The Blind Date Blues

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Chapter Two

When Sam was finally able to breathe again, and George had mopped up all his spooge with an old rag he found under the blanket they'd been lying on, and pulled his pants back up, and after Sam had put her bra back on and snapped her pants, the older siblings turned their now considerable wrath on their younger brother and sister.

"You guys are in SO much trouble!" yelled George. "See what you did to Sam? You almost KILLED her!"

"My throat hurts," complained Sam, still coughing a little from time to time. She looked at her brother. "You're going to PAY for that!" she snarled.

Phillip was quick on his feet. He looked at Amy, who, if she wasn't his new best buddy after seeing what they had just seen, was his confederate at a minimum.

"Amy, do you think your parents are going to like this story as much as MY parents are? I just KNOW that my parents are going to LOVE hearing about THIS!"

Amy caught on quickly and laughed. "Oh yes, I know my mother especially will just be RIVETED when I tell her about this." She turned to her brother. "Can we go home now George? There's something I want to talk to mother about."

"OK, OK" George held his hands up. "We get the message. But one word of this to ANYONE and you're both DEAD! You got that?"

"Hey" said Phillip. "Different strokes for different folks. That's my motto. If Sam likes snorting..."

George started toward Phillip with an angry look on his face, but Samantha pulled him back.

"I mean if you guys are happy then who are we to complain about it?" finished her little brother.

Amy giggled.

"What's so funny?" asked George, trying to get the blanket folded back up and the car restored to its former non-bed configuration.

Amy was thinking about those twin streams of cum flowing out of Sam's nostrils and the look on Sam's face when she realized another girl was seeing it. "Nothing. It's just something Phillip told me when we were on the swings."

"So you guys are OK with this double dating thing?" asked George.

"Yeah, sure" quipped Amy.

Phillip felt a decidedly nice warm feeling in the vicinity of his balls at the sound of her voice when she said that. Things had sure changed since about six o'clock.

Both mothers expressed great interest over how the first 'double date' had gone. Both Phillip and Amy had made so much fuss about it BEFORE the date that they felt compelled to maintain the same attitude AFTER the date, knowing that it wouldn't matter. Sam and George also complained about being 'stuck' with little brothers and sisters, and about how embarrassing it was when their friends saw them.

Both mothers smiled and called each other with congratulations over how clever they had been. They thought their plan was working fabulously. Maybe because of that, or perhaps because of the machinations of Fate, it didn't occur to either of them to actually TELL Phillip or Amy that they were along to PREVENT sexual play from happening.

Regardless of how well 'Operation Chaperone' was working, George and Sam were still only allowed to go 'out' on one date a week. They could get together at each other's houses every day if they wanted, but neither set of parents wanted them getting used to the idea of being off for hours and hours, in the dark, doing who knows what, even if they WERE chaperoned by their siblings.

So Phillip had had a whole week to think about Amy, and about how she wasn't so bad once she got over that 'popular' girl attitude and was just herself.

And Fate, having a finely tuned sense of humor, almost laughed out loud as Phillip stood in front of a mirror and flexed his muscles, trying to look more like a jock, and then put on after shave, even though he had shaved just last week, and probably wouldn't need to shave again until next month.

As for Amy, she reflected more and more on Phillip that week, and how different he was from most boys she knew. Maybe this play and musical thing had something to offer after all, if it could make her feel all squishy inside, like the romance novels she liked to sneak into her bedroom did. And Phillip wasn't a jerk like a lot of the popular boys. He didn't leer at her and ask her how her tits were growing and other crude things like that.

And so Fate chuckled as Amy put on some perfume, and decided to wear a halter top with her terrycloth short shorts on this date.

And, if Fate had a dick, (which he certainly could, couldn't he?) he would have stroked it a few times as Sam practiced all week long, with a peeled banana, tickling that special spot in the back of her throat and cumming a total of seventeen times as she learned how not to choke on it.

And if Fate had balls, they'd have been as blue as George's were, because George didn't beat off all week long, wanting to save up as much spunk as he possibly could in case Samantha was willing to take his cock into her mouth again. It was hard not to spank that particular monkey. He remembered the feeling of all that sperm rushing through his prick. And... he remembered twin streams of that sperm running from his girlfriend's nostrils as she gulped the rest. Well, tried to gulp, anyway.

On what was Phillip and Amy's second date, George took them to the county park, at the lake. He had thought this was a great idea because he remembered his little sister saying they had been on the swings at the drive-in. And there was a playground at the county park too. George didn't quite get that his sister was old enough to get pregnant and have babies and never blink an eye about it. He didn't think about her that way, though, so the thought of her on playground equipment fit better with his conception of her. And if she and Phillip were off seesawing, or sliding on slides, then he and Sam could be alone.

There were also all kinds of nice, dark, quiet hiding places at the lake, where a blanket could be spread out and nobody would hit their head on the roof of the station wagon.

It was summer, and the date started out late. That's because George wanted the cover of darkness for his and Sam's activities, and because there would be fewer people at the park after it got dark. So, when they started out, he didn't see his sister reach over and put her hand on top of Phillip's hand. And, truthfully, he probably wouldn't have recognized the importance of that little thing.

But Phillip did.

He had noticed the halter top too as she got into the car, because she bent over as she got in, and he was treated to a spectacular view of the deepest, softest looking cleavage he'd ever had the opportunity to notice. At least cleavage that wasn't in a magazine.

She had also smiled at him.

Most fifteen year old boys have a little trigger inside them. It's a genetic thing and they share that gene with the Venus Fly Trap. That's that plant that eats bugs, and it catches them by snapping (what looks like) two leaves closed in something like one one tenth of a second.

Except in fifteen year old boys, this gene triggers... and PRODUCES an erection in about the same amount of time.

What triggers the Venus Fly Trap is when tiny little trigger hairs are disturbed by the touch of the prey.

What triggers the fifteen year old male erection is the touch of the prey on his hand, or leg, or cheek or just about any place on the body. All those tiny hairs on a boy's body... are actually trigger hairs. Science hasn't proved all this yet, but take it from me... that's the way it is.

But I digress. The point of all those words was to explain why, on only his second date with the girl, a girl he didn't even like on the first date, Phillip's fifteen year old penis bloomed to life when Amy touched his... trigger hairs.

And there wasn't anything he could do about it. He couldn't adjust it, because her hand was only four inches away from it. He couldn't cover it up with his other hand, because all that would do was draw attention to it. So he took the high road of ignoring it, as if it didn't exist.

But it did exist and Amy saw it. It had tented up the fabric of his pants in such a way as to be too obvious to miss.

Her reaction had several components.

First she was all too aware of what she had shown him when she got in. Girls may act like they don't know they're showing skin, but they know. Believe me. Next she felt anger, anger that this boy turned out to be just like all the others. But that flashed by so quickly that she didn't even act on her impulse to jerk her hand away from his.

And that's because it was replaced with curiosity about why HE wasn't reacting to it. Some guys liked to shove their hips forward and emphasize it. Others she'd been out with would have already dragged her hand over to it, saying something like "I got somethin' for you, baby." The fact that he was looking out the window as if his pants weren't threatening to burst open fascinated her.

And then a fourth process entered her head by way of her loins as she reacted to the obvious evidence that he found her attractive and that he WASN'T a jerk who made it obvious. Well it WAS obvious, but he wasn't drawing attention to it.

The fourth process was closely related to the first - that of showing a boy what he can't have, but what you want him to know is there. Not only are girls acutely aware of what they're showing, they show it on purpose. That's a biological thing. They want a reaction to it. That's also a biological thing. The fact that they're often not happy with the reaction is more a cultural thing. The two forces work to oppose each other. Why culture has worked so hard to overcome biology is beyond me, but knowing all this helps us understand why Amy was having a moment of conflict. In this particular case, biology won out, in the sense that her cultural objection to his response was suppressed because of her THIRD reaction. It's all very complicated, which is why attraction to the opposite sex, and love, are such a pain in the ass.

She squeezed his hand. Then, since he was ignoring the tent in his pants, she did too.

The two younger kids didn't mind at all going to the lake, though Amy did have one complaint.

"If you'd have told us we could have worn swimming suits." she groused.

Sam turned her head and spoke to Amy in the back seat. "You mean you'd actually SWIM in that icky water?"

"Well sure, I've done it lots of times." responded Amy.

"It looks so... dirty!" said Samantha with a sour face.

Amy thought back to seeing the same girl, who was currently shuddering about perfectly good lake water, and remembered Sam with sperm dripping from her nose and mouth, and the way that sperm got all over the place, and Amy snorted.

Then, that picture in her mind caused her stomach to flutter. The fact was, she'd thought about that scene quite a bit over the last week. One part of her thought it was just AWFUL, almost perverted even... except that some of Amy's friends claimed to have done the same thing... so maybe it wasn't so perverted. It always made her pussy get damp though, when she thought about it, and that puzzled her. She tried NOT to think about it because it made her feel all confused.

Phillip chimed in about then. "Yeah, there's a GREAT rope swing that hangs way out over the water, and you can swing way out and drop off and it's fun."

George said "Well, you two can go swimming all you want, but don't hang around and bother us. We'll be busy."

"I bet you will," said Amy under her breath.

Phillip leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder, and Sam turned around to stare into the back seat.

When they got to the lake, George drove as far into the park as he could and pulled the car into a round gravel parking lot. He turned off the engine but turned the key to the accessory position so the radio stayed on.

George got out and gathered up the two blankets he'd brought along.

"You two can stay here, or whatever. Sam and I are going to go commune with nature, so don't bother us. And, if either of you gets the stupid idea to sneak up on us and yell, I want you to know you'll both be walking home." George tried to sound as mean as he could.

It wasn't easy because one of the memories he would cherish in his heart forever, and which would still be trying to pump life into his shriveled dick when he was ninety-eight and in a rest home, was the memory of Sam with his spunk running out of her nose. Even now, just thinking about it, he got hard as a rock.

And it would never have happened if his little sister and her date hadn't had the idea to sneak up on them.

George grabbed Sam's hand and pulled her toward a lane between two big fir trees. It was dark back there, and he was starting to leak already.

Phillip and Amy stood, looking at each other. Rock and roll was playing on the radio and Wolfman Jack was rasping in-between songs.

Amy said "Hey, you said you didn't know how to dance."

Phillip shrugged. "I can waltz, but that's about it."

"Surely you can do the twist. ANYBODY can do the twist." she chided.

"I've seen it, but I've never actually tried it," he said. This wasn't heading in a direction he was too excited about.

"Well, how 'bout I teach you some dances. Come on, it'll be fun!"

Suddenly she was the perky pep club girl, not quite a cheerleader, but one of that crowd that wore their boyfriend's letter jacket and saddle oxfords and poodle skirts with petticoats. They jumped all around the place and knew all the cheers by heart and jumped up and down and clapped their hands and were generally a pain in the ass because they wanted EVERYBODY else to do exactly the same thing.

Phillip shied away, his hands up, not wanting anything to do with this, but she reached out and grabbed his wrist in a grip much more firm than any girl should have and pulled him to the side of the car, where the window was down and they could hear the music better.

Then she let go and began to do the Twist.

Good old Chubby Checkers. What he came up with made girls wiggle their hips and shake their breasts, and everyone called it good, clean fun.

Phillip stood there and watched her breasts wiggle and shake in her halter top. And, as she turned in a slow circle, he watched her buttocks shake and jiggle in her clinging shorts. When she had turned in a complete circle, what his lust-blinded eyes saw was a girl, holding her arms out to him, shaking her sexy body at him.

Phillip suddenly wanted very badly to learn to dance.

She laughed as he slowly started to twist his body in a poor imitation of hers, but it was a joyful laugh, and not one that hurt. Just as he thought he had the idea, the song stopped and Wolfman Jack howled across the airwaves. Then another song started and she tried to teach him something she called the Watusi. After that she wanted to teach him the Boogaloo and then the Shimmy. He loved the shimmy and it showed in the front of his pants as she shook her breasts at him. They were panting now, and sweating in the late evening heat as she moved on to the Trog, and then the Cool Jerk.

She liked that, because that interesting lump in the front of his pants jerked up and down as he mimicked her actions.

As Wolfman Jack filled the night air with rock and roll, the two continued their modern day practice of a combination of bits and pieces of mating dances that were literally thousands of years old.

As they entered the darkness behind the fir trees, Sam dug in her heels and said "Don't go so fast. We have all night."

He whirled and took her into an embrace, kissing her hard. "I'm sorry, I just can't wait to be with you."

She grinned in the dark, but he couldn't see it. "You mean you can't wait to try to get me naked."

He moaned, his hormones racing through his bloodstream. "Come on, don't tease me." he pleaded.

"I've been practicing," she said as she kissed him back.

"What do you mean?"

"I can get it all the way down my throat now, and I won't choke."

He stopped still. "Who have you been practicing WITH?" his voice rose at the end.

"I used a banana, silly. You're the only boy I've ever done that to."

It took George only forty-two seconds to put down the blankets and strip naked in the darkness.

Phillip and Amy leaned against the side of the car, gasping for air. They had been dancing nonstop now for almost an hour. What Phillip didn't have in style, he made up for with effort. Amy's heart was bursting with pride at the way he tried over and over again to do the motions of the dances just like she showed him. He really CARED what she thought and that made her heart soar.

Now, during a string of commercials they rested. Amy pulled the front of her halter top away from her sweaty breasts and fanned down into the gap. Phillip happened to be looking her way and his mouth hung open as he could see the entire swell of one breast, disappearing into the darkness of the halter top.

Amy looked up and saw where he was looking. "You're looking at my BREASTS!" she said in mock anger. By now her opinion of Phillip had reversed itself from her original one.

Phillip, instead of trying to deny it, decided to be brazen about it. "Of COURSE I am. I'm a boy, right? I'm normal, right? You have beautiful breasts, right? Of COURSE I'm looking at them!"

He hadn't meant to say "breasts", but when he realized he was about to say the word "tits" his mind rebelled and the word breasts came out instead. His mother had taught him to use the right words for things. But NO fifteen year old boy says the word "breasts" in front of a fifteen year old girl, especially if he likes her. So in Phillip's mind he was screaming "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID" at himself.

From Amy's point of view, however, "breasts" wasn't a bad word at all. She used it all the time. She had them. All girls had them. None of the girls could figure out what the big deal was and why boys went so cockeyed over them. But what made the difference to HER was that he DIDN'T say "tits." "Tits" were on a cow, or a dog, or something, but NICE girls didn't have "tits". Nice girls had breasts. She completely missed the irony of the fact that, because this boy was staring at her breasts, they were tingling, especially around the nipples. But his brazenness caused her to unlock her own Pandora's Box as she said "Well, at least you're a gentleman about it. And you tried very hard to learn the dances I showed you. So I suppose you deserve a reward. I suppose you're allowed to look."

Suddenly shy, Phillip said "Thanks, but I won't look too much."

Men have been trying to figure out women for thousands of years. Before then they just grabbed them by the hair and fucked them. But, at some point, some woman did something and some guy thought "I wonder why she does that?"

And the male gender was shot to shit, right then and there. Because from then on, man started trying to talk women into having sex, instead of just taking it. Or at least he wanted the woman to want it too.

Calm down ladies. I'm fully aware that this particular change on the part of man was a big hit with the... ladies... back then, and since.

Anyway, with all the books that have been written, and all the philosophy that has been discussed, men still haven't figured out why women do the things they do and feel the things they feel. I'm not even sure WOMEN understand it.

But along with other strange entries in the annals of "The Mysteries of Getting Sex", Phillip's simple statement: "I won't look too much." ended up being the prime mover to Phillip Robbins getting laid for his very first time. He didn't know it when he said it, and neither really did Amy, but that statement tipped the scales that caused Fate to howl at the moon and jack even harder on his cock.

Out of the blue Amy said "My goodness it's so hot. It's positively SWELTERING!"

Phillip, who had heard that word used by his mother, but wasn't sure what it actually meant, knew the safest thing to do when a girl says almost anything is to agree with her, said "Yup. Must have been all that dancing."

Amy looked up at the moon. She was still holding her top away from her breasts, moving it toward and then away from her chest to suck in fresh air and expel hot air. "I bet that lake water would feel real cool right now."

Phillip, not cognizant of the fact that he was slated to get laid, said "Yeah, it's too bad we don't have suits."

Amy almost stamped her foot with frustration. When would this sweet boy get the hint? She was a good girl. She couldn't just come out and suggest that they skinny dip.

"It IS quite dark," she suggested.

Phillip looked up at the full moon, which was casting enough light that he could see the beads of sweat on Amy's face. He was about to say "Not that dark." when something in her tone finally drilled through the bone in his head and hit brain. Why would she say it was dark when it clearly wasn't REALLY dark?

He got close to the mark. "Well, if you wanted to go in and cool off, I'd stand guard or something."

Fate felt a drip of precum ooze out of the tip of his prick. He bared his teeth in a feral grin.

"Oh, I couldn't go in alone!" she said. "That wouldn't be safe." She dipped her head and let herself blush like she'd practiced in front of the mirror for hours. It was really too bad it was too dark for Phillip to be able to see it.

When Phillip didn't offer, Amy almost gave up. But she gave it one last try. "I mean I'd feel safe if somebody was there WITH me... in the water... you know, who could help me if I needed help."

At last the drill in Phillip's brain hit intelligence. His eyes widened as he fully realized that the only way this girl would go in the water was naked, and, though he had never actually used it before, a genetic male trait came to the surface. This is the gene that tells a man's brain "You have a chance here... DON'T fuck it up."

Phillip said. "Well, I guess I could swim too... you know, just to kind of watch over you... I mean I wouldn't LOOK or anything, but I'd be there... in case you needed... something."

Amy felt an actual rush of relief and joy and sexual energy flow through her as her automatic fear of rejection was told to go back in the closet. "Oh Phillip! Would you REALLY? You'd do that for ME?"

It was at that precise moment that Phillip realized there was the distinct chance that something extremely nice might happen that night. Even HE knew she was laying it on pretty thick.

"Sure," he said, not knowing what else to say.

Amy set the hook. "Of course I don't want to get my clothes all wet. What do you think we should do?" Good girls did not suggest that swimming naked was an option.

Phillip swallowed it. "I guess we could skinny dip. I mean our clothes would stay dry and all."

"Oh! Well, I suppose if we must..." chirped Amy, and she reached for the button behind her neck.

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