Free Birthday Girls by Jean Stone Page B

touched the pink tip. Lightly at first.
    Jack moaned.
    “Make me come, baby,” he groaned. “Put your hand around it and make me come.”
    She caught her breath, then wrapped her fingers around the shaft. They did not meet on the other side.
    “Move your hand, baby,” Jack cried. “Move it up and down.”
    Slowly she began to rock his penis in her hand. With each stroke, the tingling built between her own legs. With each stroke, she squeezed more tightly. Quickly he reached down and thrust his hand between her legs, rubbing furiously at her crotch. Then he worked his fingers underneath her panties and plunged one inside her. It hurt. She jerked. He moaned again. Something sticky dribbled down her wrist.
    “Oh, baby,” Jack whispered. “Oh, baby.”
    She rested her head against the back of the seat, listened to the rapid thumping of her heart, and wondered why she had waited until fourteen to do this—and when she could do it again.
    Racing up the driveway, past the fountain, straight up to Abigail’s front door, Kris wasn’t even out of breath when she rang the doorbell. And she knew there was a wide smile on her face.
    “You’re too late,” Maddie announced, sweeping open the door. “We ate all the cake.”
    “Bullshit,” Kris said, using one of the favorite words the girls had adopted somewhere along the time they all had begun the once-a-month bleed between their legs. “And you’ll thank me for being late. I’ve reached a milestone better than being fourteen.” She breezed past Maddie into the huge foyer and headed for the library, where she couldn’t wait to tell her story. Behind her, Maddie’s feet softly padded.
    Quickly Kris scanned the library. Abigail and Betty Ann were on the floor, rolling their hair in large pink rollers. “Everyone, stop what you’re doing,” Kris demanded. “We have important stuff to talk about.”
    “You’re late,” Abigail answered. “We ate all the cake.”
    “Who cares.” She dropped to the floor in a crossed-legged position and tucked her thick black hair behind her ears. “I did it,” she announced.
    “Did what?” Betty Ann asked.
    Maddie clutched at her stomach and slumped beside Kris.
    “You’re crazy,” Abigail said as she calmly twirled another roller around her blonde hair. “And I don’t believe you for a minute.”
    “Well” Kris said, “I didn’t exactly
do
it. I came close, though.”
    “Close doesn’t count,” Abigail said, averting her gaze.
    “Excuse me, but it does count.”
    “Counts for what?” Betty Ann asked. “What are you talking about?”
    “Sexual intercourse,” Maddie said. “Kris had sexual intercourse with Jack.”
    Betty Ann’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a barely audible gasp. “OhMyGod. How could you?”
    Kris shook her head. “I didn’t go all the way. But I held it in my hand. And I jerked him off. He came all over my hand.” She held up her hand.
    The room grew silent. Suddenly Betty Ann sprang up from the floor, knocking over the pile of rollers. “I have to pee,” she announced, and raced from the room.
    “God,” Maddie said, “I’ve never even
seen
a penis.”
    “I have,” Abigail commented as she rose and placed her hands on her hips. “I walked in one day when Grandfather was changing. I thought it looked rather disgusting.”
    Just then Abigail’s grandfather appeared in the doorway, Betty Ann by his side. “What’s going on?” he asked. “It seems you’ve scared this poor girl to death and she wants to be taken back to school.”
    Kris looked at the man—tall, snow-white hair, with the same green eyes as Abigail. Her gaze dropped to his flyand she wondered why on earth Abigail would think his penis—any penis—was disgusting.
    Abigail walked over to Betty Ann and put her arm around her. “It’s all a joke, Grandfather. Kris told us a joke and Betty Ann didn’t like it. Come on, Betty Ann, we haven’t made our birthday wishes.”
    Tears coursed down Betty Ann’s