We think alike Chapter 1

We think alike
Chapter 1

When you’re young and in your teens, people always seem to be saying you’ve got the world at your feet, but only when you’re older do you realize how true that was. It doesn’t always seem that way at the time, especially if you’re not the most self-confident person.

It all started halfway through my last year of high school. I had just turned 18, and I was still a virgin. I lived with my parents and Louise, who lived next door and was exactly a year older than me, right down to the month. Life was so much simpler then.

With our ages being so close, Louise and I had always been close as kids, and with my father working away a lot of the time in his job as a manager of a building company and my mother working shifts as a nurse, we spent a lot of time at home on our own. That made us even closer. We fought, argued occasionally, and behaved like most other kids, but we were pretty close when it came down to it.

When we were young, Louise and I played the games most kids played together, but we also had a little game of our own where we would pick a TV series with a married couple in it, and we would pretend we were the husband and wife in the show. We would act out our version and kiss each other on the lips in a schoolkid imitation of what we saw the actors doing on TV, and as a young kid, I found this very exciting.

It seemed like it all stopped the year Louise turned 17, and I always thought she just grew out of it. Even so, I used to fantasize about taking things further, especially after I discovered porn.

I found out at the age of 16 that adult women have pubic hair, and occasionally, for the next few years, I would wonder what Louise looked like down there, inside her panties.

I got my chance one day when she was 17, and when her parents passed away from an auto accident, she stayed at my house and had a party with four friends here.

Although we didn’t have a pool, they all brought their bikinis along, and the five danced under the backyard's lawn sprinklers.

When the first girls arrived, I was watching TV, and Louise walked through the family room to join them outside. She wore a bikini with cut-off denim shorts over her bottom.

Halfway across the room, she stopped to pull off her shorts, but her bikini bottom came down as well, and for an instant, I got a look at her grown-up bush from across the room. I thought my cock would explode, and even though I don’t think she even knew I saw her, I wanked over that sight for months.

Then, as the girls frolicked under the sprinklers outside, I found a vantage point looking out the bathroom window. I was in heaven as their wet bikini bottoms molded themselves to the contours of their pussies, and their tits bounced freely in their bikini tops while they jumped around under the water. I put that memory to good use later on, too.

Fast-forward two years, we were Louise at 19 and me at 18. She had a job as a receptionist at the local Ford dealer and a boyfriend named Derek, who was two years older than she was. Louise was five feet, seven inches tall, with a slim build, and I guess you could say her looks were more girl next door than beauty queen, but if you took a second look, you’d see that she had a curvy shape, great legs, a nice round, firm backside, and tits that were not big, but well shaped and in proportion to the rest of her. She had light brown, medium-length hair, fair skin, and blue-grey eyes, and if you got close, you could see she had a little sprinkle of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had a great sense of humor and smiled a lot.

Years of gymnastics and netball had made her very supple, and although she gave up gymnastics at 16, she could still do the splits at the drop of a hat, and she had kept on playing netball on the weekends, so she kept herself toned.

On the other hand, although I was tall, I was only of average build, and I was reasonably fit, playing regular soccer, but I was no athlete. I was never a hit with girls back then, but like almost every other 18-year-old guy on the planet, I had sex on my mind a lot of the time.

Another thing I had in common with every other 18-year-old was that when my cock got hard, it got rock hard, and I could come three or four times a day if I felt like it. My dick was only average-sized if what I saw in the school showers after sport or in the soccer field change rooms was anything to go by, but sadly the only action it had ever seen was from my right hand.

Some nights, when my dad was away, and my mother was on night shift, I’d hear Louise and Derek going at it in her bedroom, even though there was a bathroom between our two rooms. I never heard much from Derek, just low, muffled mumbling, but I would listen to Louise saying stuff like, “That’s it, Derek, that’s it, just like that! Keep going just like that! Oh my god, Derek, that’s good, that’s too good. Oh, Derek, that is so-o-o FUCK-ING good!!”

I would lie there, imagining them together in Louise’s room, but I’d never had sex with a girl before. Hence, the pictures in my mind were like the pictures in porn magazines I had read or dirty movies I had seen, with Derek hammering Louise on her back, with her legs over his shoulders, or Louise on all fours, while Derek drove his cock into her pussy from behind. I never imagined them as two people making sweet love in the missionary position. In my mind, I only saw them fucking like porn stars, fucking for the sheer sexual pleasure it gave them, fucking hard, and fucking simply because it felt good.

Then, mid-year, Derek broke up with Louise. Worse still, he dumped her for the town slut, Barbara Ekins, and to add icing to the cake, when Louise tried to ask him why, he told her he’d been cheating on her with Barbara for months, and Barbara was a better fuck anyway. Louise was devastated, and for a week, she cried all the time and wouldn’t eat, just lying in her room like a hermit while I sat and wished I could help her get over him.

My parents seemed to think it was just something she was going through and she’d snap out of it soon enough, so they weren’t much help. As for me, well, I was just an 18-year-old kid who’d never had a girlfriend. What did I know about relationship advice?

She came home from work one afternoon and went straight to her room. I heard her sobbing softly, so I went to the door, determined to help. She was lying on her back, with her head turned, facing away from me, and I tried to think of something to say that would help, but nothing came. I tried my best.

“Fuck Derek!” I said eloquently. Louise turned to face me.

“Yeah,” I continued, digging deep into my experience in counseling people with problems, “Fuck him, you’ll find someone better.”

She said nothing but patted the bed beside herself, so I walked over and sat beside her. She looked so sad.

“Hold me,” she said but didn’t move, so I shuffled down next to her and put one arm underneath her and one over her shoulders, facing her. She snuggled in close, putting her head on my chest, and I was slightly ashamed to find myself looking down at her blouse at her breasts in that position, feeling the warmth from them, and I started to tell her about all the things Derek was missing, and how he was the loser, not her.

I tried to ignore those lovely tits, inches from my face, but it was as though my cock had a hair trigger, and with her soft, curvy body pressed up against me and her breasts displaying themselves to me like that, my hormones took over, and my dick went to wood in no time flat.

I kept on telling her good things about herself, with my tool trying harder all the time to get my attention, and after a while, Louise leaned over to kiss me gently on the forehead. “I’ll be okay,” she said softly, “I just need to lie here for a while. I’ll come out to see you in a few minutes. Thanks for the talk; I feel a bit better now.”

I got up and walked out of her room. I went to my bedroom, where I wanked the erection away, and then had a quick shower to destroy the evidence, almost hating myself for being so aroused by Louise at a time when she was feeling so low.

The following day, the school holidays started, and I had the day to myself when my mother and Louise went to work. I bummed around, tidied up, and went to a friend’s place for a while, then came back mid-afternoon to an empty house.

I felt that old, familiar hunger in my pants, so I went to my room and settled in for a good session of me-time. No one was due home for a while, so I found an English porn mag in my stash and started to go through it, looking for inspiration. I found a six-page photo set with two girls, so I began to check out the pics while my hand did the work.

Lesbian porn was my favorite, and this set ticked all the boxes. There were two beautiful girls, one blonde and one with brown hair, and they were dressed as secretaries with short skirts, stockings, and conservative blouses. They graduated from sly smiles to kissing each other, and then undressing, sucking each other’s tits, and then to oral sex on the desk, and the second last shot in the set was a full-page close-up of the brown-haired girl licking the blonde girl’s pussy. I focused on the photo and was about to come for all I was worth when.

“Bust-ed!”

I looked up in horror and shame to see Louise at the foot of my bed, looking at my tool-filled hand, and I threw the magazine off the bed and pulled the sheet over myself, but the damage was done. Instantly, I felt sick in the stomach.

“Fuck! Fuck! Ohhhh, fuck!!” was all I could say as the orgasm I was just about to have seemed to vanish into thin air. Louise’s mouth was open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I said, still in shock.

“You know,” she started, “I was about to ask the same question, but the answer is so obvious, it would’ve made me look pretty stupid, wouldn’t it?”

I lay there without answering, starting to shake a little, and she went on with, “I got off work early today, so I came straight home to see what you were up to. I walked in, and you’ve got your door wide open, and" she burst out laughing, but kept on talking, so the only words I understood were “hammer and tongs.”

I probably would have laughed if I wasn’t so ashamed and embarrassed. She got over her laughter and said, a little more seriously, “You really should close the door when you do that.”

“I did,” I said flatly.

“Well, you didn’t do it properly,” Louise said, looking me in the eye. “The wind must have blown it open. It’s blowing a gale outside, but you wouldn’t have noticed. I suppose your mind was on other things,” she finished with a sympathetic smile.

She walked around the bed and looked at the porn mag, which had fallen open at the pussy-licking shot. “What are you wanking over, anyway?” she said, with mischievous interest in her voice. She looked down.

“Lesbo porn!” she said as though she had discovered something.

“D’you like lesbians?” she asked, again looking me in the eye but with a curious look on her face. I could see there was no use lying, and the damage was done anyway, so I said, “Yeah, I think every guy does.”

Louise looked at the picture on the floor and said, “Lesbians,” with a smirk.

Then, she dropped to her knees, looked closer, and said, “Hey, do you think that brown-haired girl looks a bit like me?”

I could see from her face it was the same old Louise, who bounced stupid jokes off me all the time and got back as good as she gave, and I started to feel a little less embarrassed. I shook my head and said, “She doesn’t look like you.”

“Oh,” she said, standing back up. I assumed she was only pretending to be disappointed. She walked backward to the foot of my bed again and, with a smile, said, “Nah, she doesn’t look like me at all. I was just jerking’ you around, except,” she paused, “you’re doing enough of that for both of us.”

I put the pillow over my head and said, “Just go.” I was still embarrassed, but somehow, Louise had taken the edge off it. She was good at that kind of stuff.

She walked to the door and turned to say, “I better leave you alone, now. You look like you’ve got your hands full,” smirking, she finished, “One of them, anyway.” She walked out the door and made a big show of closing it properly.

I lay there for a moment, recovering from the shock, but as the moment had been ruined and the desire now taken over by a sick feeling of shame, I got up, took a long shower, and went for a long ride on my trail bike.

After dark, I returned hours later to find Louise watching TV in the family room. “Where’s my Mum?” I asked.

“Did you forget?” she asked right back, “She’s gone down the coast to spend some time with your dad. She left straight after work, Airhead. Just like she’s been talking about all week, it’s just you and me here for the next couple of days.”

Louise told me my dinner was in the microwave, so I reheated it and ate quickly, avoiding her as far as possible, not because of any bad feeling between us, but because I still felt a bit ashamed. I said goodnight, showered again and went to bed.

After a while, I heard the shower in the bathroom next to my bedroom, and after it stopped, I heard Louise moving around. Then, things went quiet for a few minutes, although the light was still on in the hall. I was having trouble dropping off to sleep, and a moment or two later, I heard two knocks, even though my door was half-open, and then Louise’s voice.

“Wayne,” she said, “It’s me.”

”I didn’t think it would be anyone else,” I answered without trying to sound abrupt.

“Can I come in?” she continued.

“Course you can,” I answered, still feeling sheepish. She moved into the doorway, a silhouette in the light from the hall.

“I thought I’d better knock,” she said, “after, you know, today.”

I saw her shoulders shrug in the dark and said, “Give it a rest!” with exasperation. She stepped closer and said, “I wanted to talk to you about that. Today, I mean. Put your bedside light on. I don’t want to blind you by turning on the room light.”

I turned on the bedside light and saw she was wearing a pair of light blue cotton summer pajamas. They were sexy, and in the past, I have to admit I had wanked at the thought of her in them. That memory didn’t help my guilty feelings one bit.

“Look,” she said, “everybody does that. We all do it.”

“We?” I said.

I was honestly surprised she said that, and in my whole life, I had never imagined Louise doing that to herself, giving herself pleasure like that, all on her own. Suddenly, the thought made the back of my mouth and throat all thick and dry. Louise wasn’t finished yet, though.

“Of course,” she smiled, “Do you think girls just get to a certain age and suddenly want to have sex? We get horny long before then, so what are we going to do? Of course, we do it.”

She came over and sat on the left side of my bed. She asked, “Do you remember those silly games we played as kids? Playing doctor? That kind of stuff?”

I thought back and said, “Yeah,” avoiding her gaze, “I do.”

She continued, “What about the other game and all the times when you played Darren? and I was Samantha? Or Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham from Happy Days?”

I chuckled for a moment, thinking back. We had not mentioned those games to each other for years. I had figured it was a subject she wanted to forget and put out of her mind. I smiled and added, “What about when I was Fonzie?”

I saw that smile on her face that I had known all my life, and she said, “Yeah, Fonzie. What would Mr. C have to say about that?”

She went severe again and said, “Well, this may surprise you, but sometimes, well, most times, after we played those games, I would go back to my room, and kind of,” she paused as if thinking of whether to continue, “kind of, ah, um, touch myself.”

She gave me a searching look and said, “Um, did you ever.”

“No,” I lied.

“Oh,” she said, with real disappointment in her voice.

“Well,” she continued, “Then there was yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” I said, guilt rising inside me.

“Well, yeah, yesterday,” she started. “There I was, all upset, and you came and sort of, um, said all those nice things, and made me feel so much better about myself, and you were kind of lying there, up against me and stuff, and it just felt nice to cuddle up to a man and feel good about myself,” pausing, then adding, “you know?”

“A man?” I spoke. I had half a clue, or maybe just wishful thinking, but I had half an idea of where this might be leading.

“Okay,” she answered, “you are, but I couldn’t help it if it still felt nice.”



To be continued