The Best Week Of My Life Part 1

I’ll preface this by saying that I wrote these almost 5 years ago just after I got out of high school and I published these on a different site through my username on there (meaning these are all mine).
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I sat alone on my back porch in a green metal deck chair, listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s newest album, &#034God & Guns&#034 on my iPod, chilling out, knocking back a cooler full of my older cousin’s Stags and his Millers, watching the heat lightning paint the northwestern sky a golden colour and smoking a cigarette. I reveled in the glory of finally graduating from high school a few weeks before. I smiled and became lost in a tranquil silence. That silence was soon broken by the swishing sounds of someone walking across the grass of the neighbors’ lawns and approaching our house.

&#034Thought you quit, Will.&#034

I opened my eyes slowly, smiled, and found Stephanie standing a few feet away from the porch on our back lawn. &#034Hey, Stephanie. What’s up?&#034 I said with a bit of a Southern drawl

Stephanie was a 5’2 dirty blonde with brown eyes, an athletically trim body from running track and cross-country for the last 2 years and had budding b-cup breasts. I moved from Alabama to Illinois when I was 10 and met Stephanie, who was 2 years younger than me.&#034Not much, Will. Just standing in my backyard and watching the heat lightning. Saw you up the way and figured it was you. You shouldn’t be sitting in that chair. You’re liable to get yourself struck.&#034

&#034Yeah, I suppose so.&#034 I said, getting up, grounding out my cigarette on the porch and placing my beer down. I reached inside the cooler and pulled out a beer for Stephanie.

&#034I’ll pass. Not a big fan of Stag.&#034

Shrugging it off, I placed the unopened can back in the cooler and continued to drink the one I had open.

&#034So…Will?&#034

&#034Hmm?&#034 I said through the can.

&#034I hear you think you’re hot stuff.&#034

I felt a big gulp come in my throat and felt a little bit more alcohol pour down.

&#034Who’d you hear that from?&#034 I said, finishing the can.

&#034Who do you think?&#034

&#034Erin.&#034 I thought to myself and instantly felt myself go hard as a rock. Erin was a softball player at my high school and was in the same grade as Stephanie.

&#034So is it true?&#034

&#034Yep. You got that right.&#034

Stephanie stepped closer to me.

&#034Ah, I didn’t know you were going camping so soon.&#034

I looked at her in confusion and finally said, &#034What do y’all mean by that?&#034

&#034Looks like you’re pitching a tent there, big guy.&#034

The flashes of dying heat lightning made it almost clear as day to Stephanie. I attempted to shift my position to make it less noticeable.

&#034Leave it.&#034 Stephanie said in a low, sultry voice.

&#034What?&#034

&#034You heard me. Looks like you got a party going on there, Mind if I join it?&#034

&#034What are you saying there, Steph?&#034

&#034I’m sayin’…&#034 She paused. &#034Catch me if you can. There’s a special treat for you if you can.&#034

This aroused me. I could only wonder what my prize would be. I was in cross-country my sophomore year and in track my junior and senior years, lettering both years in the 100 and 200 metre dashes and also both shot put and discus, despite the only male thrower under 6’1 and under 150 lbs (I stand 5’8 and weigh 135 lbs. 9 9/14 stones for you overseas readers). Whatever the matter, I was ready for anything, as I had been both self-educated by watching porn and also being educated by my friend Corey (who wasn’t new to sex at all and taught me almost everything he knew he left with the Navy overseas) and also receiving a tip from the late comedian Sam Kinison while watching a movie of his best stuff and learning that you can speed up the process of eating puss by licking out the alphabet. I had also begun jacking off about 2 summers ago to help prepare myself for it.

&#034Well?&#034 Stephanie said, teasing me. &#034Whatcha gonna do, big guy? You gonna come get me or what?&#034

&#034You’re on!&#034 I said, taking off after her, stumbling a little at first.

After a few hundred metres illuminated by the occasional flash of heat lightning, I was able to catch her in a bear hug.

&#034You win, Will.&#034 Stephanie said with fake resignation and a smile.

&#034Great!&#034 I said. &#034What’s my prize?&#034

Stephanie grinned from ear to ear and took me by the hand. &#034Right this way.&#034 She led me back down to her house, inside and down into her room in the basement. Both of her older b*****rs had moved out a long time ago, one, Mike, away with his girlfriend’s boy at their grandmother’s for the week and another, Josh, happily married.Her dad passed away when Stephanie was in 4th grade and her mom away with Mike. Her little b*****r, Justin, a year younger than her was also away at his best friend Ian’s for the night, leaving the house totally empty as her mom had long since trusted Stephanie to be home alone since before she was 16, except for their old border collie, Buddy, who came running through the kitchen, barking.

&#034Ssh! Go away, Buddy! Go lie down!&#034 Stephanie whispered, then turning back to me. I tried to stifle a laugh then and there, but I couldn’t. Stephanie looked at me with a semi-serious face. &#034Go downstairs. I’ll deal with YOU in a moment.&#034 She turned on the switch at the top of the stairs as I began my descent down into the warm, insulated basement and left me for a minute to go shoo Buddy away back to his doggy bed. She returned and began her way down the stairs, when she missed the last step. I, being quick and light on my feet, caught her easily. I looked down and saw where my right hand was located: on her left breast. I gave a little squeeze and that’s when the fireworks began.

-End of Part 1-