Under Mr. Nolan’s Bed

CHAPTER ONE

I’d seen a few Playboys and Hustlers and stuff like that—but I’d never seen anything like what Erica showed me in a box under her father’s bed. It was really hardcore stuff, and it showed everything, all the minute details of flesh, up close and personal. I found myself utterly enthralled, in spite of my embarrassment with Erica right there. I couldn’t seem to help my body’s response.

We sat on the floor in silence, sifting through the slick, glossy pile of pages, flipping through each of them on our own, our breathing becoming faster and more shallow in the silence. Once in a while, she would nudge me and show me something of interest, and I would do the same, when the picture we were staring at was so intense it absolutely required sharing.

And then he came home early, and we scrambled to shove everything back in and under before running back to her room. Breathless and flushed, we both jumped when he opened the door and asked if we wanted pizza.

“Can Leah stay?” Erica asked and he smiled—Mr. Nolan had the best smile—and looked over at me where I was lying on my belly on the floor, flipping through a Teen Beat and swinging my feet, still in the knee-high stockings that our Catholic school uniform required. I hated them-the whole outfit, really, the way it made me feel twelve instead of eighteen was just humiliating. I usually changed the minute I got home, but Erica had convinced me to come straight to her place.

Mr. Nolan met my eyes and winked. “Sure, as long as her mom says it’s okay.”

Not much problem there. My mom thought Mr. Nolan was the best-a widowed father, raising Erica all by himself, and Catholic, too! She always started conversations about him with, “If it weren’t for your father—” which I always cut off with a disgusted exclamation of, “Mom!” Little did she know about all the ungodly pornography residing under his bed. Of course, until today, I hadn’t known either. I found myself looking at the crotch of his trousers and wondered what he looked like when he jerked off to all the pictures in those magazines. The thought made my body respond immediately-my pussy, already wet from looking at all those pictures, pulsed between my thighs.

Mom said I could stay for pizza, and when Erica asked Mr. Nolan if I could sleep over because we had to work on our senior group project, he readily agreed. Of course it was just an excuse, and we were up until well after midnight, doing more giggling than working. I still couldn’t believe some of the images I had seen that afternoon. They were burned into my memory and I’d thought of little else since.

“So how long have you known about your dad’s collection?” I pulled one of Erica’s t-shirts over my head to sleep in as we were getting ready for bed.

She grinned at me, rolling over onto her belly on the bed. “A long time.” I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yup.” Waggling her eyebrows, she shoved her books off the end of her bed and yawned.

“Doesn’t it make you…?”

“Horny as hell?” she laughed. “Yeah. Duh! I usually take my vibrator with me… either that, or call Bobby afterward so he can come over and go down on me.”

I stared at her. “So tell me the truth, then… have you and Bobby…you know…”

“No!” She made a face. “I’m still a virgin. Sheesh.” I slipped into the sleeping bag that Mr. Nolan had retrieved for me out of the hall closet, trying to reconcile Erica’s belief that she was still a virgin with the fact that she and Bobby had clearly done far more than just kiss, which was, admittedly, about all that I had done. I just lived vicariously through Erica.

She turned off the light. “So which one was your favorite?” The darkness made me feel bolder. “There was that one I showed you with the two girls and the one guy…”

“Ohhh yeah,” she murmured. “Where he’s on his back, licking one of them, and the other one is riding his cock?”

I flushed, even in the darkness, hearing her say the words. “Yeah…”

“I like the ones with two guys and a girl, too,” she said. “Seeing her suck on a guy while she’s getting fucked… I’d love to know what that’s like.” I bit my lip, slipping my hand down over my panties in the darkness and cupping my mound. My pussy was aching, and it felt better when I touched it.

“I love seeing a girl get licked,” she went on, her voice lower. “It just makes me remember… god, it feels soooo good…”

“Does it?” The crotch of my panties was damp and I rubbed my finger over my clit through the material, teasing. I couldn’t imagine a soft, warm tongue between my legs. The thought both stunned and intrigued me.

“Oh my god, Leah,” she purred. “You have no idea. I wish I had Bobby’s tongue right now… right here on my clit…”

My breath caught, and in the darkness I could hear a faint wet sound. “Are you… Erica, are you…?”

“Go ahead,” she whispered, and I heard that little wet sound speeding up.

“You know you want to.”

I did want to. Encouraged by the darkness, I slipped my hand under the elastic band of my panties, past the soft, dark hair, seeking the moist heat between my lips. Everything there was swollen and slick and my fingers moved easily, making the same faint, wet sound that I could hear coming from Erica’s bed.

“Mmmmm yeah,” she whispered. “God that’s good… lick my pussy, baby.” I knew she was imagining it, and I imagined it, too, remembering the pictures-a blonde girl spreading herself open wide, his tongue poised right at her clit. Would it feel as good as my fingers? I wondered, as I rubbed myself in little circles. My nipples grew hard under the t-shirt, and the sleeping bag soon became too warm.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” Erica asked, and I made a little noise, not answering her, but pulling the sleeping bag down a little, all flushed and hot.

“Doesn’t it make you want a big, hard cock right now? Ohhh I want to know what it feels like to be fucked…”

I moaned softly, hearing the wet noises grow louder from Erica’s bed, and I couldn’t help sliding my hand up under my t-shirt to play with my nipples. The sensation went straight down between my legs, moving my fingers faster over the hard bud of my clit.

“Ohhhh yeah, fuck me hard,” she whispered, and all I could see when I closed my eyes was the close-up picture of a slick, fat cock poised at a soft, pink hole, waiting to be filled.

I slid my fingers down and plunged them into me, listening to Erica moaning on the bed and the soft squeak of the mattress and boxspring. My thighs were so taut they were trembling and I rocked in the darkness, my breath coming as fast as hers, my hand working hard between my legs, aching for release.

“Oh, oh, oh!” she cried, short little squeaks, and then a fast, whispered,

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

I heard her shuddering breath, the soft cries of her pleasure, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I came, too, my body quivering with my climax in the darkness.

We didn’t talk as our breathing began to return to normal and our hearts stopped beating a mile a minute. I felt embarrassed, and I wondered if she did, too. My trembling thighs finally relaxed. Eventually, I could hear that she was sleeping. Years of sleepovers made me familiar with the sound. Yet, I couldn’t seem to drift off, and instead I rolled around in the sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable on the floor.

Finally, I got up to go pee. The hall was dark, but I could see a faint light coming from underneath Erica’s dad’s door. The bathroom was next to his room and actually had two doors, one that you could access from the hallway, and another directly across that led to Mr. Nolan’s room. I guess it was the builder’s version of a semi-private bath.

I always felt funny peeing in that bathroom at night, knowing that Mr.

Nolan was right on the other side of the door, but I never locked them, because they were the push-button kind of locks that made so much noise when you pressed them. I never even turned on the light. I guess I hated the thought of waking him up more than I feared getting walked in on.

Although it looked like he was still up-there was a faint glow from under the bathroom door, and as I stood there listening, I heard soft noises. The TV, of course. He probably fell asleep with it on.

I lifted my t-shirt a little and pulled my panties down to my knees when I heard his voice, low but clear as could be: “Fuck her hard, yeahhhh!” My eyes wide, I turned back toward the door, where that light flickered underneath. Did he have someone in there? Then I remembered the television, and something Erica had mentioned this afternoon about his video collection. We hadn’t gotten into any of that before he came home, but I knew then that he must be watching something pornographic.

And masturbating. The thought made me tingle. My hand went to the bathroom doorknob, the silver handle cool against my flesh.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” he growled, making me press my ear to the doorjamb. I couldn’t see anything at all through the crack in the door, but I was desperate to see. “Fuck that hot little cunt!”

His words made my knees weak and my mouth dry. As carefully as I could, I began to turn the handle. I knew the layout of his room almost as well as I knew my own-Erica and I had been best friends since first grade and I’d spent countless hours at her house. I knew that directly on the other side of the door was a little alcove with a closet, and that the alcove opened up into the larger space of his room, where his bed was kitty-corner from the bathroom.

I could see him. The door slipped open almost soundlessly, the latch only making the barest scraping noise, the hinges not squeaking at all. I could see part of the bed, and across from that, the television sitting on the dresser. Mr. Nolan was facing away from me, stretched out naked. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his hand moving between his legs as he watched the scene on the television.

It was the television that drew my eyes first-two women, the dark-haired one on her back, the blonde between her legs with her fingers pistoning in and out of the other girl’s pussy as she licked her. The camera was close up, showing her pink wetness, completely smooth. I stared, my fingers brushing the softness between my legs, wondering what it would feel like without hair.

Then the camera panned back to reveal a man behind the blonde, his cock pounding into her from behind. He was gripping her hips, squeezing and pulling them as he fucked her, driving into her and making her moan against the other woman’s pussy. The sounds alone were enough to make me wet, if I hadn’t been already-the slick slap of their bodies, the moans of the women, the grunts of the guy behind them.

A sound from Mr. Nolan drew my attention to him again, and I saw that the hand between his legs had stopped, and he was squeezing his cock head hard in his fist. I bit my lip, watching him slowly pull the skin down tight as he moved his hand toward the base, staring at the length of him. He wasn’t as big as the guy on the screen-but almost! I was fascinated with the way he touched it, now pressing it up against his belly and rubbing it up toward his navel as he watched the threesome on the screen.

“Oooooh yeah,” he moaned, taking it into his fist again as, on the TV, the three of them were rearranging themselves, the blonde lying on the bed, and the dark-haired woman lying on top of her, both of them on their back. The guy knelt between their legs, fucking first the girl on top, then the girl on the bottom, switching back and forth. Mr. Nolan’s hand was pumping again, his hips bucking a little.

My fingers moved over the soft, wet hairs of my pussy, and in spite of the fact that I’d just recently had an orgasm, I started to rub my clit again, spreading my legs, my panties still caught at my knees as I pressed my eye to the crack in the door to see better. I’d forgotten all about having to pee-in fact, the pressure to go just increased the pleasure as I worked my clit in fast little circles.

The girls on the screen were kissing, their tongues meshing, as the guy between their legs fucked first one, then the other. Seeing his cock, so slick and wet as it came out, the head of it bright red as he slipped it up and down before sliding it back in again, was almost as good as watching Mr. Nolan’s hand shuttling up and down the length of his shaft. I couldn’t decide where to look, and my pussy was so wet I could feel it spreading to my thighs.

“Fuck me, fuck me!” the girls on screen begged. “No, me… me!” They were fighting over who got to feel his cock inside of them, and I wondered what it would be like to be fucked, to be pressed into, filled with that steady, rhythmic pounding of my flesh.

I looked at Mr. Nolan, who was pumping very fast now, the movement of his hand a flash up and down in the ghostly light from the TV. His soft moans sent shivers through me, making me rub my clit a little faster, matching his intensity. I couldn’t help pulling my t-shirt up over my breasts and pressing my nipples against the door.

“I’m gonna come!” It was the guy on screen, pulling his cock out of the blonde on the bottom and aiming it toward the dark-haired girl’s shaved pussy.

She was spreading it open for him as he began to come, grunting and moaning and shoving his hips forward as huge, white-hot jets of fluid began spilling onto her mound.

I almost groaned out loud when Mr. Nolan grabbed the remote next to him, hitting the rewind button-I wanted to see the rest! Back the tape went, back to when they all first started rearranging themselves again. My fingers were slick with my juices now, and I wanted to shove two of them inside me, but I was afraid he might hear the noise, even with the TV on, so I just focused on my clit, the hot, wet sensation between my legs growing with every moment.

Mr. Nolan’s hand was moving even faster, and I could hear his breath, the sound of it filling the room, panting with his effort. I looked from the screen to him and back again, the intensity of the experience pushing forward, upward, making me rub myself off even faster, my forehead pressed against the door frame, my nipples brushing there, too, hard and throbbing.

“Fuck, oh fuck, yeah, yeah,” he moaned, his hand a blinding streak up and down his cock, his hips bucking on the bed, and I could hear the bedsprings, just like I had with Erica. On the screen, the guy was pumping hard into the blonde, growling and bucking, too, and I heard him say it again like some hot, delicious deja-vu: “I’m gonna come!”

“Fuck yeah!” Mr. Nolan groaned, his hips really pressing up hard now, his hand pumping. My pussy was on fire, and my fingers were taking me with him, so close, my breath matching his. “I’m gonna come all over that pussy, baby!” It all happened at once-the guy coming on the screen again, the dark-haired girl spreading her smooth, shaved lips so he could aim his cock right there, right against her clit, shooting hot streams of white fluid onto her pussy.

There was so much of it, wave after wave, dribbling over her fingers spreading her open, down the pink folds of her flesh.

And Mr. Nolan was coming, too, his cock erupting over his hand again and again, a geyser of hot, white cum spilling down his fist and onto his belly. I couldn’t take it-my swollen clit was throbbing, aching for relief, and I came, too, watching him thrust and grunt and spill even more cum as it slid down the length of his shaft, my pussy contracting so hard I wanted to scream, but I had to bite my lip to keep from making any sound at all as I shuddered and bucked against the doorframe.

My ears were ringing and my breath was coming so fast I could barely control it. Mr. Nolan was rubbing his softening cock against his belly and on screen, the blonde had wiggled out from under and was licking the cum off the dark-haired girl’s pussy. Feeling guilty now, I shut the door as quietly as I could, making sure the latch didn’t make that tell-tale “click” as it closed.

I sat on the toilet, breathless, my panties still at my knees, and peed, releasing a torrent over my swollen, throbbing pussy, and that felt good, too. The glow from under the bathroom door was still there, but the sound was gone, and I knew he must have muted the TV. It was quiet in his room. Suddenly it occurred to me that he would probably be coming to the bathroom to clean up!

I quickly grabbed some toilet paper to wipe myself, half standing, reaching around to flush, when the door opened and he came in. We froze in the flickering blue glow of the television, both of us exposed. He was completely naked, and I might as well have been, with my panties down and my shirt pulled up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and I saw his eyes on me, moving over me. “I didn’t know you were in here!”

“I should have locked it,” I apologized to the closing door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nolan.”

He was quiet and I wondered if he knew, or suspected, that I had been standing there watching him. “It’s my fault, I should have knocked.” I flushed the toilet, quickly pulling my panties up and my t-shirt down and washing my hands fast at the sink before announcing, “I’m done!”

“Good night, Leah,” he said as I opened the other bathroom door and stepped into the hallway.

“Good night, Mr. Nolan.” I swallowed hard as I made my way back to Erica’s room.

She was still sleeping, her breathing deep and even. I pressed my hot, red face into the cool, forgiving material of my pillow. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered, and something in my belly tightened another notch. I heard the toilet flush and the sound of the bathroom door closing again and knew he was back in his room.

I felt so guilty, squeezing my thighs together and feeling that ache while I was thinking about my best friend’s dad. I couldn’t help it though, and I slid my hand down again, under my belly, cupping my swollen mound in the darkness and rocking, remembering. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I wondered if he was thinking about me, too.