NATE AND THE CROSSROADS 1 by Christian Alan

Feature Writer: Christian_Alan

Feature Title: NATE AND THE CROSSROADS 1

Published: 07.07.2023

Story Codes: Demonic, Supernatural

Synopsis: An unpopular young man makes a deal with the Devil.

Nate And The Crossroads 1

Nate tightened his grip on the controller as he moved his soldier into position. This was his big chance. After several humiliating defeats and virtual teabaggings, he’d finally managed to get an enemy in his sights. He grinned with savage glee as he pressed the fire button and watched his opponent vanish in a satisfying hail of body parts.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Nate yelled at the screen. “I just pwned your ass!”

His victory howl abruptly died as the door to his room burst open and his mother’s head appeared, her frizzy red hair bound up in a haphazard array of curlers.

“Cheese and Rice, Nate!” She exclaimed in her thick mid-western accent. “Keep it down in here, will ya? It’s after nine and your father is trying to sleep!”

Nate rolled his eyes. “Okay mom, God!” He looked back at the screen just in time to see his soldier get obliterated by a rocket to the face.

“Dammit! Now I’m dead. Are you happy?”

His mother was unsympathetic. “You watch your mouth, young man! One more swear and you’re grounded!”

“Okay! Okay!”

She left with a bang. Nate quit the game and flopped down on his bed, sighing in frustration as he ran a hand through his own shaggy red mop of hair. Just another exciting Friday night in the life of Nathaniel Stevens, he thought dismally. Playing video games and jerking off, then in bed by ten o’clock.

Nate knew that somewhere out there, parties were happening. People were having fun. People were having sex. Unfortunately, those people tended to be attractive. Popular. Nate was painfully aware that he was neither of those things. He was a geeky, hopeless virgin, a casualty of his own hormone ravaged body… a body that, even at eighteen years old, still looked like it was fighting a battle with early adolescence. No one seemed to take him seriously, not even his family. And especially not girls.

Sometimes he felt so lonely and sexually frustrated that he thought he was going to explode. And speaking of which, it was about time he got down to business.

Nate went to his computer and opened a hidden folder to a video of his favorite porn star Brooklyn sucking like a vacuum cleaner on some lucky bastard’s cock… a sensation that he despaired of ever experiencing for himself. Nate liked Brooklyn because she was a foxy, stacked brunette with a body built for sin. In one form or another she was present in most of his hottest, stickiest fantasies, and Nate would happily have sold his soul for just one night with her–if he’d thought his soul was worth anything.

He gave a wistful sigh, then set the video on repeat and undid his pants. He was fapping away at a fever pitch when his older sister Stacy suddenly burst into his room without warning.

“Hey dorkus, have you seen my–OMIGOD!”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Nate yelled, doing his best to cover his dick and hide the video at the same time. He really, really, needed a lock for his door. His sister squealed and fled, hollering as she went down the hall.

“Mom! Nate said the F-word! And he was masturbating!”

Nate pulled up his pants and let his head fall to the desk with a thump. Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any worse, it still had a way of surprising him.

---

The next morning at breakfast, Stacy kept kicking him and sticking her tongue out like a five-year-old. Nate kicked back and immediately regretted it.

“I heard that if you masturbate you’ll go blind,” his sister declared loudly. “Is that true, Mom?”

“No, honey. It’s not,” their mother answered, looking at Nate with an awkward smile. He poked at his fruit loops and pretended not to notice, silently praying that a small meteor would crash through the roof and vaporize him.

“Masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy,” his mom continued, then turned toward her husband. “Isn’t it, dear?”

Dad choked and had to gulp down half his orange juice before he could speak. “Err, I suppose. But that’s hardly a subject to discuss at the breakfast table.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Finally, Dad cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” he said, seeming eager to change the subject. “What do you have planned for today, Nathaniel?”

“Nuthin’ really,” Nate replied, though he was entertaining the idea of finding a tall building to leap from, or perhaps quietly suffocating his sister with a pillow.

“Want to help out at the store? We just got some new items in.”

“Sure. Why not.”

His dad was co-owner of an antique shop downtown. Nate was allergic to dust and working there wasn’t much fun, but at this point he was up for anything that would get him out of the house and away from his family. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was actually related to these people.

Especially his sister. Besides being pure concentrated evil, Stacy was basically his exact opposite. She was barely a year older than him, but she was tall, athletic, and popular. She had also inherited their dad’s dark hair. And although he would never admit it, Nate was forced to accept that she was somewhat attractive. At least as far as sisters go.

Then there was Mom. She’d put on a few extra pounds, but he supposed she was in good shape for being in her early forties. She also seemed a little insane. His mother was always apologizing, worrying, or praying. She acted like everything that went wrong in the world was somehow her fault. Nate saw the clear signs of a guilty conscience, but besides occasionally burning dinner or forgetting to wash his favorite jacket, she’d committed no crimes that he knew of.

Dad was… well, Dad. He wasn’t complicated. He had a lame sense of humor, was passionate about his model ships and never drank or raised his voice. He was a tall, stocky man, dark-haired and mildly handsome. Nate couldn’t help but wonder if he resented having a son that was nothing like him.

Nate himself seemed to have been modeled after a short, scrawny Tom Sawyer, complete with buck teeth and freckles. Which was forgivable if you were like, nine, but not when you were a senior in high school and old enough to vote.

He pondered the cruel nature of his genes as he accompanied his dad to the shop. Nate occupied himself by poking around through the new arrivals in the storeroom, finding little of interest until a violent jingle of the door chime suddenly got his attention. He looked out front to see Jack–his dad’s balding, beer-gutted business partner–come striding into the store with his teenage daughter Claire in tow.

Nate’s heart began to beat faster. Claire was very blonde, very pretty, and only a month older than he was. Her dad quickly disappeared into the office and left her alone in the front of the shop. It almost seemed like fate, but Nate wasn’t fooled for a second. Claire was just as evil as his sister. Maybe even worse.

Still, she was hot. Incredibly, stupidly hot.

He peeked out from the back room, staring at her tanned and flawless legs as she browsed the contents of the jewelry case. She was wearing jean shorts and a white baby-tee, both garments hugging the lush contours of her eighteen-year-old body so tightly that he wondered why she didn’t just walk around naked.

Knowing it was destined to be a tragic mistake but still unable to help himself, he cupped his hand to his mouth, checked his breath, and went up to her. He cleared his throat nervously, noting with dismay that she was still taller than he was.

“Hi, Claire. How’s it going?”

She looked at him like he was something she’d stepped in and was eager to scrape off her shoe.

“Oh. Hi Nate.”

“Hey, we got some new jewelry and stuff that I was just, uh, going through…” he babbled, trying his hardest not to stare at her tits. This was no easy feat, as her breasts were unbelievably perky. They had also been crammed into a shirt that was at least one size too small.

For someone who acted like such a prude all the time, Claire sure didn’t dress like one. Besides being a cheerleader and class president, she was also a proud bible-thumper, one of the people that went around school praying for whatever it was that needed praying for–presumably real meat in the Salisbury steak or better pep rally attendance.

An awkward silence fell, and it dawned on him that he’d been stammering. And despite his best efforts, staring. Nate peeled his gaze away from her chest, looked hesitantly into her icy blue eyes and finally focused his attention on the floor.

“Um, what I mean is, if you wanna take a look I could show–”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Claire interrupted brightly. “How about you not talk to me, like ever. Okay? Thanks.”

“Uh, sure. No problem.” Nate slouched dejectedly back to the storeroom, wondering if anyone would notice if he rolled himself up an old carpet and stayed there. He was officially a lost cause. Even when he did manage to keep from acting like a hormone-crazed idiot, no girls ever wanted to talk to him. They either made excuses or just ignored him outright. Some had even tried to beat him up.

“You should know better by now,” he muttered to himself as he started to rummage through the last box of junk. “You’re going to die a virgin. Get used to it.”

Just then something pricked his finger and he pulled back, wincing and feeling faint as he saw a drop of crimson beading on his fingertip. The sight of blood always made him queasy, especially when it was his own. He bandaged his finger with a bit of Kleenex and looked to see what he’d poked himself on. All that was left in the box was an old leather-bound book tied with a ratty cord. He decided that he must have jabbed himself with a splinter somehow.

Nate picked up the book and turned it over in his hands, seeing that it was covered with weird mystical symbols like something right out of Harry Potter. Amused, he untied the cord and opened it, carefully flipping its brittle pages as he tried to decipher the chaotic handwriting within. Sure enough, it was a book of spells. Or at least that’s what it claimed to be. He saw sections on how to put a curse on your neighbor, how to cure a toothache, and how to protect oneself from witches and demons. The last chapter was the most interesting, and Nate found himself grinning and reading it aloud.

“How to Sell Your Soul for Fame and Fortune.”

He read on, his smile slowly fading as he began to process what he was looking at. It was an elaborately detailed recipe for summoning demons; the where, the how, the why, and the precautions you needed to take when bargaining with them. It was basically a road map to eternal Damnation, and Nate couldn’t wait to give it a try.

He felt bad about smuggling the book out of his dad’s store, but he figured he could always bring it back if it turned out to be garbage. Well, of course it was garbage. That crap about selling your soul at the crossroads only happened on TV. Demons weren’t real. Hell, he doubted that souls were even real. Claire and his sister were living proof.

He faked a headache and got his dad to take him home, with his father muttering something about sudden headaches being hereditary as he dropped Nate off at the front door. His research began the minute he got to his room. According to the book not just any crossroads would do, it had to be remote, secluded, and someone had to have been hanged there. Using the modern magic of the internet Nate eventually found a place that would suit his needs, though he was surprised at how long it took. Being in the Midwest he’d imagined that someone had been strung up at practically every crossroad in town. Apparently that wasn’t the case.

Next, he had to prepare for the summoning ritual. He took the old tin box that he’d used to keep his army men in and dumped it out, placing inside it a lock of his hair and the wadded-up Kleenex with a drop of his blood on it. Now all he needed was some dirt from a graveyard and a token to represent what form the demon would take. It took him all of two seconds to decide what that form should be, and in another few minutes it was ready.

It was already mid-afternoon as he hopped on his bike and pedaled toward the outskirts of town. The day was warm and he wasn’t in the best shape, and he wished for about the millionth time that he had a car. But he tended to panic behind the wheel and had failed the driving test three times before giving up… just another in his long list of life’s disappointments.

Nate stopped in the shade of a tree to catch his breath. He’d considered waiting until the next morning when it was cooler out, but it seemed better to try this before Sunday rolled around. Trying to summon a demon on the Sabbath seemed extra wrong somehow.

Not that anything is going to happen, he thought as he resumed pedaling and sweating his way down the road. But hot damn, wouldn’t it be awesome if it did?

He stopped off at the old cemetery just long enough to grab some dirt and put it in the box. The place was overgrown and spooky, with the weathered stone angels seeming to watch him as he made his way past. Those things severely creeped him out. They were almost as bad as clowns.

A short while later he skidded to a halt at the crossroads. It was at the intersection of an old dirt road and a highway that few people used anymore, and supposedly in the eighteen-hundreds a few murderers and horse thieves had been hanged there. Nate could even see the stump of the old hangin’ tree sitting just a little ways off the road. The spot was secluded all right. Desolate even. Rolling fields of wheat grass stretched away in all directions and there wasn’t a soul in sight.

It was dead quiet as Nate stepped off his bike and buried the tin box next to the road. Inside was the hair, the blood, the consecrated dirt, and the token… a full-body color printout of his favorite porn star Brooklyn looking all hot and slutty at some awards show in a slinky, see-through black dress.

Hey, it never hurt to dream.

The shadows were deepening as he patted the last handful of dirt into place. All he had to do now was get the demon’s attention. He dusted off his hands, stood, and began the final part of the ritual.

“Um, I wanna make a deal, I guess.” Nate didn’t remember the exact words, but he thought that was close enough. He held his breath and looked around, listening for the slightest noise, watching for the barest flicker of movement. There was nothing.

Big surprise.

“Hey, demon!” He shouted boldly, certain now that nothing was going to happen. “I wanna make a deal!”

Nate nearly jumped out of his socks when he heard an answer from right behind him. The voice was female, soft and sultry.

“Oh yeah? What kind of deal?”

He shrieked, tried to dart sideways, then tripped and fell on the dirt. He whirled around and froze as he saw a woman in black standing there with one hand resting on her out-thrust hip, her full mouth curved in a wry smile. And holy fuck, it was Brooklyn. Her dark hair hung in a stylish pageboy cut, her dress clung to her like translucent gray-black latex, revealing her milky cleavage and every generous curve of her body. Nate could even make out the dark indistinct circles of her nipples and the shadowy patch of close-trimmed hair on her pussy.

He hadn’t thought it possible to be aroused and terrified at the same time, but now he knew better. He rose slowly to his feet and cleared his throat, reminding himself that he needed to be in charge, in control.

“Um, hi,” he mumbled weakly.

“Hi.” The woman stepped forward and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Nate reached out almost instinctively, then reconsidered when he thought back to the warnings in the book.

“No way. I’m not gonna shake your hand ’till we make a deal.”

She smiled and withdrew her arm. “Whatever you say, kid.”

“So, uh,” he faltered, his eyes roving down her body. “Are… are you really–”

“Brooklyn?” The demon finished, as if reading his mind. “No. This is the shape you wanted, so I took it.” She paused to slide her hands downward over her breasts and along the flaring curves of her hips. “Not a bad choice, I gotta say.”

Nate swallowed hard, aware of a growing stickiness in his shorts. “Ok, then what’s your real name?”

“You can call me Maxine,” she answered. “And you are Nathaniel Laurence Stevens, aged eighteen and a virgin, seemingly for life.”

He blinked at her in awe. “How did you–”

“I know things. I’m a demon.”

“B-but you’re really a girl too, right?” Nate stammered. He’d seen his fair share of weird hentai and didn’t want any surprises.

She was starting to look annoyed. “Yes. I’m a girl. A girl demon. Got it?”

“Okay, then I command you to kiss me.” Nate said, leaning forward and puckering up expectantly.

The demon rolled her eyes and snorted. “Listen, kid. I’m not your slave. You bring me here and we make a deal. That’s it. So, if you don’t mind, let’s get down to business. I got places to be.” With an abrupt flourish she produced an iPad seemingly from thin air and stood waiting, stylus poised.

Nate wasn’t listening. The gesture had resulted in a quick heave of her chest and now he was staring spellbound right at her tits, about three seconds away from full-out drooling.

“Hey. Up here, Romeo.” She waved her hand a few times and finally got his attention. “Well? What is it you want more than anything else?”

He thought for a moment, though he already knew the answer.

“I want girls to like me,” he said.

“Hmm.” Maxine touched the end of the stylus thoughtfully to her bottom lip, and Nate was never so jealous of a writing instrument in his life. “You might want to be a little more specific.”

“I want girls to like like me,” he added, feeling himself blush.

“Oooh, the double like. That’s serious,” she mocked. “Lemme ask you a question, kiddo. Are you sure you really want to do this? Are you really prepared to throw away your eternal soul just to get some cheap teenage nookie?”

Nate hesitated. When she put it like that, it did sound a little dumb.

“I thought so.” The demon smiled thinly and then turned away. “Go home,” she called back, throwing him a dismissive wave as she walked toward the intersection, her large, sleekly rounded buttocks twitching provocatively beneath her shiny dress. “Just relax, spank the monkey twice a day and wait for college. Trust me, everyone has a chance there.”

Nate set his jaw. The thought of going back home to his lonely–and let’s face it–pathetic life was more than he could stand. He couldn’t take another day of it, let alone another year.

“Wait!” He lunged and caught her by the arm, surprised by his own boldness. Her skin felt very warm, almost hot. Maxine raised one perfect eyebrow and looked at him with an expression of new-found interest.

“Let’s make a deal.” He looked her in the eyes, placed a hand on each of her smooth shoulders, and kissed her. Her lips were soft and tasted like honey. She smelled like a spicy blend of perfume, smoke, and some other musky, heady aroma that he couldn’t quite define, but something about the scent triggered a violent surge in his cock and added a small torrent of pre-cum to the already sticky mess in his shorts.

A second later she pushed him away with a firm but easy shove.

“Why Nathaniel,” she said, feigning shock. “There might be some hope for you after all.”

---

“So, as per the agreement, you,” Maxine said, pointing at him with the stylus, “Nathaniel Laurence Stevens, will become irresistible to women for a term of ten years, at which time we will collect that which is owed, namely your soul. Both parties are prohibited from extending or reducing this term by any means, nefarious or otherwise, except by mutual agreement. In the event of incidental death or quote-un-quote ‘Act of God,’ collection will take place immediately.”

She looked at him and smiled sweetly. “Any questions?”

“Not really, no.” Nate shrugged. He wasn’t really paying attention. He was becoming more and more convinced that he must be dreaming all this.

“Good. Sign, please.” She twirled the iPad toward him and held out the stylus.

Nate signed, feeling strangely okay with it even as the stylus and iPad evaporated in his hands like mist.

Maxine shook his hand. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

As he enjoyed the warmth of her hand in his, an overdue thought pushed its way to the front of his muddled, lust-filled brain.

“Just a sec. You said that in ten years you would, uh, collect what I owe you. How is that possible if I’m still alive?”

“Oh, that.” She frowned slightly. “We send a pack of hellhounds to rip you to pieces and then carry those pieces screaming down to the Lake of Fire.”

Nate broke out in a smile, certain that she was joking. His smile quickly died as he saw the look on her face and realized she was dead serious.

“Sorry, kid.” The demon said with a shrug. “Them’s the breaks.” She kissed him softly on the cheek, her moist, almost scalding lips leaving behind a fiery mark that flared brightly before fading away. Then she was gone, vanishing in the space of a blink as a sudden gust of wind sent dry leaves skittering across the road.

Nate rubbed his cheek absently, too stunned to react to either the kiss or his apparent death sentence. He collected his gear and rode back towards town, growing surer with every mile that he’d imagined the whole thing and was in need of some serious therapy.

The sun was setting as he turned off the highway and onto Main Street. He was so deeply absorbed in thoughts about the nature of his mental illness that he didn’t notice the small blue hatchback that swerved slightly as it passed from the opposite direction, the brown-skinned college girl behind the wheel looking at him with such rapt fascination that she missed the next curve and drove right into a ditch. Dazed, confused, and inexplicably horny, the girl stared into her airbag and wondered just what it was about that skinny little white guy that’d made her crash her car.

Unaware of his imminent peril, Nate coasted into town with the idea of grabbing a Gatorade or something at the corner store. He rode into the parking lot and was about to chain up his bike when he noticed a pair of Girl Scouts standing at the curb, looking nearly identical in their brown uniforms and black berets. Neither could have been older than eleven but they were staring at him with an intensity that made him feel uncomfortable. A creepy shiver went up Nate’s back as they looked at each other and began walking toward him in almost perfect unison.

“Uh, hi there, girls. What’s the–hey!” He broke off as they suddenly grabbed hold of him, each girl taking an arm and yanking in a different direction.

“I saw him first!” One yelled at the other. “Let go, you turd!”

“No way! I saw him first!” The second responded, pulling hard on Nate’s wrist. He stood there speechless as the two girls continued to play tug-of-war with his body.

“Bitch!” The first one screamed.

“Whore!” The second replied.

“Ok, enough!” He wrenched himself free and grabbed his bike, seeing that a small crowd had gathered in front of the store to watch the spectacle. Most were women, and they all seemed to have a distracted, flushed look on their faces that he wasn’t sure he liked. He hopped on his bike and started to pedal, noting with some dismay that the women were following him. He went faster. They started to run. Nate pounded the pedals for all he was worth, wishing that tricky demon bitch Maxine would appear in front of him so he could run her over.

Just when he seemed to be in the clear he was blindsided by a red-haired college girl who jumped on his back, hooked her arm around his neck and began kissing violently at his ear. Nate swerved, lost control, and hit the curb, tumbling onto the grass in front of the McDonald’s with the girl on top of him. She pinned his shoulders and kissed him on the mouth so hard that he tasted blood. Then the other women arrived, and the redhead was knocked aside as they rushed in and practically smothered him in a frenzy of arms, hair, lips, and cleavage.

Nate might have enjoyed it if he hadn’t been busy fighting for his life. They were coming at him from all sides and now there were at least twenty women crowding around, squabbling over him like he was the last Xbox on Black Friday. A plump hairdresser sat on him only to be pushed over by a gray-haired lady who looked old enough to be Nate’s grandmother. He felt his shirt ripping, his shorts being tugged at as hands groped wildly at his chest, ass, and crotch. Someone got hold of his nuts and squeezed, sending a dull shock of agony blasting through his body.

“Help!” He screamed, curling up into a fetal position. “They’re killing me!”

He saw that some of the nearby men were beginning to pull the women back, then for a minute he couldn’t see anything as a well-endowed MILF tore open her shirt and buried his face in twin mountains of warm tit flesh. It was rather enjoyable until he realized that he couldn’t breathe. He pushed and flailed until someone pulled her away, and seeing a clear path to his bike, he crawled toward it gasping for air and praying that some large woman wouldn’t jump on him and break his spine.

Then there was the sudden whoop of a siren, and to Nate’s immense relief a police car nosed in against the curb just a few feet away. His relief faded as he saw a stocky, tomboyishly attractive female cop get out and step toward him, a dazed, heated look appearing on her face as she reached for her belt and whirled to face the approaching crowd.

“Back off, you crazy cunts!” She yelled. “He’s mine!” She then proceeded to unleash a torrent of pepper spray into the faces of a dozen women as she yanked Nate up by his collar, tearing it even further. Then as the women fell back shrieking, the lady cop slammed him back against the door of her car, caught him around the waist and kissed him, dipping him back in her arms like that photo of people making out at the end of World War II.

I gotta get the fuck outta here, Nate thought distractedly as the policewoman’s tongue forced itself into his mouth. This shit is crazy. Hot, he added as he sucked tentatively at the cop’s tender lips, but crazy.

He was rescued by the redheaded girl who tackled the cop to the ground and started biting her on the leg. Putting on a burst of speed, Nate evaded their clutching hands and scrambled towards his bike, faked out a Girl Scout and finally managed to grab the handlebars. After a running start he hopped on and pedaled like mad down a side street, his body feeling bruised and violated.

“Irresistible, huh?” He muttered. “Well fuck you, Maxine. Fuck you right in the ass.”

Nate hooked left down an alley then turned right again, allowing himself to relax a little as he looked back and saw that no one was following. He looked ahead just in time to see the bumper of a minivan clip his front wheel as it backed out of a hidden driveway. Once again he went tumbling, this time right into the side of the van, banging against it with his shoulder and elbow as it jerked to a halt.

“Oww fuck!” He yelled, more surprised than hurt.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” A petite soccer mom jumped out of the driver’s side door, her look of concern immediately changing to one of dazed lust. At the same moment no less than five teenage girls poked their heads out of the van’s windows and gave a collective sigh of longing as Nate quickly picked himself up, grabbed his bike, and ran. The front wheel was busted and wouldn’t turn, so he tossed his bike into the bushes and took off down someone’s side yard. He jumped a hedge, scaled a fence, then took refuge in a shed two houses away.

He sat wheezing in a shadowy corner, trying to recover his breath and figure a way out of this mess. Luckily, it would be dark soon and he was only a few blocks from his house. If he could make it home he should be safe, at least for a while.

After a short rest, Nate left the shed, climbed over a brick wall, and landed beside a pool, thinking it best if he stayed off the street. He was halfway through the yard when he noticed a woman sitting on the patio with a drink in her hand, watching him. They locked eyes and she smiled brightly. Nervous, Nate returned the smile, wondering if and when she was going to attack. The thought of it wasn’t so terrible, actually. She looked thirty-ish and was tan and pretty, with curly light brown hair and a well-curved body just barely covered in white shorts and a bikini top.

“Come on over, hon,” she said in a soft southern accent. “Ah won’t bite.”

Nate hesitated for a moment then obeyed. His fear gave way to a different sort of anxiety as she reached out and took his hands, pulling him in toward her until his knees bumped against the front of her chair.

“Well, well. What’s a nice boy like you doin’ in my back yard?” The woman said, looking up at him with her face flushed and eyes sparkling.

“Um, I…” He forgot whatever he’d been about to say as she slowly ran her hand over his groin, her touch sending a surge of nervous excitement through his dick and outward through the rest of his body.

“Aww. You brought me a present,” she drawled, grinning and rubbing his cock through his shorts. “How thoughtful.”

Now this was more like it. Nate held still as the woman unbuttoned his shorts and tugged them down, his erection popping out only to be immediately caught in her warm, wet mouth. He watched in giddy disbelief as she swallowed his dick all the way to the root then began to bob her head, sucking rhythmically on his virgin cock.

Nate stood trembling in the deepening twilight, his breath coming in hot gasps as he experienced his first blowjob. The feeling was indescribable. It drove all coherent thought from his brain to leave only the hot, liquid sensation of her mouth on his eagerly straining flesh. The feeling quickly intensified into an urgent tingle, growing and growing until he realized that he was about to nut.

Suddenly, a light flicked on and there was the bang of a screen door. “Hey babe, I got the Merlot–”

Nate glanced over to see a man standing on the opposite end of the patio with two wineglasses in his hands and an expression of utter shock on his face. The woman paused in mid-suck to look at him, the side of her mouth and cheek bulging outward with Nate’s cock. For a second no one moved, then the woman turned her attention back to Nate and casually swallowed him all the way down to the base again, her tongue sliding out to lick the top of his nutsack in an impressive show of oral talent.

That did it. Forgetting the presence of her boyfriend or husband or whatever, Nate gave a feeble groan and began to ejaculate furiously into the woman’s sucking mouth. She held him by the waist to steady him as she continued to work his spurting dick with her talented lips and tongue. Nate moaned and shivered, lost in a world of pulsing carnal bliss that was far better than anything he’d ever imagined.

Then like a needle scratching across a record, the bliss abruptly ended.

“Son of a bitch!” The man snarled and leaped toward him. Nate backed away, his still-throbbing penis slipping reluctantly out of the woman’s mouth as he hitched up his shorts and ran. He made it over the fence and kept running until he was several blocks away, finally taking cover behind a thick hedge in someone else’s yard.

He lay sprawled out on the grass, panting and grinning like a loon. Against all odds he’d finally gotten his dick sucked, and by a hot older woman no less. It was starting to look like this deal might be worth it after all.

Nate rested there for a while in the shadows, thinking he’d wait until it was fully dark before heading home. A quick shower and some band-aids and he’d be good to go. Then maybe he would track down some of the girls he liked and see how they reacted to the new and improved Nate Stevens.

Naturally, hot and stuck-up Claire was at the top of the list. He grinned broadly as he started to imagine her as his willing sex slave. Oh, the possibilities…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of quiet voices coming from behind him. The beam of a flashlight suddenly blazed into his eyes, and, half-blinded, he was just able to make out the shapes of several pale figures standing on the lawn.

“I told ya somebody was in the yard,” a female voice said.

“Whaddya think we should do with him?” Another asked.

“Or do to him?” Yet another said, giggling.

“Hey, just a minute!” Nate protested as he rose to his feet. Before he could do anything else, someone yelled ‘get him!’ and he was being jumped by four late teen or twentyish girls, his arms taken and held securely while a pillowcase was yanked down over his head. His feet were grabbed next, and then he was being half-carried, half-dragged over the grass while the girls whispered and giggled around him.

Looks like I’m about to get gangbanged, he thought, not quite sure how to feel about it. At least they weren’t fighting over him like the other women had.

Nate offered little resistance as the girls took him up the steps and into their house. The enticing scents of perfume, popcorn, and cookies greeted him as he was brought in and dropped unceremoniously onto a rug. Then, still blinded by the pillowcase, he was turned onto his back with the girls each securing one of his arms or legs and pinning him firmly to the floor. One went so far as to sit on his left hand, the heavy warmth of her butt feeling nice against his palm. He gave her ass a squeeze and was answered with a squeal and a wiggle.

An unseen radio was belting out Katy Perry’s latest slut anthem as the girls debated what to do. There was a lot of heated whispering that was difficult to follow, but he could tell that he was at the forefront of the discussion.

“Well, its Leslie’s birthday,” someone commented aloud. “Let her decide.”

“That’s right, it’s my birthday,” the girl who must have been Leslie said, sounding excited. “I say we have some fun with him.” There were murmurs of agreement and Nate’s heart began to pound wildly.

“Remember, we all gotta share.” One reminded.

“Right. But the birthday girl goes first.” Another said. “Go get him, Leslie!”

His left leg was released as someone–Leslie apparently–moved up and tugged the pillowcase away from his head. He blinked against the sudden light, his eyes focusing to reveal a brown-haired young woman leaning over him with an eager smile on her face. She was cute, with green eyes, freckles, and a slightly upturned nose. Nate guessed that she was somewhere around his age, a guess that was quickly confirmed when he spotted the shiny balloons in the corner that spelled out “Happy 18th!” On a nearby table there was also a half-eaten cake and something that looked suspiciously like a keg of beer.

He had only a moment to take this in before her long dark hair was brushing his cheek and she was leaning down, her warm, slightly sticky lips sealing over his in a passionate kiss. Nate kissed back, thinking she tasted like strawberry Chapstick and something salty-sweet, like kettle corn. Besides the quick smooches with Maxine and the female cop, it was his first real honest-to-God kiss, and he found he that he was liking it. A lot.

There was a chorus of giggling and a friendly pat on the front of his shorts made him realize that his dick was rock hard and sticking up like a tent-pole. He couldn’t see who was touching his cock, but now both girls that had been holding his arms were sitting on his hands instead, giving him a good feel of ass cheek with his left hand and what was very possibly a handful of warm crotch in his right. His face grew hot but he stayed the course, giving the girls on his hands a series of firm squeezes as the kiss became deeper and hotter, with Leslie sucking eagerly on his tongue as soon as he offered it.

Someone touched his straining cock again, giving it a slow, gliding caress that moved down along the cloth-covered shaft to stop with a light squeeze on his balls. Nate lay in a daze as the girl to his right started to rub his hand against the front of her jeans. He was being kissed, fondled, and generally molested by four complete strangers, and that was something with which he was very much okay.

Leslie moved her body against him as they kissed, her butt grinding on his lower stomach in a way that had him instinctively humping back up at her. She wasn’t quite close enough for his cock to rub her ass, but he felt a helping hand quickly enclose his dick as his unseen fourth assailant began to tug on it through his shorts. At almost the same instant, both girls on his hands got up, and Nate watched out of the corner of his eye as the one on the right–a skinny, nerdy blonde–wriggled out of her pants and dropped them to the floor. He caught a glimpse of trimmed dark blonde bush as the girl kicked off her panties and sat down again, straddling his hand and lifting it up between her legs to press it firmly against warm, moist flesh.

Nate’s fingers trembled as he explored his first real live pussy. He felt the soft, short fuzz and tender slit, his middle finger almost being sucked inside as it slid down along the slippery crevice and into her hole. The girl’s pussy was tight and hot and seemed to cling to his finger as he slowly moved it in and out. The chubby, older looking brunette on his left had also stripped out of her pants and crouched down, holding his wrist as she humped her bare snatch against his hand. He examined her plump, slippery cunt lips with his fingers, amazed at how smooth and delicate they felt.

Meanwhile the birthday girl was covering his mouth with soft, sucking kisses that made him even more lightheaded than he already was. He was dimly aware that the fourth girl seemed to be unzipping his fly. Nate pushed two fingers into the chubby brunette’s muff and began to probe her slick tunnel, wondering if it was possible for an eighteen-year-old to have a heart attack. His pulse was racing, his chest burned, his limbs were shaky, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

Then Leslie abruptly broke their kiss and climbed up over him. She hiked up her skirt, clamped her thighs on either side of his head and proceeded to sit on his face, smothering him with her hot, musty crotch. He licked hesitantly at the front of her panties, distracted by the sensation of a hand pulling his dick free from his shorts. There was the weight of a body settling on his lap, and a sudden warm, engulfing tightness sank down around his cock, slipping wetly down over his shaft until he felt the unseen girl’s bare thighs pressing against his hips and realized that she’d sat on his dick and taken him balls-deep into her pussy.

Holy fuck, it felt good. He gave a shuddering groan and his hips jerked upward, pushing in even deeper as the girl held still on top of him, her tight little snatch hugging his cock as he humped himself up at her with absolutely no rhythm or control. At this point he wasn’t too surprised when Leslie stood and dropped her panties. She nearly kicked him in the head as she stepped out of them and sat back down, mashing the steamy lips of her bare teenage cunt against his mouth. The musky, slightly metallic taste and smell of her thrilled him as he buried his tongue in her fleshy folds, and he gave a muffled groan as the unknown girl on his lap began to bounce on his cock, her clingy pussy sliding up and down the length of his rigid shaft.

Gone were the giggles and whispers. The only sound was that of the music and the occasional quiet gasp or groan. The girls were so magically horny for him that all they seemed to care about was touching and humping him, even to the point of neglecting that basic tenet of Health class, the condom. Not that he was complaining.