Stacy 5 - Sex Stories

Stacy 5

... through the steam covered mirror, I could see the panic on Stacy's face. "What? Uh, no! No, of course he's not! Er... no girlfriend, no. Nobody. That is... not that I know of." Considering the brat prided herself on her rapier-like verbal skills, she was making a spectacularly bad job of the denial. She seemed to register that fact and tried to correct it, but only dug the hole deeper. "No girlfriend what-so-ever. None. Ah, yes, no girlfriend. Jack is single. Free. Not attached to anybody. Definitely no girlfriend at the moment." Talk about the lady protesting too much! "Well," Kim said, with a hint of coolness in her voice. "If he did have a girlfriend, let's say hypothetically, and she was worried that he might screw around, then she should do something about it." "Like what?" Stacy asked, weakly. "Like make sure he wasn't interested in getting laid by Emma this afternoon." "H-h-how would she do that? Hypothetically." "Baby, that's simple," Kim said, lifting a hand and tucking a wet strand of hair behind Stacy's ear, tenderly. "She just has to drain him. Make sure that his balls are empty and that he is too satisfied with what he has to go looking for it somewhere else." For a long moment, the two teens stared deep into each others eyes, then Kim sighed. "Look Stacy, there's something you should know. Last night, I woke up because I needed to pee..." The sound of the front door bell startled me. Realising I could be seen if the two girls looked toward the mirror, I ...

... ducked back and hurried downstairs to see who it was. Throwing my towel around my neck, and dr****g it over each shoulder, I opened the door. Stood on the step, was Amber. The lovely little redhead was dressed in a white blouse that must have been a size too small for her, judging by how tight it was. Below that, she had on a loose, pleated, tartan miniskirt that hung down to the middle of her slim, milky white thighs. She also wore white stockings that had a little trim of ribbon around the tops and came to just above her knees, about two inches below the hem of her skirt, and a pair of black mules. The thumbs of both hands were hooked into the red straps of her tiny backpack; like Stacy's it was so small it must have been almost useless, but that's girls for you. "Uh, hi Mister Harrison. Is Stacy home?" She dropped her emerald green eyes away from me. I guess being ten years older than Stacy and her friends qualified me as a mister to them. Ouch. "Mister Harrison is my father, Amber. Call me Jack. Sure, Stacy's in, come inside." I stepped aside for her to enter, and she ducked by quickly. Closing the door, I followed her into the front room, where she turned to face me when she reached the middle. I smiled at her nervous expression. "Sit down, Amber, and I'll go tell the bra... Stacy that you're here. Can I get you a drink?" "Oh, er, no thank you. I'd better not have any alcohol, I think I had my year's share yesterday, and we're going to make arrangements for the comp on ...