Abby

“That chick was totally into me,” Alexander boasts.

“What? The sales girl? You think?”

“Oh, totally,” he grins, knowing he’s full of shit.

I shake my head, trying to imagine Alexander’s dorky fat ass with a cute girl like that. The image refuses to coalesce, it’s too implausible. “You don’t think she was just being nice or whatever?”

“Dude, Richard, that’s what flirting is! Being nice.” His oblivious confidence is envious as he flips on the blinker, looks over his shoulder. He pulls us off the expressway, the motor stuttering. His car’s a piece of shit, but I’m not complaining, at least he has one.

I do agree with him on one point. “She was hot, though, wasn’t she?”

“Hey,” he says with his crazy energy, “You should go back. Ask her out.”

“Me?” I tense, “Why me? You said she was into you.”

“Yeah, but. I didn’t say I was into her, did I? Big guy, like me? I’d crush her. And you’re the one said she was hot.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “Oh, fuck off. As if you’d turn down a chance with a girl like that. Your dumb ass should feel lucky she even talked to you.”

“Hey! Speaking of,” Alexander gets intense, animated, his spirit impervious to my disparagement, “Tonight. Leanne’s gonna be there, right? Weddings are the perfect opportunity. You gotta dance with her.”

I look out the window. We roll past houses and telephone polls. “I heard she’s bringing a date.”

“Dude, she’s bringing that douchebag cousin of hers. He probably begged to be her plus one. The type of asshole that just goes to weddings to try to bag a bridesmaid.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I talk myself down, “You think I can just walk up to Leanne and ask her to dance with me? You know my tactic whenever a cute girl talks to me? Roll onto my back, put my feet in the air, play dead?”

Alexander laughs. “You’re not that bad. Anyway, there’ll be booze. Just get a few drinks in you. You’ll be fine.” Like we know anything about booze. On his driveway, he puts the car in park, pulls up on the e-brake handle. It makes a ratchet sound as it clicks into place.

I try to be positive, I really do, but I don’t know how. “I don’t even like drinking. It just makes me… I dunno…” I follow Alexander to his house.

“What are you two dweebs conspiring about?” Maybe once, years ago, she meant the word as an insult. But Abby calling her little brother and I ‘dweebs’ now, it sounds almost affectionate.

Alexander shuts the front door behind him and proudly holds out the hanger. “We got our suits!” he announces, “Had ‘em tailored and everything. Just picked them up.”

Abby’s on the living room couch, legs curled up beneath her, a novel in her hands. At eight years older, smart and successful and renting her spare bedroom to her little brother, she sometimes acts more like Alexander’s parent than sibling. Which means that I, as Alexander’s best friend since forever, also look up to her for… well, everything, I guess. I stand beside Alexander, hold up my outfit. “What do you think?” I say, “I got two shirts, white and blue. And two ties, also. Help me put them together?”

She sets her book down beside her and leans in. She’s in a simple t-shirt, got her hair twisted up into a loose bun, and has her eyeglasses on. Abby’s not the type to leave the house looking anything less than perfect, and seeing her so casual is something she’d never let anyone besides family do. I feel honored to be so included. “Let me see the jacket?” she says, inspecting the fabric. “What’re the suits for, again?”

Alexander says, “Our friends’re getting married tonight, remember? Jorge and Sara? The invite’s been on the fridge for months.”

“Oh, that,” Abby shakes her head, looks back at the clothes I’m holding up. She says to me, “Richard, definitely the white shirt. And that blue-gray tie. I can’t believe your guys’ friends are getting married already. So young! And you two haven’t ever even had girlfriends.”

“Hey!” Alexander bristles, but not at the same part that makes me cringe, “Sara and Jorge’ve been dating for years. Since, like, middle school. They’re perfect for each other.”

Abby sits back into her spot, picks up her book. “You guys got dates?” She chuckles, “Or are you Richard’s date?”

Alexander sighs, shakes his head. “C’mon, Richard.” He leads me into the back of the house.

It’s still early, but we’re both eager to get our new suits on. Alexander goes into his bedroom and I head to the hall bathroom.

I’m pulling up my pants when I hear light footsteps of someone hovering out in the hall. Abby’s voice rings out, raised enough to be heard through the door, “You dweebs planning to show up tonight in that shitbox car of yours, Alex?”

Alexander’s voice filters back, faint but audible, “It’s not that bad.”

“I’d be so embarrassed to arrive in that,” Abby says, “Look, I’m not going anywhere tonight. Why don’t you take my Porsche?”

“What?” Alexander erupts, “You fucking serious?” From the thumping on the walls, he must be literally bouncing with excitement.

“Yeah,” I hear her sigh, “Don’t make me regret it.” I don’t know much about cars, but Abby’s cherry red 90’s Porsche is gorgeous. It’s her baby and she keeps it in immaculate condition, turning eyes wherever she goes. Letting Alexander and me borrow it… well, that’s unheard of.

“Oh my gosh, Abby. I can’t believe it. You’re the bestest sister ever!”

“Richard’s got to drive, though,” she adds, “You shift gears like a bag of dicks.”

Alexander’s so excited he doesn’t care. “Hooo, tonight’s going to be awesome!”

Fuddling with my tie, I pop open the bathroom door, spot Abby pacing in the hallway, biting her lip. She sees me and stops, searches my face. “You’re still not drinking, right?”

“Nope,” I shake my head to reassure her, “That’s really cool of you, you know.”

“Shut up,” she says, “You’ll make me blush. And what the fuck are you doing to that neck tie? Who taught you how to tie ties?” She frowns, looks at me like I’m a fool.

I probably am. “I dunno,” I shrug, “I’m trying to follow the video, but… it’s not really working, I guess…”

“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes and walks up, pushes me back into the bathroom. Together facing the mirror, she stands behind me, our eyes meeting in the reflection. She has to stand on her tip-toes to see over my shoulder, and she wraps her arms around me, balancing herself as she reaches for my tie. I’m like a lost dog, patient and submissive as she undoes the mess of a knot I’d started. “Here,” she says, “I’ll teach you.”

“Uh,” I chuckle nervously, “Thanks. Sorry I’m so lame.”

“You’re not lame,” she says, flattening the two sides down my chest, adjusting their length. With brow furrowed, she concentrates on her task. “You’re just new at this, is all. We all start somewhere.” The hot breath of her words tickles my neck.

She holds a hand at my collar, pulling the tie around, and it’s a strangely intimate experience — at least for me — having a woman this close to me, fussing over my outfit. Even if it’s just Abby, as she works I grow acutely aware of her tits pressing into my back, of her hips rubbing against my ass. It’s never mattered that she’s cute — that she’s beautiful, actually, with perfectly tan skin and dark eyes and a lithe, slender figure — not with her being Alexander’s sister, not with her being so much older, not with her being so sure of her place, so much out of my league.

None of those objections matter to my dick. My dick’s only concern at the moment is the hot woman rubbing up against me, wrapping her arms around me. And so it does what dicks do in this situation, and it surges stiff.

I am intensely embarrassed, hoping she doesn’t notice the tent growing in my slacks, wondering what I can do to keep her distracted.

My mouth goes dry, my tongue sticks to my gums. “So, um, how’d you learn to do this? Ties, I mean.” My words come out all thick and nervous and squeaky.

Abby had been concentrating on the knot, but she knows me, knows my tones. And my tone gives her pause. “Um, I don’t know.” Her gaze is full of suspicion.

She shakes her head and returns to her task, her hands pulling the tie through the final loop. She cinches it the knot up around my neck, pulling it tight, flattening the fabric down my chest.

The touch makes my breath catch, makes my cheeks redden. I can’t help it.

“There,” she announces, “Suit looks good on you, Richard. You’re looking sharp, actually. Very handsome. You’re… oh!”

Wide eyes flit back up to meet mine in the mirror. I grimace, look away. “Sorry.”

Surprise gives way to a grin, and she giggles. Her long coppery hair shimmers as it bounces in the scrunchy. “You really enjoyed having me dote over you, didn’t you?”

“Sorry,” I mutter again, searching for anything else to say, to explain, and finding no adequate words.

“Richard,” Abby says, and at this point, I completely do not expect what she does next. She actually leans more into to me, rests her chin on my shoulder, presses her body harder into my backside, smiles at me with a gentle warmth. “You’ve got to loosen up. Literally. I can feel how tense you are.”

“Sorry,” I say yet again, supremely embarrassed.

“Richard.” And this time’s its an admonishment, the tone she takes when she has to explain common sense to me. “First off, stop apologizing. It’s just a boner. Second, isn’t that girl you like, Leanne, going to be there tonight? How’s it going to look to her if you get so embarrassed when she grinds her cute little butt up against you?” She giggles. “It’s just a penis, it points out what it likes.”

“I don’t know,” I groan. Why does she have to bring up Leanne right now? Isn’t there literally anything else she can talk about? “I don’t know if I even like Leanne that way.”

This admission merits an eyebrow raise. “Sure you do.”

“I do?”

“I’ve been hearing you talk about her for years.” Abby drags her fingers in lazy circles around my belly. If she’s trying to calm me, to make my erection subside, she’s doing the exact wrong thing.

Through cheeks blushing so hard, they’re pinched tight, I stammer, “I’m– I think her and I are just friends. And anyway, I’m too shy to actually talk to girls I’m into. You know that.”

Abby giggles, sliding her hands down to my hips. “This doesn’t seem very shy to me.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Jesus, Richard. You’re getting even harder.”

I whimper.

“What’re you going to do with this thing?” Her fingers slide closer. “You can’t take a cold shower, not after I just made your tie all nice and perfect.”

I close my eyes, dying inside, wishing I was anywhere but here.

“And I’m not letting you drive my car this way, you might shift the wrong stick.” She giggles, voice quiet and mocking.

I want to just disappear, to cease existing. Abby will never let me live down this shame.

She teases me more, dragging her fingers slowly, deliberately up my thigh, brushing through the fabric of my pants against my balls. And I thought we’d all matured past the age of making fun of each other.

Her words are hushed, a taunting whisper, “Unless you want me to take matters into my own hands.”

I need no more help and I’m about to tell her so when, like a slap in the face, her meaning lands. I gasp, opening my eyes to meet her gaze. I expect to see mockery there, a joke made at my expense. But she’s sober, serious, sexy…

My jaw drops, my eyes widen. “I–” but I choke on my own words.

“Hush, Richard,” she soothes, her hand closing over my shaft, pinching my pants tight around my girth. “You know I’m always here for you, anything you need. Anything at all, Richard.”

I can’t help it, her touch is too perfect, and I groan in pleasure.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispers, like she can barely believe it herself.

But I know exactly what I want, even if I can’t admit it out loud. So instead I reach down, unzip my fly, and free my cock from my shorts.

“Oh!” she gasps. My erection stands fat and rude above the bathroom counter. She grabs it, pulls it to the side before letting it go, watching it spring back stiffly with surprised eyes. “Oh, wow. That’s… you’re a well-endowed young man, Richard.”

I take her hand, push it onto my cock. She grins as she takes my cue, closing her fist around my shaft, dragging is up to the tip, then back down to the base. Her touch is silky soft, and through the mirror I stare at her fingers touching me so magically. I gasp in pleasure, and dare look into her face, fearing what I’ll see there. Disgust? Pity? Derision? But it’s none of those things. She actually looks… concerned?

She yanks my cock, gentle and slow, with an impressive strength in her grip. “Are you– are you liking it?” she says, her lips glistening and soft. She really thinks there’s a chance that I’m not!

“Fuck yes,” I pant, eager to reassure her, to let her know just how good her hand feels on my dick.

“I’m not ruining our friendship, am I?” She pumps me more, building her pace, driving new heights of ecstasy into my inexperienced dick. “This is fucked up, don’t you think? I knew you when you were just a kid. Hell, you’re still practically a kid. And you’ve never been with a woman before. Fuck… but this cock…”

“Don’t stop!” I beg her. “I– I– I–” but I can’t get the words out.

A noise comes from Alexander’s room, some knocking sound, and I tense with panic. What am I doing? But Abby deftly kicks the bathroom door closed, not letting it interrupt. “You are seriously fucking hard, Richard,” she says, her fist tugging vigorously on my dick. “I had no idea… Do you have a crush on me, Richard?”

Do I? I mean… “Yes,” I admit.

“Fuck,” she strokes me quicker and quicker, “Really? For how long?”

I meet her gaze. “Since always.”

She considers this while my breaths come quicker and quicker. “But I’m too old for you–”

“You’re really hot!” I gasp, “I mean. You’re smart and, like, uh, those other things–”

“Shut up,” she laughs, “I’ll take ‘hot.’ You don’t have to try to be a gentleman. Not now, when I’m jerking you off.”

Somehow, hearing her say those words makes it more real. As if until now I could’ve denied what was happening, pretended it was just a mistake. Now that she’s admitted it out loud, it has become more final, more erotic.

She must’ve noticed my reaction. “Fuck, you just got even harder. You must be losing your mind. Let’s see how you like the real thing.”

I squeak, “This isn’t the real thing?”

She leaves me derelict, sidling around me. I grit my teeth to stop my groan, and watch as she selects a lotion from the bathroom counter, grabbing a bright green bottle and squeezing some on her palm. She comes up beside me, rubbing the lotion into my dick, making it glisten, before wrapping both her fists around me. One strokes the base of my cock while the other focuses on my glans. My dick enters a dimension of pure pleasure. It makes my jaw drop, my head spin.

“I am in shock how big your dick is,” she says, “And I’m the first girl you’ve showed it to?”

I manage to nod, “Uh-huh.”

“Well, lucky me,” she grins, sliding her hands up and down my red and shining shaft. She watches me, watches my face, watches the pleasure burst out in my expressions, watches me struggle to keep control.

But her touch is expert, driving paradise into me with deft precision, and I have no chance.

“You’re going to cum for me, Richard,” she says, “You’re going to cum so fucking hard. You’re going to shoot your fat fucking load for me.”

I’m overwhelmed, head swimming, lost in bliss. I would never otherwise dare grab Abby, pull her into me, kiss her on the lips. I’m inexperienced and she’s surprised, so it’s awkward at first. But when the shock wears off, she spreads her lip and sends her tongue into my mouth. It’s sweet and velvet and perfect, and I groan and buck.

“Oh, fuck,” she mouths, “There you go.”

I’ve pinched my eyes closed, my body tense, my cock in pure ecstasy. As Abby pumps me, wave after wave of heaven surges through me. Cum shoots from me, each jet of spunk bringing a fulfillment more profound than anything I’ve ever felt from my own hands.

When my cock finally goes limp, Abby releases it and gasps, holding up her hand. “Holy hell, Richard,” she says in amazement, showing off the thick ropes of jizz dripping down her palm, her wrist. “I bet it felt good to get all that out.”

“You fucking kidding me?” I pant, fighting to recover my breath. Fighting to stay standing upright.

The real world returns slowly, a warm and fuzzy shell there to receive my rebound into consciousness. I tuck my cock back in my shorts where it belongs while Abby washes her hands. Things are different now, right? But I don’t know where they stand, I have no idea what to do next.

“So, um,” she says, for once as much at a loss for words as I am, “I guess I probably should be going…”

“Come with me,” I blurt.

She looks up sharply. “What?”

“To the wedding. As my date,” I throw the words out, not letting myself think too hard about what I’m saying, “The couple won’t care if I bring someone extra, and also, you…”

I can see the objection forming in her mind, see her finding a way to let me down gently. But she says, “I what?”

“You’re beautiful.”

She actually blushes a little. “I’ve really done a number on you, haven’t I?”

“I won’t be a weirdo, I promise. You still have time to get ready, we’re plenty early. And–”

“Richard, Richard!” she cuts me off.

I stop my mouth from running. “What?”

“Yes, I’ll come with you.”

“You will? Really?”

She grins. “Yes. Now, go tell my brother. And maybe consider skipping past the details as to why.”

A pit opens in my stomach. “Oh. Uh… yeah.”

An hour later, squeezed into an impossibly small rear seat in Abby’s Porsche, the g-forces press me into the wall. She whips us through the twisting mountain roads, gunning the motor as we make our way to the winery.

“I still don’t understand what Abby’s doing coming with us,” Alexander huffs, tucked securely into the passenger seat, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Look, man,” I say, scrambling futilely for a handhold, “I asked her to, ok?”

“Yeah, but why?”

I catch Abby’s eye in the mirror, her knowing smirk, her sly wink. Then it’s gone as I’m pulled sideways.

“Just because,” I say, “I dunno.”

Abby looks fucking stunning, of course. I’d always heard that after nutting, all you’re supposed to see is a woman’s flaws. But that’s not happening here. Abby looks like the most beautiful woman in the world with her long hair down and body wrapped in her breezy red summer dress. I’ve even seen her in this exact dress before, but something is different about it today.

At the wedding, Abby is the perfect date, attentive to my awkwardness, polite to my friends, charming everyone she meets. And then her and I dance like nobody’s business, setting the dancefloor on fire, shutting the party down. I am not shy, not at all.

After the wedding, we get back to Abby’s home. Alexander stumbles out of the car and meanders up to the front door, shoes in his hand, a drunken heaviness to his eyelids. Abby helps him inside and gets him to bed. She comes out from his room and sees me lingering in the hall.

“Um,” I say, “Thanks for coming with me, and, err…” I blush, “Everything else, like…”

She grins, a flirty look. “You want to come to bed with me, don’t you?”

I swallow, but there’s not really any point in denying it, is there? So I own it, don’t look away like I normally would, don’t try to hide anything. “I really, really want that, yes.” Confidence sounds foreign from my lips.

And it works. She takes my hand, pulls me into her bedroom. The world reaches my eyes in vivid detail, every corner of every surface highlighted. “I think Leanne was sending me nasty looks,” Abby says, “Maybe I had it backwards, who was into who. Whatever. She can’t miss what she never had.”

She pushes me down onto her bed. I prop myself up on my elbows, every iota of my attention fully hers. Her dress drops to the floor, and then her panties, too. She’s perfect. My boner returns, full force.

Abby smiles. “I’m going to teach you how to fuck me, Richard.” She climbs up beside me, petting my cheek. “Starting with eating pussy,”

I whimper as she sits down on my face. I am in heaven.