by KT Morrison
“... they changed her, Ken. She’s not the same girl.”
Ken’s face was grim, and it made Max assume he’d caught a glimpse of the photo of his sister’s bared privates. He also heard the plural implication: They changed her.
“She is impressionable,” he agreed quietly.
“I know. She’s an innocent. Smarter than me by a mile, but too trusting, too credulous.”
Ken nodded, his mouth turned down, and he looked like his stomach had got tight.
Max said, “Cole made her apply to Law School. He just wants her to be with him, he doesn’t care about her future. He cares about his future.”
6
Inches
Saturday, October 21st
With her ear still planted in the 'F' of Cole’s sweatshirt, she listened to his heart beating and she watched languidly down his body. Her eyes traced the shape of his cock pressing against the front of his shorts. He wasn’t hard, just merely aroused by the things they had done and the prospects. Max hadn’t got back to them yet. Made no comment on the dirty, but hopefully fun picture they sent.
Cole said, “Do you think he might be mad?”
“No,” she sighed. “He might be busy. His Mom loves to spend time with him when he’s there. God, so does his Dad.” Vestiges of her mother’s controlling words worked over her shoulders.
She extended a finger to the flap of his fly, ran it over the frayed cotton, let it fall off the ridge of the fly and onto the side of his cock. She felt it under the material, felt the torpid resistance, pliant yet resilient; let her finger trace its length, found the ridge of his cock head under the foreskin. His cock lay sideways toward a hip, and she ran her finger forward and backward, witnessing it swell against the fabric.
Now she bounced off the bed, hurdling his body like a gymnast over a balance beam. Landing on the floor, she trotted over to Jessie’s things.
Cole said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for something,” she said. She had one of Jessie’s drawers open and was rifling through, picturing what she was looking for, knowing it had to be here somewhere.
“Found it,” she exclaimed when her hands scooped it up. She walked back toward him with two hands rolling it out, showing him with a cheeky smile what she held.
“A tape measure?” he said.
“We’re going to measure you.”
“Oh, my God, Maggie. Seriously?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna measure ...”
He rolled his eyes, said, “Welcome to high school.”
She flinched, feeling suddenly very stupid. He saw the effect his words had and his face was instantly sorry. The damage was done, her feelings deeply hurt. She dropped her arms to her sides, the length of measuring tape between her hands dangling like a skipping rope.
Cole said, “Shit, Maggie, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“We don’t have to,” she said.
The smile never left his face, and he swung his hips so his feet were on the floor, reached out and took both her wrists and pulled her to the bed. She fell on top of him, her face turned away. He rolled onto his back with her and lay her next to him.
“Aw, did I hurt your feelings? Did I hurt your whittle fee-fees?” he said, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. She saw though that his face was serious.
“Is it juvenile?”
“No. It’s fun. I was just trying to be funny. You can do it.”
“Is it stupid?”
“No, Maggie. It’s fun. I mean it, it really is. I want you to. I was just trying to act like I wasn’t into it. You’re being playful. And I think I’m in love with playful Maggie.”
“Are you sure?” she said, sitting up on one hip.
“I’m totally sure. I was just trying to be funny, but I sounded like a jerk. I demand that you do it.”
“I feel so stupid now,” she said, averting her eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” he said. “I don’t want to have to force you to measure it.” His hands came together at his waist, already unbuttoning his pants. The second time today that he was going to reveal himself to her. On a day where she had sworn that she wouldn’t sleep with him. But this wasn’t sleeping, this was just fun. It was friendly, funny, and like he said: she was playful Maggie. This is how they would have behaved before she’d ever been intimate with him. Similar, but of course a lot dirtier.
“Good,” she said, shaking away the hurt. “I want to measure it.”
Cole zipped his fly down, pushed his pants and shorts to his thighs. She watched that thing he had bouncing on his leg. As he kicked his shorts down. He said, “You’re in luck, because my dick is getting so hard from how fucking smart you are.”
“How smart I am?” she laughed.
“It’s a turn on.”
She slumped onto her heels, closed her eyes and cocked her head like she’d fallen asleep. She pretended to snore. “Zzz-zzz,” she mocked.
Cole laughed, said, “Oh, sorry. I say smart? I meant because you’re so hot.”
“Now I’m waking up,” she said fluttering her eyes as if she had been asleep. When they opened she saw deep into Cole’s blues as he stared at her. “What?” she said.
He nudged his chin, pointing low down his body, between his legs, a charming smile on his face.
“What?” she repeated.
“Well?” He thrust his hips a little and his heavy cock bounced on his leg.
“Oh,” she laughed. “I don’t think it’s appropriate, Cole. I just do the measuring,” she said, running the tape measure tight between her two hands and smiling back at him over it. “You’re responsible for the hardening.”
“Let me put it to you this way, Maggie: That tape measure doesn’t touch me until I’m a hundred-and-ten percent. Know what I’m saying? You know how I get cranked to eleven?”
“Do it and I’ll watch. You got hard without trouble when I drew you.”
“Novelty. Novelty gets me hard.”
“My hand on your penis isn’t exactly novel.”
“Novelty and direct contact by the most beautiful girl at Farmingham,” he said, batting his eyelashes.
She regarded him coolly, but stayed motionless.
He sighed, reached to her wrist, took her hand and put it over his bare cock, and she couldn’t stifle a giggle though she tried.
“I can feel your pulse in it,” she whispered.
“God,” he laughed, rolled his eyes, “You sound exactly like the school nurse.”
She laughed and lightly spanked his balls, making him jump and draw up his knees.
“Ow, hey,” he laughed.
“Behave,” she scolded him, put her grip around his soft cock and played with it.
The stormy light from the windows was bright enough to fully illuminate her lover’s cock in her hand. She stroked her thumb on it, tugged playfully on his foreskin, then peeled it right back and squeezed tight so his cock head squirted out of its sleeve then darkened and swelled roundly. Cole grew hard in her hand. She was silent the whole time, listening to her heart beating in her ears, slick skin on skin sounds, and the damp crackle of Cole’s foreskin. She’d grown so tense and focused she was grinding her teeth.
She whispered, “Max isn’t small, right?”
“Maggie, I told you—I don’t know.” Then he watched her a moment, thinking. “No. I don’t think he looks small. He has a normal one. Why do you think it’s small?”
“I don’t. Not really. Sometimes I like to tell him he’s small,” she said, letting Cole’s throbbing erection lay on his belly.
“Why?”
“I think he likes it. You should see his face.” She mimicked her Maxy for him, showed him that mean-but-hurt paradox he assumed. Cole started laughing, and she struggled to keep the face going, her mouth kept stretching to smile.
“Wait, wait, stop laughing,” she said, slapping his knee. She shook her head to clear the giggles, re-assumed her impression of Max, then in a low, dumb voice, she said, “Is it sm
all? Maggie ...” but she couldn’t continue. Cole had turned red from laughing, clasping his face in his hands and bellowing into them. She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe, bent over until her forehead touched the sheets. She went into a coughing fit.
“Don’t laugh,” Cole choked, “that’s mean.”
“You’re laughing.”
“I’m laughing at you. Laughing at your impression.”
“Fine, fine. I love my Max,” she sighed, wiping at her cheeks. Then looking down at his erection, gaging its rigidity with her eyes, she said, “I think you’re ready.”
“I am. Go ahead,” he said, and he went to his back and laced his hands behind his head, his cock so hard it stuck up toward his chest and wagged stiffly with his movements.
Maggie said, “So how do you do this?” winding the tape measure around an index finger and then unwinding it.
Cole said, “Use a tape measure? You’ve ever used a tape measure?”
“Ha, ha, I mean do you do it from the side? From where?”
Cole said, “I don’t know, I had a summer internship at a dick measuring company but they never let me work the ruler ...”
“The top, right?” she said.
Cole ran his fingertips up and down his shaft, keeping it turgid. He said, “I wouldn’t mind if you measured it from the mattress up.”
“No cheating,” she laughed.
“The top,” he said.
While she hesitated, stifling a wider smile she watched her friend as he looked at his own penis in his grip. Watched as he probably brought up his dirtiest thoughts so he would maximize his reading. Smiled to herself wondering what those dirty thoughts might be.
“Okay,” she said, “let me,” and she lay her hands on his belly, slid the heels down to his crotch so his penis was straight up in the air. Cole held himself just below the glans between a thumb and forefinger. She pressed the end of the tape into his pubic hair and then ran the plastic material straight up, taking over for his hand and gripping him, letting the tape scroll over the bulbous end of him. She read it, said, “Um, seven and a bit ...”
Cole said, “And a bit? Seven-and-a-half. Clearly seven-and-a-half.”
“Hmm,” she grumbled. “Kind of like seven-and-a-quarter, Cole.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, the loss of that quarter-inch is probably your fault. It’s taking too long. Too clinical ...”
“Should I go put on lingerie?”
“Oh, my God, you’re joking but I seriously would fucking love that.”
“I don’t really have any lingerie.”
“Totally naked works too,” he said, and ran a hand over her bare knee.
“What’s normal for length? Six inches?”
Cole shrugged. “I guess.”
“I think it’s six.”
“Google it.”
“I don’t want that in my search history.”
“Please, I’d go to jail for my search history.”
She ignored him, smirking, said, “Okay, lay it on your belly.”
Cole did, giving himself a couple of strokes again, flexing his stomach muscles and his hips, and she watched the shaft of his cock widen and bulge.
She said, “Can you move it?”
“What? Where?”
“No, you just flexed it.”
“Oh.” He took his hand away, flexed it again a few times making it jump up and down, and she fought a giggle that bubbled up inside her, fear of being called a high-schooler again.
“Very muscular, Cole,” she said.
“He and I go to the same gym.”
“Okay,” she laughed, then ran the back of her wrist over her cheeks, feeling hot and damp.
“Would you just admit you’re horny?”
“No.”
“You are.”
She smirked. “No, I’m not.”
“Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t want to fuck me right now.”
“Nope.”
“Drawing me naked, measuring my dick, showing me your pussy ...? Can we just fuck already? You’re driving me crazy.”
Now she did giggle. “All right, all right, let’s see ...” She slipped the tape measure underneath it, then took both sides of the tape and sawed it back and forth under his shaft until she got it snug. She put the zero in the center of his shaft, held in place with the tip of her thumb and wound the tape around. She said, “Almost seven.”
“Almost? Just call it seven.”
“God, what does it matter?”
“What does it matter? You’re asking me? You’re the one that wanted to measure it.”
“Well, I just know it’s big.” Then she said, “So, what’s normal for girth?”
“No idea.”
“I think you’re much bigger than normal.”
“Thank you.”
“Not that I have a lot of experience or anything. You’re bigger than Max, and thicker than Jay. But Jay was pretty thick, and, like, really long, too.”
“Fuck off with that.”
“What?” she asked, worried, seeing he wasn’t joking.
“Fuck off with that.”
“But yours is perfect. My absolute favorite. And ... it’s yours.”
He stayed expressionless.
She said, “I love your balls. The way they hang, and how big they are ...” she held his balls and ran a thumb over the tops of them.
“I don’t play those games, you know? The ones that Max likes. That’s cool ... you know ... for him. I get him, I love him. I don’t get off hearing about you with another guy. I hate it. Max is okay. Obviously. But I don’t want to know one detail about you and anyone else.”
“You don’t think it’s hot?” she asked, thumb still stroking a testicle.
“Not in the slightest.”
“Are you mad at me?”
He sat up partially, gripped the front of her sweatshirt and pulled her to his kiss. She let herself be taken, let him kiss her fully because she felt like she might have hurt his whittle fee-fee now and she didn’t want that. She kissed him back, slow at first then a little quicker, a little deeper. When they broke away he said, “You want to turn me on, you tell me how you want only me. I’ll tell you the same.”
She licked her lips and held his gaze until she couldn’t anymore and it drifted down between them. “Lay back,” she whispered. Now she slowly put a knee on the other side of him, straddling his thighs but tugging her sweatshirt down to hide her bare sex from him.
He whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she said.
He rested his hands on her bare thighs, and she let him stroke up and down. She walked herself a little higher, felt the heat from his erection between her legs.
“I feel you, you know,” he said.
“I feel you, too.”
“Let me put it in you.”
“No.”
“Jesus, Maggie,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”
“Can’t we just be friends, Cole,” she chuckled.
“You’re so silly,” he said, smiling warmly at her.
His hips began to sway a little, and she could feel the slightest tickle as the underside of his shaft stroked along her sex. She was undeniably aroused, the touch of him against her slippery like oil. She planted her hands on either side of his waist and looked in his eyes, hers narrow, mimicking his. Both of them stifling wider smiles, waiting for the other to break first. But they were both steely and disciplined, and neither would give in. She lowered her hips and let her sex rest on his hardness. His lips twitched.
His thumbs began to make circles on her thigh. She let her sex slip farther up his shaft. When he groaned finally, she did as well. Giving in felt glorious.
Now he let go, chuckling briskly, his hands working up and down her thighs a little more enthusiastically.
With her eyes still on his she reached between them and took the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted it a little higher. Cole’s eyes dipped down, and she fol
lowed them. Saw his thick erection between her thighs, the shining rosy end of him peeking out of its wrinkled sleeve. Such a dirty but welcome sight and it got her moaning again.
“Tell me about it,” he whispered before groaning as well.
She worked her hips up and down, letting the slit of her opening run along the cable on the underside of his cock. Both of them watched between their legs. Cole lifted her sweatshirt higher, helping her, running his thumbs underneath and lifting it as high as her belly button.
She moaned and groaned, chuckling and sighing. Her eyes down again, feeling herself running more and more slick, her sweat building inside, Cole’s thumbs ran circles on her tummy and he got her vision narrow again. She bit and sucked her lips, fought the urge to lean forward and take his mouth with hers, let him grip that thing and put it up inside her, instead continued her teasing though she suffered as badly as he did. She ran her hips high, the opening of her pussy slipping right up over his glans, feeling its slick rounded shape slightly part her folds, and she polished it with her wetness using just the swiveling of her hips.
“Oh, fuck,” Cole sighed and his eyelids fluttered.
She squeezed her muscles, her opening snagging on his foreskin and she reeled her hips back and exposed his glans fully, the pure sexual sight of his sensitive bulb completely exposed making her eyes flutter now too.
Cole whispered, “You’ve got a good grip. You’ve got a strong pussy.”
She laughed, let her head fall forward, hunched her back, let her slick stripe slip along his underside, and squashed it down on his scrotum.
He said, “I have so much fun with you.”
She said, “Me, too. With you.”
“Let me put it in you. Just one time. In and out.”
“No,” she groaned, feeling herself leaking over his balls, feeling their soft shapes slipping over her slickness. “Send Max a picture with my, you know, girl parts on it.”
“No, don’t do that ...”
“Why not?”
“Don’t be mean to Max.”
“It’s not mean. He likes it. You know he likes it.”