s talking. I saw your hand too. Come on, admit it. You were jacking it off inside your pants, just like I was.”

“Oh, hell yes, I was jacking it off. I actually spermed my underwear,” I finally admitted.

“Oh, gee. What a surprise!” Davy said, very sarcastically. “Like I didn’t.”

“Well, I did it twice!” I blurted out in an automatic attempt to one-up Davy, but then suddenly realized that that was something that Davy really didn’t need–or want–to know.

And after an awkward moment of silence, Davy said to me in an overly-serious tone-of-voice, “God, I hate sticky underwear. Don’t you?” And then he grinned from ear-to-ear, before finally busting out in laughter. And of course, I followed suit.

Finally Davy got serious again, but this time it was obvious to me that his seriousness was very real, as he said to me, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’ve always ‘had the hots’ for Sharon. And you’ve gotta admit, she was smokin’ hot last night! God, that girl’s got an awesome set of ‘gazongas’ on her!”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” I agreed; even though the truth was that I would always prefer Susie’s puffed-out, little breast-bud mounds over Sharon’s big, bouncing boobies any day of the week. And it was Susie–not Sharon–that I was fantasizing about, later that same evening, when I finally left Davy’s house, went back home, and inevitably ended up jacking myself off.

“Too bad she’s a lesbian,” I intentionally remarked as dead pan as I could.

“Yeah. Too bad,” Davy agreed, with a forced serious look on his face.

And then after a moment of staring each other down with serious looks on our faces, we both broke out laughing again. This time even harder. To the point that my abdominal muscles started hurting, and I had to do whatever I could to force myself to stop laughing.

Before I get any further into this story, I need to give you a little more background information about Davy’s unique and eccentric family.

Davy’s mother, Caroline, was a gorgeous-looking woman! She was a dead ringer for the famous actress, Elizabeth Taylor, back when Ms. Taylor was in her mid to late 30’s. And it wasn’t only Caroline’s face and her hair that looked like Ms. Taylor’s, either. It was her body, too.

I know, because I had seen Caroline’s curvaceous, naked body every time that I walked into the front living room of Davy’s house. There was a 4-foot-tall, oil-painted-on-canvas, full-color portrait of Davy’s totally nude mother, striking a very provocative pose–with her big boobs hanging out for all to see.

Caroline was also a very sweet person.