Eighth-Grade Sex Challenge

Clark and Tommy, age 14, each randomly choose a female classmate to woo with the goal of bedding her. Their plans go awry when love enters the equation.

Part One

When I was in the sixth grade during the 1975-76 academic year, I, Tommy Brennan, had a terrific classmate named Clark Deerfield. We had occasionally been in the same classes a few times since kindergarten, but we hadn’t been much more than acquaintances. That quickly changed for the better one day in October 1975.

While waiting for the school’s doors to open, I overheard Clark excitedly talking about the superb ongoing World Series with other boys who clearly did not share his level of passion about baseball. I quickly joined in the discussion until the others had silently drifted off elsewhere, leaving just the two of us exchanging scholarly points of view about the Boston Red Sox and Cincinnati Reds. We also learned that we both followed hockey closely, too. Suddenly we both had new best friends—each other!

We would spend entire recesses discussing the merits of various MLB and NHL teams and the strengths and weaknesses of all their players. It was great fun! According to our teacher, Mr. Brannigan—who listened to our arguments despite having no real interest in sports himself—what we were doing was “stimulating our intellects and debating skills” by using facts and anecdotes to bolster our positions. He complimented us on our shared hobby and even mentioned it to the class and to the other teachers at Crestview Public School.

Of course, these sports debates of ours carried on well beyond school hours. Clark would often visit my house and I would visit his—especially if there was a game on TV for us to watch. One thing we enjoyed doing was getting the rosters of every MLB and NHL team and ranking their players as A, B, C or D in their quality. It was amazing how often our lists matched exactly. Whenever we disagreed about something, we would argue, in a fun way (of course), for hours on end.

One Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1978, we were at Clark’s house watching the MLB Game of the Week telecast in his family’s rec room. No one else was present. While in the midst of debating the merits and shortcomings of Bobby Grich compared to those of Steve Garvey, Clark suddenly shifted gears. He said to me out of the blue, “Tommy, we’re always ranking and comparing baseball players and hockey players. Just for a change, let’s rank something we both personally encounter five days a week.”

Curious, I took the bait Clark was dangling. “And what would that be?” I asked.

“How about the girls in our class, Tommy? That could be fun.”

We were both 14 years old at the time, as we each had birthdays that fell early in the calendar year. Until that afternoon, I had never heard Clark even acknowledge there were girls in our class. Likewise, they had never been much of an interest of mine. However, when puberty strikes, it can quickly become a powerful force in any boy that can shift his interest from MLB infielders to pretty faces without much warning.

We both cheekily grinned at one another before I broke the short silence. “Okay,” I said, “let’s do this exactly the same way we’d analyze the Houston Astros or the Detroit Red Wings. We’ll rank each girl as an A, B, C, or D.” This was obviously a milestone moment in our friendship as tween boys—so much so that we shook hands before we began our task. Clark picked up a notepad and, purely from memory, together we compiled an accurate list of the 15 female students in Mr. Ambrose's eighth-grade class. Then, on separate sheets of paper, we independently assigned them their grades. (Yes, the exercise was somewhat tacky, dehumanizing, objectifying and sexist…but we didn’t care! Why should we? We were normal 14-year-old boys with raging hormones who had finally noticed the opposite sex.)

After about five or six minutes we had both finished. Remarkably, we only disagreed on one girl’s category. Clark gave Suzanne Edwards a C ranking, while I gave her a B. Of course, this led to the same sort of argument we’d have if we disputed the merits of a baseball or hockey player. While we both agreed that Suzanne was “cute in her own way,” Clark thought she was “too much on the chunky side” for a legitimate B ranking. I disagreed, insisting on the “that means there’s more of her to love” argument. It was a familiar phrase to me as I’d heard my father use occasionally.

Of course, ranking girls on their attractiveness inevitably led to discussions about sex—something that was an utterly new topic for the two of us to converse about. We both honestly admitted to having zero sexual experience and almost as little when it came to romancing girls. “Maybe we ought to try to change that,” I suggested.

Clark came up with an interesting idea. Waving his list, he said, “I doubt any of these 15 girls has a boyfriend…so I say we should become the boyfriends of two of them.”

“Any particular two?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Clark paused for a moment and said, “For fun, I say we do this completely randomly. Let’s write all 15 names on slips of paper, and put the slips into this.” Clark held up an empty foil bag that had contained potato chips half an hour before, then he continued. “Each of us will draw a name from the bag—and that is who he gets. There are no second chances, no do-overs, nothing like that. On Monday morning, we each start romancing our respective girl and see if we can get anywhere with her.”

“And the point of all this is what?” I asked.

Clark gave me a disbelieving look. “The point?” he exclaimed with incredulity, “Whichever one of us fucks his girl first is the winner!”

I asked an even sillier second question. “And what’s the prize for winning?”

“You idiot, the prize is fucking one of the girls in our class!” he bellowed. Then Clark lowered his voice and noted, “Hopefully it’s someone from the A-List!”

“Oh, okay…count me in,” I said rather sheepishly. I already suspected that Clark was going to be better at this unusual challenge than I would be.

Clark quickly grabbed a blank sheet from the notepad and a pair of scissors from a drawer. He cut 15 slips that were all approximately the same size. As he did this, I began to write a girl’s name on each slip. I stopped when I came to the only female classmate whom we had both given a D ranking. It was Diane Maloney. By any reasonable standard, she was extremely homely.

“Let’s make one slight adjustment to the rules,” I suggested. “Let’s not put Diane Maloney’s name into the bag. That would be cruel and unusual punishment for either one of us to draw her name.”

“Good idea,” Clark agreed. “If Diane was one of 50 contestants in a beauty pageant, she’d finish 51st.” Cruel as Clark’s assessment was, it was entirely accurate. Accordingly, the potato chip bag contained just 14 girls’ names instead of 15.

The bag was dark yellow so neither of us could see through it to cheat to draw or avoid a certain girl’s name. Myself, I was hoping to draw Heather Anderson. She was a foxy little darling with a pretty face, shoulder-length brown hair, and burgeoning breasts. (According to a male cousin of mine, Heather had an older sister in high school who was reputed to be stunningly good looking.)

I mentioned my preferred choice of girl to Clark. He nodded and countered by saying Charlotte Dempsey was more to his liking. She had flowing locks of beautiful blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes—and was not badly built herself. Both Heather and Charlotte had been easily slotted onto the A-List, of course. We wished each other good luck. Since the girlfriend lottery had been Clark’s idea, I gave him the honor to draw a name from the bag first.

Clark took a deep breath and slowly dipped his hand into the bag. I used my fingers to mimic a drumroll on the table. The name that fate gave him was Mary Campbell—someone who was on the B-List. Clark was philosophical about it. “It’s not Charlotte, but I certainly could have done worse—a lot worse.” I agreed with him. (Actually, I had considered placing Mary, a short girl with straight jet-black hair, on my A-List, but she was a little bit too skinny for my tastes.) Clark closed the bag, gave it a couple of good shakes, and then handed it to me. To my surprise, there were a few butterflies in my stomach as I placed my right hand inside the bag. Clark mimicked the drumroll this time. I liberally stirred the 13 remaining names and dramatically drew…Maddie Foster.

Clark and I both had the same reaction: A thoughtful but positive “Hmm!” It seemed like a perfect response. Madeline (Maddie) Foster wasn’t obviously attractive in the same prominent way that Heather and Charlotte both were—but she certainly wasn’t unattractive, either. An average size brunette with a head of extremely curly hair, she was a very good student who often asked excellent, thought-provoking queries to Mr. Ambrose. He often began his replies with, “Great question, Maddie!” which earned her that as a nickname. She had a twin brother, Mitchell, who was in the other eighth-grade class in our school. Maddie too had a spot on the B-List. “I’m quite happy with my pick,” I said without thinking about it very long.

“Yeah, the brainy type suits you well, Tommy,” Clark commented. He himself was a solid B student while I tended to get report cards that were heavy on As. Clark summarized our girl lottery. “So, it’s agreed: Starting Monday morning, you will pursue Maddie Foster and I will charm Mary Campbell. Just between us, we’ll call this project ‘Operation RF.’”

I was a totally puzzled by those initials. “Okay, you have me stumped, Clark. What does RF stand for?” I asked.

“Romance and Fuck,” replied Clark
.
“Fair enough,” I said with a chuckle. “Now let’s get back to something far more important: I still believe Bobby Grich is a more valuable ballplayer for a team to have than Steve Garvey.”

Part Two

I spent much of the rest of that weekend pondering how I would approach Maddie Foster at school on Monday. When that morning finally came, I decided the best plan was to be completely direct with her. She was standing alone near the hooks on the wall where everyone in our class hung our jackets. Mustering all the confidence I could manage, I strode up to her and said, “Maddie, I’ve been thinking about this for two days. I like you very much. You are a terrific girl, and I’d want to walk you home after school today. Would that be okay with you?”

Maddie seemed momentarily startled by my sudden interest in her, but that didn’t stop her from giving me an enthusiastic yes in about three seconds. For the first time I noticed that Maddie had a beautiful smile and cute dimples. She kind of glowed for a moment as she looked at me. There were two things that promptly entered my mind: (1) Successfully asking a girl for a date—if walking one home was akin to a date—was easier than I had thought it would be; and (2) maybe I had underestimated her; I should have given Maddie Foster an A-List ranking rather than a mere B.

At lunchtime that day, I got an unexpected visit from her brother Mitchell, whom I hardly knew. I thought he perhaps was an overprotective sibling and might be looking for a fight. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

He said, “Tommy, I want to thank you for wanting to walk Maddie home today. She told me about it a few minutes ago. I’ve never seen her so happy. She was honestly afraid that no boy would ever be interested in her. Can you believe that? You’re a good guy, Tommy!”

I just responded, “Sure, no problem. I’m happy to do it.” He shook my hand firmly and walked away. So far, Operation RF was going splendidly for me.

At recess that morning, I learned that Clark had similar success with Mary Campbell using a slightly more extravagant approach. He told Mary that he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the entire eighth grade and he desperately wanted to take her on a date to see a movie. She also said yes immediately. When I told him I was walking Maddie home from school, he gave me the thumbs-up signal. We both agreed that we had done quite well so far in the romance business considering our utter lack of experience before that morning.

After school, Maddie was waiting for me outside our classroom. She was all smiles. Trying my best to be a gentleman, I assisted her in putting on her jacket. We walked out the door and I had to admit to her I had no idea where she lived. If I were heading to my home, I’d be turning to the right. Maddie’s house, I learned, was completely in the opposite direction.

Along the way, we conversed about many things. I told her she was a bright girl who was also very pretty. She liked the compliments. Maddie confessed she had always quietly liked me—which was a complete surprise. (I began to wonder how many other female classmates felt that way!) She thought my hobby of following sports closely was interesting, although I’m not sure that was a totally honest comment.

About halfway to her house, Maddie took the initiative to grasp my hand as we walked. That bolstered my courage considerably. Our pace noticeably slowed as neither of us was in a hurry to end the romantic walk. When we got within about 50 yards of her house, I mustered the nerve to ask her for a real date at the old-fashioned ice cream parlor that was a big attraction in town, especially for couples. We agreed to go there the next night—provided her parents approved of the idea. When we got to her door, there was the awkward moment about what to do when I said goodbye. Neither of us said a word but we both took a step toward each other and made contact with our lips. I would have been quite content with a brief peck, but Maddie was far more amorous. She gave me an arousing buss that lasted about a dozen seconds.

“Wow!” I finally uttered when Maddie released me. “This has been a great day!”

“I think tomorrow will be even better,” Maddie said as she entered her house and shut the door behind her.

As I made the long walk from Maddie’s home to mine, I took stock of what had occurred that day. I pleasantly concluded, “This isn’t some phony romance operation as part of a crazy contest between two boys. I really like this girl! I can’t wait for tomorrow to arrive.”

Part Three

It hadn’t occurred to me that an eighth-grade romance would directly involve a girl’s parents, but, of course, that was the case. The next morning Maddie told me I could come by her house at 6 p.m. I had been invited to dinner, after which her father would drive us to the ice cream parlor, depart, and return 90 minutes later to pick us up. Well, at least we’d be without the burden of gawking parents for a whole hour and a half.

Seated at the dinner table were Maddie’s two parents, her twin brother Mitchell, and her kindergarten-age sister, Cathy (whom I didn’t know existed until that night). Maddie’s kin—especially her mom and dad—were beyond pleasant towards me. They were genuinely thrilled about how cheerful Maddie had been since I had walked her home the previous afternoon. They definitely wanted to get to know the classmate who was responsible for their daughter’s happiness. During the excellent meal, Mrs. Foster mentioned this dramatic and positive change. She said, “Great-Question-Maddie is a little self-conscious sometimes.”

I laughed over her mother using Maddie’s quirky school nickname. So did her twin brother, who was seated to my left. Maddie gave her mom a disapproving stare, but she did not dispute the point. “Why should Maddie be self-conscious?” I asked Mrs. Foster. I was quite serious. “I think your daughter is absolutely beautiful. It took forever for lowly old me to ask her for a date. I’m in her classroom, but not in her class.”

Maddie was beaming again. There was a bit of a pause in the conversation before Mr. Foster said, “Did you hear that, Maddie? Tommy thinks you’re beautiful. You ought to keep this guy. He’s polite, modest, respectful…and he has superb taste in girls.”

Even Mitchell liked what I had said to his sister, but for a different reason. “That was great, Tommy,” he declared. “I think I’ll memorize that line and use it whenever I need to impress a girl’s parents,” he noted with a broad grin. I and everyone else chuckled at Mitchell’s unexpected and witty remark.

Little Cathy chimed in, too, amusingly asking her parents if she “would ever have a nice boyfriend to love, just like Tommy”. I thanked her for the compliment and told her I had a six-year-old cousin named David who would probably enjoy having such a pretty girlfriend, which caused her to blush. I was quickly becoming popular with the whole Foster family!

Not long after I received high praise from her father, he drove Maddie and me to the ice cream parlor for our ice cream date. Before I got out of the car, Mr. Foster quietly slipped me a $10 bill. “This date really means a lot to Maddie,” he told me. “Let me cover the cost, Tommy.” I tried to decline the cash, but he literally shoved the banknote into my shirt pocket. “No, it’s on me,” he insisted. “You’re a fine young fellow, Tommy. Enjoy your dessert.”

Maddie and I ordered the house specialty: huge banana splits created with ice cream and toppings that were produced within the store. They were delicious! I placed them on a tray and brought them to a vacant table. Maddie and I sat across from each other and talked…and talked…and talked some more, pausing intermittently to enjoy our tasty treats. Somewhere along the line we joined hands—both of them. As an aside, Maddie mentioned that she was good friends with Mary Campbell, which was a bit of a coincidence. I hadn’t known that. (Clark and I had, of course, agreed to never mention our girlfriend lottery to anyone else, so I did my best not to react strongly to that bit of news.) When we rose to leave at the time Mr. Foster said he’d return for us, we passed a man and a woman seated at another table who had to be in their seventies. The elderly woman stopped us and sweetly said that Maddie and I made a cute couple.

“I think so, too,” replied a smiling Maddie.

“It’s our first date,” I informed them. “I hope we have about 10,000 more.”

“Well done, young fellow,” the man said. I’m not sure if he was commenting about my taste in girls or my skillful display of smooth-talking. Perhaps it was both. I smiled, took Maddie by the hand, and walked her outside to the spot where her father’s Pontiac automobile was idling.

When we both slid into the backseat of the car, Maddie’s father suddenly noticed something I had not: There were tears rolling down Maddie’s cheeks. He asked, “Maddie, why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

I was startled. “Yeah, Maddie, what’s wrong?” I interjected. Then I became somewhat panicky. “Did I do something wrong, Maddie? Did I say something wrong? Honest, Mr. Foster, I didn’t do anything wrong! Really!”

Maddie quickly cleared up the mystery. “Dad, they’re happy tears,” she said in a quavering voice. “As we were leaving the ice cream parlor, Tommy just said something that was so incredibly beautiful that it made me cry. He has to be the sweetest, kindest, gentlest boy in the world.” Then her tears really started to flow.

I gave Mr. Foster a perplexed look and shrugged my shoulders at Maddie’s sudden outburst.

“You better get used to it, Tommy,” he advised me in a fatherly tone. “Females can be emotional roller coasters. Maddie’s mother certainly is! By the way, if you don’t embrace my darling daughter within the next five seconds, you are a cad!” I happily did. I literally hugged and kissed Maddie’s tears away. In the mirror, I could see Mr. Foster smiling.

Over the next month, Maddie and I became inseparable. My visits with Clark to discuss baseball and hockey began to dwindle while my trips to Maddie’s house—and her visits to mine—became frequent. My parents both adored her. On her third visit, to have dinner at my home for the first time, my impressed father graciously said to her, “Maddie, if my son doesn’t marry you in about a dozen years, he’s a damn fool.” At which point Maddie began to cry more happy tears again. “I have to say the men in this family have quite a way with words,” Maddie explained between sniffles as she rapidly wiped her eyes and cheeks with a tissue from her pocket.

My earthy mother said with a dismissive wave of her left hand, “Oh, they’re both full of…malarkey. Yeah, that’s the word I’m looking for—malarkey. But he’s right in this case, Maddie. You’d make a wonderful daughter-in-law someday. I truly mean that.”

Purely by chance, one day at school Clark and I ran into each other in a hallway without our respective girlfriends being at our sides—which was now a rarity. “Long time no see, my old friend!” he said as a greeting.

“Yes, indeed,” I replied. “Hey, I need to talk to you,” I added.

“Fire away,” Clark instructed me. “Why do I think this conversation won’t be about the Stanley Cup playoffs?”

“Not even close,” I admitted. “I want to bail out of Operation RF. “

“Why? Did you break up with Maddie?” Clark asked me with genuine concern in his voice.

“No—just the opposite!” I stated. “I’m head-over-heels in love with her and I don’t want to mess this up by trying to coerce her into having sex.”

Clark paused for a moment before saying with a huge grin, “Who would have thought our girl lottery would produce the same problem for both of us?”

I burst out laughing. “You, too…with Mary?” I asked. He did not need to answer. The truth was plainly written on his face. “Unbelievable,” I stated. “Well, it looks like we both have the romance part of this plan mastered, don’t we?”

I finally wondered aloud, “Clark, do you suppose Maddie and Mary think about sex, too? Maybe they’re in favor of it. They’re friends. Girls get together all the time to discuss their feelings. I bet they talk about us all the time. Maybe they wouldn’t object to sex.”

“Perhaps, but how do we approach this subject tactfully?” Clark inquired. It was a very good question
.
Then an act of God suddenly occurred. Mary and Maddie approached the two of us, seemingly out of nowhere. “This is a timely meeting,” Maddie said. “Mary and I have been talking about an important subject that involves all of us. We four need to have a little chat after school. Let’s meet in the study room of the school library after the last bell so we can do that.”

Both Clark and I had worried looks on our faces. Clark managed to ask the girls if anything was wrong.

“No, nothing is wrong at all,” Mary insisted. “You’ll like hearing what we have to tell you.”

When school was dismissed the four of us headed to the library and got permission to use its vacant private study room. All four of us quickly filed in. Mary, the last to enter, shut the door and got right to the point. “Why haven’t you two bozos asked us for sex yet?”

I nearly fell off my chair in shock. Clark gasped and began to cough and gag.

“What?” I managed to ask. I noticed my voice was higher pitched than usual when I spoke.

“You heard me,” said Mary. “Everything we’ve read about dating and relationships says that boys are wired for sex and will eventually start to expect it from their girlfriends. We demand to know what’s the matter with you two. Are we unappealing to you?”

Clark and I battled to get the next word in.

“Unappealing? Hell, no!” I blurted defensively.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Clark shouted. “You two unappealing? That’s a laugh.”

“Hey, are you eying my beautiful girlfriend, Clark? Shame on you!” I said for a bit of comic relief.

For the next awkward 10 or 15 minutes, Clark and I tried our best to honestly explain that we were both desperately in love and we didn’t want to jeopardize our respective relationships by demanding sex. However, Clark casually mentioned that we’d be more than happy to engage it in if we were asked to do so.

“I have to warn you, Maddie,” I confessed. “I would be really easy to convince.” All four of us laughed at that statement.

We all eagerly agreed this would be a wonderful new experience for us and that we were equally desperate to find out if sexual intercourse was as terrific as it was advertised to be.

Mary then suggested a rather shocking idea. She explained, “This weekend my father is away on a business trip, and my mother won’t be home until about 10 p.m. on Friday. I have no brothers or sisters. Therefore, we could be the only ones at my house from when school gets out until ten o’clock. I say we use this opportunity to fuck like crazy.”

Wondering about the logistics of this marvelous plan, I quickly asked Mary, “So does that mean Maddie and I would use your parents’ bed to have sex?”

“Here’s a better idea,” said Mary with a devilish smile. “Let’s all use the rec room…together. There are two couches, plenty of soft chairs and pillows. Do you two bozos follow what I’m saying?”

We two bozos certainly did. I felt compelled to ask Maddie if she was comfortable having her first sexual experience witnessed by two other people. I was floored by her answer. She said, “Tommy, I suggested the idea to Mary.”

After a long silence I said, “That’s why you’re called Great-Question-Maddie!”

Mary said, “I guess it’s settled: Friday afternoon at my house. Bring your libidos, boys. This ought to be fun!”

Part Four

It seemed like forever before Friday came. When it did arrive, it was another eternity before that school day finally ended. Throughout the day’s lessons I was a seriously distracted pupil. So were the other three members of our soon-to-be intimate foursome. When the bell finally rang to dismiss us, we hastily grabbed our jackets and other belongings. We pretty much sprinted to Mary’s house which was situated just two short blocks from our school. Our parents wouldn’t be looking for us until well into the evening. Mary had called all of them, several days in advance, to tell them she was having a pizza party that night for her friends, so we would not be home for an evening meal. This was completely true. However, Mary deliberately neglected to mention there would be no adult supervision and enjoying hot pizza would be secondary to fucking.

Mary unlocked the door and we all rushed inside. Mary then shut and relocked it. She joked, “I ordered our pizzas well in advance…and we don’t need the delivery person walking in on the four of us.” Mary led us downstairs to the rec room. Her description of it had been an accurate one. There were two large, leather couches which looked to be quite new. There were big chairs and pillows. Mary was liberally spreading the latter across the floor.

Then we all sat down, in four different places, wondering how to begin.

“This is great,” I commented. “No one knows how to start!”

“Shall we get undressed?” suggested my lovely girlfriend who, just a few weeks earlier, had been accused of being self-conscious by her concerned mother.

“Sounds good to me!” said Clark. He and I quickly disrobed until we were down to our briefs. The girls stripped just as quickly to their white bras and pink panties. Not that it mattered one iota, but I wondered if they had deliberately arranged to be color-coordinated in their choice of undergarments.

“God, you two are sexy!” Clark blurted out. I nodded in agreement as Clark’s comment was right on the money.

Unlike some females in Mr. Ambrose's class, Mary and Maddie both obviously needed brassieres. I looked at Clark. We were both thoroughly aroused. If our sweethearts couldn’t see our erections, they just weren’t paying attention.

Mary was the first to lose her bra, tossing it gently to the floor. She had pointy little tits that just begged to be sucked. I gave her a round of applause that caused Mary to giggle. Maddie gave me a nasty look. “I’ll be giving you more than applause, my love,” I told her.

That comment seemed to encourage Maddie to drop her bra, too. It was the first time I had seen her womanly treasures—and I was not disappointed. Perhaps because she was several months older than Mary, her breasts were bigger and rounder than her friend’s tits. She cupped them in a very sexy manner—which caused Clark to applaud.

“I gave Clark a dirty look and declared, “Mine, mine…all mine!”

Clark said, “If I don’t get naked this very second my dick will poke a hole in my shorts!” He lifted the underwear over his erect phallus and approached Mary at the couch where she was standing. Mary dropped her panties to reveal a nearly bald pussy. Similarly, Maddie had a bit of hair covering her pretty vaginal area. I dropped my briefs too and headed toward the girl whom I loved. I had carefully planned my lovemaking technique for two days. Accordingly, I led Maddie to a large, soft chair with a high back.

I positioned Maddie on my lap. We began kissing passionately—something we had gotten quite good at during the past month. Being nude took our smooching to another level, of course. I fondled her sensuous breasts with gentle vigor. As soon as her nipples became hard, I began sucking on them. it was wonderful! To my delight, Maddie began to fondle my dick while whispering in my ear that she loved me “more than life itself.” Those were her exact words. She put my shaft against her pussy and started to rub it. This was not part of my plan. My 14-year-old brain promptly experienced sensory overload—and I quickly blasted a load of sticky cum that mostly fell upon Maddie’s stomach. Amazingly, from the comment I heard a few feet away, Clark had similarly fared no better in his self-control. “Aw, shit!” he loudly said, clearly coming well before he had done much with or to Mary. It occurred to me that was the first time I’d ever heard Clark swear.

Luckily Mary had done her homework and had foreseen this possibility. She had prepared lots of towels and rags for the inevitable mess that 14-year-olds having sex for the first time would inevitably make on themselves, the carpet, and the furniture. Clark and I both sat with defeated looks on our faces, with half stiff penises, clearly embarrassed by our disastrous inability to control ourselves at this milestone moment in our lives.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Maddie said sweetly. “Mary and I read all about this. It’s actually kind of a compliment to us. We made you ejaculate too quickly.” Maddie took a paper towel and wiped away my jism from her torso. Then she got another one to clean the area around my scrotum. “What a doll you are, Maddie! I love you so much,” I said.

Clark said, “I know a way to apologize. Girls, spread your legs, please!” They obediently did. Clark and I then licked their vaginas nonstop until they both came. Like Clark and I 10 minutes earlier, both Mary and Maddie came within seconds of each other. I don’t know about Mary’s, but the taste of Maddie’s orgasm was delightful. Then we returned the favor and cleaned them off with towels and wet cloths. I looked at the rec room clock. The four of us had been “at it” for slightly less than 30 minutes.

One advantage of being a horny, 14-year-old male is that your recuperative powers are typically quite remarkable. Both Clark and I returned to fully erect status in a short time. We were more than happy to display this to our sexy girlfriends. I took Maddie in my arms and softly put her on a couch. I whispered into her ear, “I’m not wasting any more time; I’ve learned my lesson.” I quickly mounted her and shoved my penis into her tight little vagina and happily thrusted away. To my delight, Maddie was an active lover and got into a fantastic coital rhythm with me. “Tommy, I’m going to come again!” she shouted.

“Me too,” I agreed.

In all my life I’ve never felt any greater pleasure than experiencing a simultaneous orgasm with Maddie at that moment. I kept my dick, still very hard, inside her for several minutes as we both continued to pant.

Clark and Mary had a different approach in their second try. As the key moment approached Mary asked Clark to pull out and come on her tits. Clark had no objection to that at all…and that’s what he did. “I hope we don’t run out of paper towels tonight,” Mary said, as her lover’s jism rolled down her attractive chest.

We enjoyed groping, sucking and fucking our partners until quarter to six, when Mary announced, “The pizza will be arriving in 15 minutes. I better put some clothes on for when the delivery man gets here.”

“Nah, don’t get dressed. Give him a thrill,” Clark jokingly suggested. “He’ll likely blow his load just as quickly as I did.”

There was, however, one enormous misunderstanding that almost caused a major row. After we had finished our pizza dinner at around 6:45, we all disrobed again for some more carnal delights. Maddie went to the restroom for a few minutes, so she didn’t see Mary approaching me with that devilish smile of hers. Mary took me by surprise by kneeling before me and sensually caressing my penis. I naturally started to fondle her pointy breasts since the opportunity presented itself. Clark was strangely okay with this weird development. When Maddie returned, she saw Mary in the midst of giving me a terrific hand job and rightfully asked her friend what was going on.

“Oh, I thought we were going to switch boyfriends for the rest of the night,” Mary explained.
“No, that wasn’t part of the plan! We never discussed that at all!” Maddie said angrily. Then she spoke directly to me. “Tommy,” she ordered, “get over here so I can do that.”

Mary quickly became very apologetic to her good friend. “I just assumed…” she began before stopping in mid-sentence.

“I assumed that too,” Clark sheepishly admitted.

“Well, you were both wrong,” Maddie insisted. “Clark, you are a nice guy, but I’m not your girlfriend. I only fuck Tommy. Period. He’s the love of my life.”

Leave it to Clark to say, “I get what you’re saying, Maddie. Mary is the love of my life…but you have a fantastic set of excellent, sexy tits that I’m dying to play with. I’m so disappointed...”