Written by: Roger
It was the end of August, just before the graduating class would leave their homes for their journeys to the various colleges, trade schools, and jobs around the country, so Janet decided to have a final pool party at her house to see the gang together one last time.
All the guys hung around the pool in their own little cliques, just like they did in high school: Naturally, there was the cheerleader clique, the jock clique, the brainy clique, and the nerd clique. But there was also the love clique, which is what Janet, Pamela, and Paul called themselves, not because they were great lovers (they were still virgins), but because they had such great love and affection for each other since middle school. Their other school mates referred to them as The Three Musketeers. They were always together. Paul even took them both to the Senior Prom, and bought them both identical corsages.
Poolside there were all types of swim outfits present from bikinis and Speedos to two-piece and one-piece swimsuits, and hodad trunks as well. Pamela had on a tiny bikini because she had the figure for it. Janet had on a tankini because she was sensitive about the couple of extra pounds around her waist, and Paul had on a pair of designer trunks.
They all three shared the same blanket, when Janet’s mom called her back to the house to help with the refreshments. Pamela said to Paul, “Janet won’t be back for a bit, and she showed me a great place the other day, down the hill about a hundred yards, where she makes out sometimes. Do you want to see it?”
Paul said, “Sure.” They picked up the cooler with their own sandwiches and sodas in it, and the blanket and walked off down the hill. They got to a stile over a wire fence, crossed it and went into a tiny grove of trees until they came to a clearing. Pamela sat down the cooler and Paul spread out the blanket. They flopped down and began doing something that can only be described as smooching.
Pam took the opportunity to feel the pouch in the front of his trunks, and said, “It feels like it’s getting a little crowded down there.”
“You are a good kisser.”
She traced a heart of the back of his hand. “Paul, you can masturbate if you want to.”
“What?”
“I know all boys do it. My little brother and I were watching the cheerleader competition on the sports channel the other night and he suddenly got up from the floor, and his pants were sticking way out, and he went to the bathroom for a while, and when he came back it was normal again, and he had a sheepish look on his face. Besides, I’d like to watch you do it; I’ll bet you’re cute when you spank your monkey.”
“Oh great! That’s all I need! The next time I’m sitting on the pot, whacking my wiener and fantasizing about being ball-deep inside a supermodel, I’ll hear your voice inside my head saying, ’You’re cute when you spank your monkey.’”
“Why don’t you show me? Listen, we’re both adults here . . . barely. And there’s no one else around. Just show me how you do it.”
Paul looked around, undid the string in his trunks and pulled them off, kicking them to the side of the blanket. He got down on his knees and she got on her knees in front of him. He said, “Let me show you the best way.”
Pam said, “It looks pretty bi