CHAPTER 60

Megan's juices began to flow, starting to go down her legs as she thrust herself back onto me with as much force as I was using on her. For good measure, I gave her a single spank as I kept going, which caused her to groan in a mix of pain and pleasure.

On and on we went, losing track of time as Megan's ass became redder from the cold and occasional spank. Eventually I felt a stirring that became all-too-familiar with me in the past few months, and with one final slam, I let out a breathy groan as I emptied myself into Megan. She moaned at the feel of my seed entering her, and slowly shifted on me, attempting to milk me for all I was worth.

About a minute passed before she slowly removed me from her and started to put on her clothes again.

"You didn't get to cum, did you?" I bluntly asked.

She shook her head and smiled. "It's okay, though. As long as my boyfriend is happy, I'm happy." She smiled at me as she shook her shirt free of snow and pulled it over her head again. Startled by the sudden cold, she sat back down and pulled into me. I was already fully clothed, apparently having learned how to dress quickly through subconscious telepathy by Nicole.

Why was I thinking so much about Nicole? It never really occurred to me, and I started to think about it for the first time as Megan embraced me in an attempt to escape the cold. I kept comparing the things she did, how it felt around her, to Nicole. Was Paul right? Was I that hopeless without her? I guess it made sense. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Nothing would have made me happier at that moment to have her, the best friend I had made in high school… No, ever… To just message me now, asking to hang out. Nothing sexual, definitely nothing romantic, just… being around each other.

I turned back to Megan, who was just about surgically attached to my torso. At least I have her, I thought to myself. Though, that was little compensation, given the very shallow connection we had between us.

I actually had this odd gratefulness about me at that moment. I was strangely grateful that we weren't going to the party together.

***

"A party, huh?" Dad asked me at the dinner table.

I shrugged. "I figured there's a first time for everything." I turned to mom and winked. "And hey, it means I'll be going out and meeting new people."

Mom smiled hesitantly. "Sweetie, we're very proud of you, and the lengths you've gone to show us that you're willing to make friends. It really means a lot."

"But…" Dad began as if they were sharing the same sentence.

"But what?" I asked, putting down my fork.

Mom and dad looked at each other. "Well…" Mom began. "It's just that we know what happens at these high school parties, and we just want you to be careful."

"Yeah." Dad chimed in. "We can't have you having fun without us around to nag you about the consequences. After all, you could get pregnant."

"We're not going to forbid you from going to the party." Mom continued, ignoring dad. "And we certainly don't expect you to abstain from any of the things going on. Just… Just be careful. Don't do anything you'll end up regretting."

"We're all for you having fun, but getting overly drunk in grade 9 is something that not just we will be mad at." Dad continued. "You'll really come to regret it too if you overdo it. And don't even get me started on getting a girl pregnant."

"Dad, I'm in grade 9." I countered. I felt a bit guilty countering with that given everything I've done since grade 9 started.

"I know." He nodded seriously. "But I don't need to be a biology teacher to know that this is the age where you start feeling urges and figuring things out, so to speak."

"Dad…" I responded lamely, feeling my cheeks burn.

"Just don't overdo it. Remember, you've got literally your entire life. And I'm going to pull a dad moment here – if you can, your mother and I would appreciate it if you had no sex at the party. You're young, you're curious, so we're okay with you having a little alcohol, maybe even a little weed if it's there."

"Timothy." Mom interjected with disapproval in her voice.

He turned to her. "If we try to go our entire lives protecting him from it, that's just going to make him want to rebel more. I want our son to grow up to be who he'll be, not our deluded picture of perfection. It'll be much better for him if we're open with it when he's young so he doesn't overdo it when he's older."

Mom maintained her scowl, but didn't say anything. Dad turned back to me. "Anyway, we're cool with that, just… not sex. That has very real consequences, consequences you don't even know exist."

That last comment worried me. Obviously, they didn't know that I've had sex before. Hell, they didn't even know I had a girlfriend. (I was used to not telling them much about my life.) But did I fully understand the consequences? Obviously I wasn't going to get either Nicole or Megan pregnant, but that was all I knew. How would this change my life? Would I be better off if I had waited? Would Nicole and I even be friends if I did? Did Nicole have an STD and not bother to tell me? I had no clue.

While my mind was wandering through the land of the unknown consequences, dad was still rambling on. He brought me back to reality by asking, "Do you understand?"

"Dad, I'm in grade 9." I repeated.

"You said that." Dad remarked.

"I won't be having sex, dad. Don't worry. I'll never be that popular." I promised him.

"It sneaks up on you." Dad said, earning a look of distaste from mom. "The popularity, I mean," he clarified.

"Okay, sweetie. As long as you're careful, we'll bring you to and from the party." Mom said sweetly. "What time should we drop you off, and where?"

"Um…" It slipped my mind. I reached for my phone.

My first party. Yeah, I wasn't going to have sex, but sex doesn't make a party, does it? I'm sure the high school populace isn't as shallow as that, I thought to myself.

***

I sure was glad that dad dropped me off down the street from the party, because once again, I was proven wrong. I doubt I even had the right to be surprised at this point, but even around the area when I walked in through the front door, where there wasn't dancing that was a little too close for comfort, there were couples that looked like Siamese twins joined at the lips or pelvis, or people drinking and smoking. Barely any conversation was shared, barely any room to breathe, and the only thing I could recognize from my world present at that party were the bowls of chips and other party food. Everyone stayed away from the Cheetos, though – it looked as if somebody spilled their beer in that bowl.

"Yo, Adam!" Dylan came out of the crowd and clamped one arm around me. His other arm was busy supporting a hand that had a half-empty beer can in it. "Glad you could make it, bro! Having' a good time so far?"

"I just got here." I responded in a voice that came across colder than I wanted it to be.