My Summer Job, Chapter One - Sex Stories

My Summer Job, Chapter One

The judge stared down at the defendant, a look of genuine concern on his face. “Ms. Hudspeth, before I pass sentence, I want to know what arrangements you have made for your son, Gregory.” The defendant looked sweetly at the judge, twirled her hair, and tried to be as appealing as possible in an orange jumpsuit. “Well, your honor, he turned eighteen today, so fuck him.” That’s me, Gregory Hudspeth. Or, Greg to my friends, G-Man to my really good friends, and G-Spot to my girlfriend. For my eighteenth birthday my mother gave me the best present ever. She went to jail for four years. Sure, she had been arrested before. Prostitution, drug possession, shoplifting, that kind of thing. But never more than a few days of jail at a time. This time she tried to diversify her revenue streams by selling coke to an undercover vice cop. Nobody knew where my father was. In fact, nobody knew who my father was. I’d gotten used to it. Now that I was on my own, it was time to celebrate. Dear old mom kept many bottles of cheap vodka at home. I’d developed a taste for it. She couldn’t track how many bottles there were from day to day, let alone how full they had been. Most of the time she was high, or drunk, or preoccupied with fucking the latest “date.” Being hung over most days, I’d barely made it through my last year of high school. But I graduated yesterday, and today I turned eighteen. And Mommy Dearest was out of my life. When I got home from court (I had gone to make sure mom didn’t ...

... escape) I called Christine, my high school girlfriend. We had been “doing it” for almost three years now. She was more than ready to help me celebrate. The five-foot-six redhead knocked on the door. When I answered she just said, “Nice.” I supposed my being naked with a hard-on might have had something to do with that. She came in and I nearly dragged her to the bedroom. I clawed at her clothes until those that weren’t in shreds on the floor were in tatters on her body. Christine shirked out of those and climbed on top of me. I was fumbling at my night stand for a condom, and she brought my hands back to the bed. “You won’t need a condom just yet.” I wondered what Christine had in mind. She wasn’t trying to get pregnant, was she? “There are a few things I want to experiment with, starting now.” Christine wrapped her right hand around my dick and began slowly rubbing her hand up and down. Her left hand was lightly tracing circles on my chest, stopping to tease and twist my nipples every few seconds. “Such as what?” I asked. I wasn’t afraid of her experimenting – sounded like fun – but I’d like to participate in the anticipation. “Such as what I’m doing now. I want to watch you cum. Put your hands behind your head.” She was nothing if not direct. I complied. She was also keeping me on edge. I would come close to the cliff, then she would slow down and let me pull back. I needed to cum, and wasn’t sure just how long I would be able to hold out. Her right hand left my dick to play with ...