textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/totempol.txt

Totem Pole

I guess when I was in high school I was pretty high on the
social totem pole.  Not at the very top, but up there.  I
was one of the few underclassmen to get invited to senior
parties, anyway.  The senior guys seemed to regard me as
"cool" or something.

It could have been that they were even a little afraid of
me.  I remember really clearly a moment I was talking with
some of them in the hall, and realized that *they* were
trying to impress *me*.  What was this?  They were so huge
and masterful, rulers of the world.  They went on *dates*.
They drove *cars*.  But now they needed me more than I
needed them!

I kept nodding and acting wowed by whatever they were
saying, but the world was turning inside out and I was the
only one who could see it. Their talk became a babble, and
suddenly I saw them pitifully, like sick animals with pink
and bleating guts exposed.  I became completely aware of
other things going on far up and down the long hall: the
laughter of my friends, the squeals of some little kids I
hated, the worried gossip of some ones I watched out for...

A babbler was staring at me, perturbed.  He had seen
something had changed.  It was like we both knew right then
that I had more spirit than him, that I had, in fact,
already eclipsed him somehow.  I felt heady and powerful for
a second.  Then I walked away and was overtaken by the
weight of something huge and brooding.

Anyway, I don't think I respected them after that.  I
definitely didn't trust them.  I'd rather hang with the guys
in my class any day.  They were solid; they were pure.

The senior girls were a different story.  I was in an arty
clique, and I think they saw me as "intense" or
"interesting".  They always tried to get me drunk and engage
me in these sophisticated discussions, and I was *into* it.
They drank mysterious-sounding stuff like "brandy" and
talked about books I thought only I had read.

Even though they were just one or two years older, they were
so unlike the girls my age.  Their voices weren't thin and
whiny.  They didn't giggle.  They weren't awkward in their
bodies.   And they seemed to just *know* things.  I had a
feeling that when they walked down the hall, they knew that
all the boys were watching their tits and asses, and they
didn't really care...

It sounds dumb now, but I was flattered just to be in their
presence.  I never would have come on to them -- it just
wasn't my place to do so.  Though it's not like the idea
wasn't on my mind.  I guess there were a lot of times I
would leave from hanging out with them, feeling all cool and
confident, and sneak into my girlfriend's window and fool
around with her.  It was so innocent then; sex was gentle
vista we were exploring.  No, better yet, it was like this
*amazing* new sport I was just gonna keep getting better and
better at.  It didn't occur to me that it could have meant
anything she was one year younger than me.  It was really a
pretty rigid social structure and I didn't even realize it.

The only hint I remember getting that they even thought that
way about me was from this quiet, intense senior named
Lynnette.  Once she called me up and asked me to go to see
_Rocky Horror_ with her.  I was excited -- it was kind of an
honor then, to go see this *cool* movie at *midnight* with
*seniors*.  Then I felt weird when I realized we weren't
going with anybody else.

What was up with her anyhow?  A lot of the time she seemed
like a total square.  She would actually leave parties
*early* so she could read or go to sleep.  She looked like a
librarian, with her funny short hair and body hidden beneath
dumpy old clothes.  But she hung out with some of the
coolest girls in school. And the one time we had really
talked she had said some of the darkest, strangest things I
had ever heard.

When she laughed, something in her eyes would dance.  You
got the feeling she was laughing 'cause she had seen it all
before, like she was some potent old witch finding life
again in a young girl's body -- yet who could never quite
forget her bitter past.

When she picked me up I could tell that she had made an
effort to look nice.  For her, she had dressed up pretty
funky.  She still looked like a librarian, really, but she
had tried.  The dress she wore showed something of her chest
and legs for once.

I noticed how broad and graceful her shoulders were.  The
way her neck curved into her shoulders was elegant, like
those tall strong African women in National Geographic.  I
imagined her breasts pointing up the way theirs did.  Her
whole body was like that: broad, but thin and graceful.

She was dressed up like this was a date.

That was impossible, 'cause she was a senior.  Wasn't it?
But I wanted her now, I wanted to expose those breasts and
thighs.  What would I do after that?  I had no idea.  She
was so different from my girlfriend.

But when we started talking, she seemed really down about
something, so I figured maybe she just wanted someone to
talk to.  After the movie we stayed up at the diner talking
about whatever.  When she dropped me off, she seemed
happier.

                           *  *  *

Then they all went away to college and I became one of the
seniors.  The older kids faded into legend.  In a way they
became even bigger, these ghostly presences that everybody
would invoke and try to associate themselves with.  When
they came home on breaks it was hard to see them because
they had so many people to catch up with.  So I knew
something was up when one Christmas break, Lynnette called
me up and asked me to go "out for a drink."

I tried to be all casual, like sure, that'd be cool.  But I
was excited.  I'd been drinking for years, but the way
teenagers do, in dark parking lots and sweaty keg parties.
I had never been asked "out for a drink" before.  What
happened when you went "out for a drink" with somebody?  I
honestly had no idea.

And wasn't that something people did to pick each other up?

When that thought struck me my throat dried up.  What did
she want?  I had to concentrate to act surly for my parents.

In the bar our fake id's passed and she ordered the kind of
drinks my parents drank -- little brown ones that tasted
like poison.  For once in my life I enjoyed it.  It was
*smooth* poison.  She was talking a lot about college and
how wild life in her dorm was, with all these drugs and
blatant sex.  I was listening and trying to act cool, like
yeah, that's the kind of stuff I do every day.  But I was
amazed.

I had thought *I* was pretty wild. Now this square was doing
all these drugs and sleeping with all these people.  And why
was she telling me all this?  Did she know she was making me
horny?  On the way in to the bar, I had admired the shape of
her ass in her tight jeans.  Now I kept looking at her chest
and she didn't seem to care.  In fact, she'd pause and lean
in towards me, looking me right in the eyes, before she told
me the wildest parts.  It was almost like she was inviting
me to have a better look.

I could almost see her nipples.  She was wearing a vest with
no shirt underneath.  Her necklace of hippie beads dangled
down into her cleavage, and the beads flashed and jumped in
the candlelight with her slightest motions, as if they were
wild red and black tongues that she had charmed into forever
licking and teasing.  I thought, whoa, she has changed.

I decided this was all *too* much.

Older girls never came on to me.  So Lynnette was just
waving these wild stories in front of my face for some
bitchy reason I couldn't comprehend, and wasn't really
interested in me.  What, was it my job to be impressed with
her, like those stupid older guys wanted me to?

At that point I think she noticed something had changed.
When we drove home I asked her to drop me off at my friend's
house.  I wanted to be with someone that wasn't gonna treat
me like an inferior.

I was about to get out of the car and we were saying call me
sometime, yeah, yeah, when she grabbed my hand.

"No, I *do* wanna see you again," she said.

Her thumb was sitting in the middle of my palm.  I looked at
it and realized my body had gone absolutely still.

The thumb was moving -- pressing gently and making little
circles.  I had never been so hypnotized by any touch
anywhere.  My eyes were fixed, but swinging in and out of my
vision were those fiery red and black beads...

I realized vaguely that for the first time in my life, I was
being seduced.  My cock was straining against my jeans.

"What are you doing tonight?" she said directly.

"Um, nothing."  I tried to be proud.

"My parents are gone skiing.  Why don't you come over?"

Then she leaned over and stuck her tongue in my mouth.  It
was strong and warm.  My eyelids closed involuntarily.  I
got lost in the movement of her tongue inside of my mouth,
the way it tasted like water... she knew what she was doing.

After a dazed, amazed while I managed to assent.

"All right," I said.

I felt her neatly and precisely stop.  What's up now?  I
wondered.  My eyes opened.

There she was, hands back on the steering wheel, looking at
me like, well, aren't you getting out of the car?

"Okay, see you then," she said curtly.

She *was* being a tease!  What a bitch!  I got out of the
car.

So she did wanna fuck around with me.  I resolved she was
gonna get fucked good tonight.  She thought I was some
little innocent virgin boy and she was gonna show me the
ropes.  Some women were into that, right?  She didn't know I
had been sneaking into my girlfriend's bed every midnight
for a year; she didn't know how much I had learned about
where to bite, where to put my fingers, how to wiggle my
tongue.  I could make my girlfriend wet with a single touch.
I could lick her pussy until she was shaking and totally
beyond control.  Lynnette wasn't gonna treat me like her
little virgin.

                           *  *  *

When I got there she was cool, like nothing was going on.
We had some random conversation over some drink.  My
bullshit sentences kept trailing off in anticipation of what
I was there for, and she'd laugh in that way that said she
knew exactly what she wanted, and expected me to follow her
plan to get it.

I was getting tired of the whole game when she stuck that
amazing tongue in my mouth again.  We got down on the living
room carpet in the midst of all this bourgeois furniture and
made out, stroking each other through our clothes.  I loved
it.  My hands checked out every part I was gonna be master
of in a few minutes -- her sweet curved ass held in tight by
her jeans,  the breasts she had flaunted in the bar, the
neck I had admired a whole year ago...

My lips were sliding down her neck when she spoke up.

"Whoa, slow down!  We've got all night..."  She laughed at
me.  It was exactly the way you'd say that to a little boy.

Thing was, I *was* being slow.

"You can kiss me there now."  She pointed to a spot higher
on her neck.

She expected me to follow her orders!  I was so angry I
rolled my eyes.

But I did it.

I kissed her there.  I knew how to do it good.  I bit very
lightly and watched the goose bumps ripple all over, just
like I knew they would.  She wasn't *that* different from my
girlfriend.  I heard her moan, and moved down towards her
chest.

"Did I say you could go there?  Do that again."

What a bitch!  I don't know why I did it again.  She liked
it.

"You can kiss me there now," she said, pointing to a spot
about a centimeter lower.  I told myself this was boring.  I
told myself it was stupid.  But I did it.  As she shivered
with pleasure, I watched her beads rolling down into the
space between her breasts and was jealous of them.

I knew I was gonna have to do what she told me, so I just
did.  Every time it seemed like she was losing control and I
tried to take over she'd direct me again.  My blood was
boiling but my cock was harder than it ever was for my
girlfriend.  I hate to admit it, but I was grateful when she
finally exposed her breasts and let me get lost in them.
What the fuck was wrong with me?

Finally our clothes were off, her legs were splayed wide
open, and her cunt was right under my face, its lips all fat
and slick.  I was regaining my composure.  She was helpless,
and I knew what I was doing now.

I teased her clit with the tip of my tongue and started a
slow rhythm.  I wasn't going to break it.  When her mound
started to push up and down to try to get more, I wouldn't
let her have it.  I took her ass in my hands so I could
better control what was going on.  When I started fucking
her with my tongue, she moaned so slutty, I just had to
start rubbing my cock against the floor.  Her pussy juice
started dripping onto the fancy oriental rug and that turned
me on more.  Finally I went back to her clit and licked
until her body buckled and wouldn't stop shaking.

I scrambled up to her face knowing I had pleased her.

"I bet you wanna fuck me now," she said, still weak and
sensitive from the orgasm.  I smiled and kissed her
tenderly; She sounded so soft compared to before.  So I was
surprised when, then, she managed to give me a look that was
the exact equivalent of her laugh.

"I bet you wanna fuck me now, don't you..."  I could almost
hear her finish the sentence "...little boy," and it made me
furious.

She rolled over on her side so her ass was right there in
front of my chest.  There were her gorgeous hips offered up,
pussy lips sticking out and so close and wet I could still
smell them.  Oh, yes, I did want to fuck her.  I started
moving up to do it.

"Well you can't," she said solidly.  "Not yet."

I almost exploded.  This woman was too much of a tease to be
worth it.  I started thinking of a way to get out of it.
Then she laughed again.

"But you were good.  You deserve *something*," she said,
eyes dancing.

She leapt up laughing and wrapped her lips around my cock.
I couldn't believe it as I watched the entire thing
disappear down her throat.  My girlfriend could never do
that.  Lynnette was so sure of what she was doing.  I felt
her beads fall down cool and smooth around the base of my
cock as she worked on me.  I came quicker than I ever had
from my girlfriend's cute little mouth.

                           *  *  *

We left the bourgeois living room smelling of sex.  I loved
that -- desecrating that room.  Sex was truth and this room
was full of suburban lies.  Parents could never imagine what
went on when they were gone.

In the shower she teased me, rubbing her ass against my
cock, but I played along with it this time.  I knew I was
gonna get some soon.  When she walked out of the bathroom
and left me there drying myself off with her parent's
towels, I thought about how the evening was finally going
the way I wanted it.

When I walked into the bedroom there was another guy
standing there naked, cock stiff, leaning against the wall.

Lynnette sat on the bed looking at me matter-of-factly.

"Uh, Lynnette, I don't know what's going on, but--"  I
started.

"You want to fuck me, don't you?"  Her eyes were laughing at
me.

"If you want to fuck me you're going to have to take care of
your friend," she continued.

I realized he was somebody I knew from a long time ago.  A
few years ago we had been on the same soccer team.  He had
been one of the slow, clumsy ones, relegated to stare from
the sidelines until one of the starters needed a rest.  But
then he started going to a different school.

He looked different now, thin and taut.  Embarrassed and
scared as hell, but in really good shape.  He wasn't soft,
getting a beer belly already like some of the seniors were.
His name was Kevin.

Oh, my God.  How did she know?  How did she know this was
going to turn me on?  I had never told anyone I had even
thought about it.

I looked at her, amazed.  When she smiled I could hear her
crazy, wise laugh again, like she was 10,000 years old and
knew everything.

She was going back to college...  He was from another
school... I knew somehow that I could trust them anyway...

"If you ever-  tell- anyone..."  I sputtered.

She shook her head solemnly then smiled again.  She was
still wearing those sexy fucking beads.

When I went to touch him he was solid and smooth, just like
I imagined another boy's body would be.  Our cocks rubbed
together as I ran my hands over his chest.  It was like
coming home.  I knew exactly how to kiss his body.  When I
took his cock in my mouth, I had never felt anything so warm
or alive.

Lynnette sat on the edge of the bed, eyes and mouth wide
open like she was 10 years old and watching the best circus
act ever.  She was still except for the motion of her hand
between her legs.  I could hear the squishing of her pussy
as she rubbed and fucked herself.

She started encouraging us, telling us we were sexy and she
didn't care what we did; she just wanted to see us come.
Kevin was starting to tremble.  He was so nervous, and he
wanted to come so bad.  I struggled not to gag or bite him
as he impulsively pushed deeper into my throat.  I knew he
couldn't help it.

Then everything was happening at once.  Kevin's cock was
throbbing, Lynnette was crying out something and shaking on
the bed, and hot sperm was squirting into my mouth.  I had
to struggle to drink it all.  As it slid down my throat I
wanted more.

Then I was kneeling in front of some guy's body in a house I
had hardly ever been in before, unable to look at anyone or
believe what I had done.  The whole world was turning upside
down again.

Lynnette led me over to the bed and kept saying, "oh, you
are so good," and shaking her head like she couldn't believe
her fortune.  She kissed me and told me and Kevin we
deserved something.

I forgot my existential crisis as she rolled around on the
bed stretching and showing us her body, telling us we were
so good we deserved something special.

Finally she said, "okay, you can fuck me now."

And she let us both fuck her.  She lay down on her side and
let me fuck her from behind while she took the head of
Kevin's cock in her mouth.  When I pumped her good she would
shake and Kevin's cock would slip out of her mouth.  It
would rub wet and shiny over her face for a few seconds,
then she'd take it back in.  We were fucking her back and
front, mouth and cunt.  This earth mother with her hips wide
was accepting us all.

When I started pumping her really hard she couldn't hold it
in her mouth any more and just lay back and moaned.  She told
Kevin to rub it on her face.

Then she started talking wildly about how when we came, she
wanted us to rub our come into her.  I couldn't believe it.
She started pleading and begging us: come on me, rub it into
me, I need it.  An hour ago she had practically been making
me beg her!  I had never been so turned on by anything.
When I saw her gasp and lick as Kevin started coming on her
face, I couldn't stand it any more.  I pulled out and came
all over her ass and the outside of her pussy.

She lay there shaking and running her hands all over her
body, mixing me and Kevin's sperm together and rubbing it
into her nipples and pussy.  She even touched her beads with
it, and they got all shiny and seemed to glint in the light.
She was enraptured by it, like it was some kind of magic
potion that was going to bless her and protect her from
evil.

I had never felt so accepted.

She told us we should lick it all over her body, that if we
did she'd let us fuck her all night.  We did it and we
fucked her all night.

It got to be like 5 am and me and Kevin had to get home
before our parents woke up.  We agreed we'd never tell
anyone about this.  I guess I'm breaking my promise now.

I was totally amazed for a few days.  I think my mom could
tell something had changed in me.  She looked at me and her
eyes creased in a funny way.

I called Lynnette and she was nice, but cool to me, busy
with stuff.  She went back to college a few days later and I
never heard of her again.

                           *  *  *

It wasn't 'til years later that I realized that there was
this one underclass girl who I used to show favors to.  She
was "intense" and "interesting."  I didn't mind that she'd
follow me around, that she'd try to stay with me up all
night, later than anybody else, or come see me after school
when my parents were at work.  I knew she was trying to get
me alone, have me to herself.  I didn't mind; in fact I kind
of liked it.  She looked up to me.  And she never expected
anything.

Sometimes I wish I would have done to her what Lynnette did
to me.  I realize now I could have done it.  I could have
come back from college for the summer, after she had waited
all year to see me, and turned her from a bratty little
sister into my dark little lover.  If I had teased her and
told her what to do, she would have been offended.  But her
little pussy would have quivered.

Maybe I did do it to her.  It's almost like I remember it
that way now.  I pulled her body towards me...  I knew even
then that she was waiting for that.  She wanted to feel what
it was like to climb into my arms and press our bodies
together, so I let her.

I let her get lost in the smell of my chest, and when she
murmured I felt that small vibration in my entire body.

I told her she could unbutton my shirt, and taught her how
to kiss my nipples.  She did it so nervously!  I realized
she had always tried *so much* to please me, and I had
hardly noticed.  Now it made me so hard, to feel her anxious
mouth while I breathed in the smell of her hair; to watch
her ass, the one she always hid beneath baggy boy's clothes,
now curved and female as she bent and the fabric stretched
tight.

When she started to kiss lower, I told her she couldn't --
unless she took off her shirt.  She got flustered and
confused, and I told her very plainly she couldn't kiss me
any more unless her shirt was off.  She stared at me, eyes
blazing, and then did it.  I felt her breasts sliding on my
stomach, nipples hardening, as she climbed back onto me.

I knew it wasn't the first time she had done this.  She had
had a little boyfriend all year.  But no one had ever made
her wait like this.

I knew she would put up with it.  The letters she sent me at
college were so secret and intense, I had a feeling she had
written them feverishly, in the middle of the night, by
flashlight under the covers.  And she hadn't fallen asleep
until she had rubbed herself to exhaustion with her little
fingers and the tube of smooth, cool plastic.

When she started to unbutton my jeans, I told her she
couldn't -- first she'd have to rub her face against the
bulge and beg me.  She was so shocked and angry her mouth
dropped open.  Why was I being such a jerk?  Then she
started rubbing her face against me in desperation.  She
didn't beg loud enough, and I told her I couldn't hear her.
I made her so angry and horny the crotch of her pants was
all stained by the time she took them off.

When her lips finally got to my cock, I was ever so patient.
I watched her and stroked her wild hair.  I didn't try to
push it in farther than she wanted it.  I watched her ass
move as her head bobbed up and down, and thought about how,
soon, my cock would be moving in her little pussy, and I'd
be hearing her cry out.

I told her if she sucked me good I'd give her something.

That made make her little mouth start moving up and down
faster!  I told her more -- if she sucked me good, I'd touch
her little pussy.  If she sucked me good, I'd slide my cock
between the cheeks of her ass.  By the time I said I'd take
her up to my room, she was fucking her own mouth with my
cock, frantic to make me come.  She was so excited by the
idea of going up to my room...

When my sperm was in her mouth, I gathered her up to me and
told her she was good.  It made her so happy to hear that.
I told her she'd been so good I was gonna take care of her,
just for today.

I put her on her side and got behind her.  I whispered
things in her ears and reached around to caress her breasts
and her stomach.  I tweaked her nipples slowly and turned
her head up to me so I could put my tongue in her mouth.
Finally I dipped my fingers into her pussy and pushed and
stroked so gently; I would never hurt her.  When she came,
her shaking made my cock grow hard against her ass.

Then I took her to my room and made love to her.  I didn't
mind when she hung on to me for hours and days afterwards.

Could I have taken her so far she would have licked a little
friend's pussy?  Maybe if I played it right.  I could have
teased her about her secret desires, told her she could do
anything with me and I wouldn't tell.  I could have withheld
my cock and made her desperate until she did more and more
outrageous things.

But I wouldn't have thought of it then, a question like, how
do you play things to get people to do stuff?  Even stuff
they really want to do?  It would have seemed insane.  Back
then I would have thought, don't people always just do
exactly what they want?

I used to think that love was a fire that could never burn
out.  I had no idea the fire could turn bit by bit into a
fire-fight, a feud that would flash in the night and then
lay down secret, soft and glowing.  Wounds would heal and
suspicion would fade, and then the night would flare up
again, repeating until everything that mattered was dead and
everything else was black and weightless, like burned wood.

Then I thought love was endless patience and imagination.
Like someone who's stranded themselves on a beautiful,
magical island in the middle of a lake.  There's never any
reason to leave.  Soon the island's vistas run out, but with
devotion they find new wonder inside every grain of sand,
and ignore the beckoning of the mysterious lands all around
them.  Then one day they jump in the water and swim away.

Now I don't know what love is.