Sandy Morrison and the Pack of Pussies

Chapter 3

Kyle tried hard not to let his mind drop to the gutter, the natural position it had been in since he’d gone into puberty and discovered his rampant animal appetites. But Sandy looked so good in her skimpy emerald dress, and it wasn’t so much clothing to undress in his imagination. She had small breasts, barely a handful each, and she wasn’t wearing a bra as far as he could tell. A side trip to the bathroom could confirm this, but he wouldn’t ask, nor even imagine asking.

To avoid thinking of cupping her breasts in his palms, Kyle tried to keep eye contact. This turned out to be a mistake too, because he found her green eyes mesmerizing.

There was something not quite right about them, and it had taken Kyle several songs before he realized her pupils were dilated just a bit too wide. But then, in the dark den, it was to be expected.

The den was filled with hot bodies moving to the constant beats pumped out by the DJ. Sandy’s dress was soaked with sweat, but by then, his clothes were wet with his sweat too.

The air was thick with pot smoke, and whether Kyle chose to partake or not, he was getting a contact high just like everyone else. Kyle realized that this was probably Sandy’s first exposure to drugs, and he berated himself over and over not to take advantage of her inexperience.

Sandy started dancing closer with each song until she was moving against Kyle, fitting her back to his stomach. She leaned her head back to watch him with a coy smile, and without thinking, he slid his hand over her stomach. They moved in perfect time to the beat and, being good or not, Kyle was unable to keep his imagination blank. Not with his dance partner’s body offering him a blatant preview of her capabilities.

Somewhere during the next song, Sandy’s hand moved to his hip and brought his pelvis in line with her tailbone. This made it much harder to keep his thoughts straight, and to keep anything from getting hard.

When Sandy backed away at the end of the next song, he felt immense relief. He’d kept his hands from wandering where they shouldn’t, though he’d thought about allowing them to drift north or south many times.

His fingers tingled with the memory of stroking her navel through the damp material, and his knuckles were tense with nervous energy though he maintained an air of casual calm.

Sandy said, “I need to look for the bathroom. Should we meet back in the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Okay, sure,” Kyle said. As soon as Sandy turned away and slipped through the other dancing teens, he blew out a long breath and thought, Or maybe I should bow out before I do something stupid. Maggie would kill me if—

A hand closed over his arm, and he spun, relaxing when he saw Maggie. “I was just thinking about you.”

“We have to go,” Maggie said. “Leon is out front puking like a geyser, but as soon as he’s empty, I’m taking him home. Where’s Sandy?”

“She just went to the bathroom.”

Maggie pulled Kyle behind her, making her way out of the den, and then out of the house. On the wide wooden front porch, the first thing he heard was Leon moaning.

Maggie called, “Baby, are you okay?”

A hand rose over the side of the porch, and Leon offered a thumb up. “Peachy,” he groaned.

“We’re going in a minute, I just have to find Sandy.” Maggie sighed. “I hate cutting this short. I know she’s having a good time, and this party is kind of a one-shot deal.”

“I could drive her home,” Kyle said.

“I’m sure,” Maggie said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.