Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 OPENING THE BOX (part 4)

   By KATZMAREK

   -------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer.

   This is a work of erotic fiction.  It remains the property of the author
and may not be reproduced for profit without the author's express
permission.

   ---------------------------------------------------------------

   When Justin arrived home the next day from school, he saw his
step-father's blue and white sports car in the drive.  Low, the roofline
barely came up to the level of the EVO's windows.  His parents travelled
light, there was barely any room for luggage.  If they needed anything they
simply bought or hired it, they were *that* wealthy.

   Justin knew he was indulged and lived a privileged life.  Their house
was large and sat on 2 acres of grounds.  There was a gardener, a
housekeeper, a maintenance man, all ensured he needn't lift a finger.

   It hadn't always been that way.  He'd spent his early childhood moving
around from place to place.  His real father had left them when Justin was
about 2.  He was a jeweller who followed the country fairs in an old bus
selling his wares.  Justin thought it an idyllic life, always travelling,
parking the old Leyland wherever there was a stream for water.

   His dad had turned up one day, unannounced.  He rode in on an old BSA
motorcycle, meticulously restored.  His dad had fussed over him, took him
for outings, showed him the bush.  They'd sat on a cliff one evening above
the ocean and watched the sun turn the sea orange.  He'd put his arm around
his shoulders and told him how much he'd loved him.

   By contrast, his step-father was distant.  He couldn't remember a time
when he'd displayed any kind of affection.  He had, though, bought him
practically anything he'd asked for.  One thing he'd never been allowed to
do, however, was drive the sports car.

   It was a one-off, a prototype, based on the chassis and motor of a
formula one racing car.  A V10 BMW engine sat snuggly behind the driver,
the fat tyres clung to a race-bred space-frame.  A roll cage restricted
room inside, full harness safety belts pinned you to wrap-round racing
seats.  To buy it you wouldn't have much change from 2 million dollars.

   "So, are you and Angela settled in yet?" his mother asked, "when do we
get the chance to check her out?"

   "I could go and pick her up in the Williams?" Justin suggested, pointing
at the sports car optimistically.

   His stepfather had chuckled at the suggestion.

   "Why not?" his mother had gleamed at her husband, "Justin's a good
driver, aren't you sweetie?"

   His stepfather had choked on his latte.  He'd offered very little
resistance to any suggestions of his wife in the past, but this was almost
too much.

   "Now, he won't be able to handle it," he pleaded, "the motor's, it's
just too powerful and..."

   "You'd be careful, wouldn't you?" his mother had said, mischievously.

   "Insurance?  If he crashed it..."

   "Oh, it could be fixed up, darling.  Justin would drive sensibly,
wouldn't you?"

   Justin nodded enthusiastically.  His stepfather had wandered away
shaking his head and mumbling that she'd better know what she was doing.

   So a little while later Justin navigated the monster out onto the road.
The motor felt like it wanted to propel him into orbit.  A light touch of
the accelerator illicited a sharp burst of power sending the Williams
jolting forward.  It took some while before he began to develop a 'feel'
for the car's controls.

   Out on the motorway he waited for a decent stretch of straight road
before giving the pedal a bigger nudge.  The motor howled, the traction
control prevented the rear wheels from burning off the tyre tread, it was
as if a rocket had been lit behind him.  The lamp posts sped past with
increasing speed.  It was every 16 year old male's wet dream.

   Pulling up outside Angela's, half the street's kids had drifted out to
their gates to stare.  Justin felt he was a visiting Prince, leaning
casually against the door grinning.

   Angela came down her path wide-eyed in bemusement.  On cue, Justin
pulled a bunch of roses from behind his back and announced,

   "Mum wants to meet you."

   He'd seen it in a movie.  He was pleased the little drama had the same
effect on Angela.  His timing had been perfect.  She laughed in pleasure
and amusement.  She manuevered herself into the passenger's seat while
Justin showed her how to do up the harness.  That this involved some
contact around her chest region was not lost on them both.

   "Mum's watching!" she hissed, when Justin got a little too 'friendly.'

   "I was just showing..." he started to tell her.

   "I know what you were doing," she grinned, "I can do the buckle up
myself, thank you."

   Angela looked around her in wonder as Justin showed her around the
house. They stood on the back balcony and surveyed the grounds, wandered
among the roses, sipped cokes on the patio while Justin's mother hovered
around telling Angela, 'it was about time...' etc.

   Angela was asked to stay for dinner.  She checked with her parents and
said it was ok.  Justin's mother ordered Cambodian, a family favourite.  It
was delivered within the hour and placed on burners on their large dining
table by two uniformed waiters from the restaurant.  It was nearly all a
bit much for her.

   After dinner Justin showed her his room.  It was a top floor annex with
a ceiling that sloped down one side following the roof line.  The other
side had a sliding window opening onto a balcony.

   They played video games for a while, sitting together on the floor
against Justin's unmade bed.

   Justin ventured an arm around her neck, she stroked his leg.  They
smiled and kissed one another.  His hand found her right breast and cupped
it over her top.

   "Your parents?" she whispered.

   "They won't come in," he murmured, "door's locked anyhow."

   She raised her eyebrows, suspiciously.

   "You can trust me," he reassured her, "and yourself," he added smiling.

   "Wrong and wrong," she told him, grinning, "that's what makes you so
dangerous," she twinkled her eyes.

   He growled like a tiger, or maybe a tomcat.  In any case, she mewed like
a frightened kitten.  They laughed and kissed some more.  Justin nibbled
all around her throat and over the cotton of her top.  His lips sought out
her nipple and was rewarded when it expanded under the layer of clothing.

   "Check the door!" she told him, suddenly.

   Justin shrugged and got up, tried the handle and pronounced it locked.
Turning, he found Angela sliding her jeans down her tanned legs. 
Pleasurably surprised, she explained to him that they might as well make
themselves comfortable.

   Justin dropped his own pants and, as an afterthought, slipped his
T-shirt over his head.  Meanwhile, Angela had got into his bed and arranged
the duvet over herself.

   He slid quickly in beside her and resumed kissing.  His hand caressed
her exposed skin, around her thighs and across her tummy.  Hers slid around
his waist, up his back and over his butt.  His cock unfolded in his
underpants, furtively he worked it to the side where it would have more
room for expansion.  Eventually he would have to work it out underneath his
waistband.

   Justin began to knead and nip her breasts lightly.  She trembled and
told him to wait.  She then sat up and pulled her top over her head,
turning sideways so Justin could undo the clip of her bra.  Now topless,
she hurried back under the covers.  Perhaps still concerned with the
presence of Justin's parents.

   They fitted snuggly into the palms of Justin's hands.  As only the
second set of female breasts he could remember exploring, he absently
compared the qualities in his mind.  Angela's were stiffer and held their
shape on her chest, whereas Sharon's kind of flattened and rolled around.
He treated them the same, however, as he did with Sharon's.

   Angela sucked in her breath and moaned softly.  Her fingers gripped his
back harder.  She whispered,

   "I trust you," quietly in his ear.

   His fingers found their way over her panties, he felt the soft flesh
between her legs.  Pressing lightly over her pussy he sought out her slit,
and the little hollow of the entrance to her vagina.

   Gradually he rolled on top of her, between her legs.  Justin felt his
straining cock press down onto her bone.  Angela bent her knees up and
Justin sensed the dampness and heat emanating from her soft pussy.  He
pressed down again and slowly sawed his cock along her moist, nylon-covered
slit.

   "Baby, be careful!" she whispered urgently, "I trust you!" she added
again.

   Angela began to roll her arse, matching Justin's rhythm.  Mindful of his
hair-trigger, Justin tried to remember all the advice that Sharon had
offered.  When he felt himself beginning to boil, he eased off and
continued to stimulate her with his fingers.  When the crisis passed, he
resumed his 'dry humping.' Sometimes he stopped alltogether and kissed her
passionately on the mouth.  Angela was soon panting and digging into his
arse with her fingernails.

   During a pause she told him, quietly,

   "Oh baby, you make me so horny!  You're so hot honey!"

   "I've dreamed of this," he replied, "you...  in my bed!"

   "Me too!" she whispered.

   "Really?" he grinned, "and do you?  Y'know...  get horny and..."

   "Wank?" she finished the sentence, "do you?"

   He nodded.

   "So do I!" she told him.

   "Really?  How often?"

   "Pervert!" she laughed, "maybe every night before I go to sleep, you?"

   "Three times a day!" he grinned.

   "Liar!" she giggled.

   He resumed humping, she clung to him and cooed with pleasure and
excitement.

   "You know...  uh?" she gasped, "I'm...  not...  oh...  a virgin...uh."

   "No?"

   "Uh huh...  ooo."

   "Neither...  am I," he panted.

   "Thought not...  Go harder baby!" she called urgently.

   Her moaning took on a harsher tone.  She thrust back harder against him,
pulled him down tighter.

   "Oh Justin...  oooohhhh...  ahhhhh...  baby...  ooooo."

   Her body stiffened and slammed against him.  She grit her teeth, siezed
his cock with her fist, squeezed and pulled on him.  Justin, however had
successfully kept himself in check and hadn't matched her orgasm.

   Lying ,pinned tight to Angela's body by her arm around his neck, Justin
listened to her breathing begin to slow.  He felt moisture on his cheek,
looked up and saw her eyes moist and red.

   "What's the matter?" he murmured, concerned.

   "I'm being silly," she sobbed, "I don't know."

   After a while spent slowly stroking each other's faces, Angela whispered
something.  More like a movement of the lips, Justin didn't catch it.

   "What's that?" he asked slowly molesting her nipples.

   Giggling, she pushed his hands away.

   "You won't be cross?" she asked.

   He shook his head.  He couldn't imagine anything she'd say that could
make him cross at that moment.

   "I think I love you," she whispered, uncertainly.

   Justin's life just got a whole lot more complicated, he felt. 
Especially when he told her he thought he loved her too.

   "Justin?" she asked after a time.  Sucking in her breath she asked, "do,
do you like me more than Chrissie Benmore?"

   "Chrissie, what?  Of course, why?"

   "It's just that...  It's not that I'm spying on you or anything, believe
that."

   "Sure, I know!" he replied, doubtfully.

   "It's that...  someone saw you saying goodbye to her outside her gate
the other night.  Your car was there...  and you were hugging...  They said
your car had been there a couple of hours.  I don't mind..." she told him,
tears welling again.  Clearly it *did* matter.  "...I mean, if you want to
see her...  but I need the truth, Justin, please?"

   Justin felt his growing panic, his erection wilted rapidly in response.
Absently, he noted that panic was a sure technique for delaying
ejaculation.

   "I'm not seeing Chrissie," he explained as forthrightly as possible, "I
was visiting Mrs.  Benmore, Sharon.  Chrissie came home as I was leaving
and bumped into me by the gate, that's all it was."

   "Really, that's all?" Angela seemed relieved, "you were seeing
Chrissie's mother?  What for?"

   Justin knew the question would come.  He didn't however, have a prepared
answer.  He wavered between several lies and the truth.  He thought he'd be
able to choose which explanation to use when the time came.  He realised,
now how hard that decision was going to be.

   "Justin?" he could hear her break through into his thoughts.

   "Sharon Benmore and I..." he felt his resolve falter.

   Angela stared into his face curiously.  A gleam of realisation began to
spread over her features.

   "Oh God, Justin?" she gasped.

   "She's been kind of tutoring..." he continued, realising with mounting
certainty that Angela wasn't going to buy it.

   "Tutoring?  What subject, Justin?" a sarcastic tone developed.

   "Massage!" he told her, suddenly inspired, "want one?" he said,
brightly.

   "Massage?" she said, floored.

   "Yes, I'm going to be a masseuse, I've decided."

   "So Mrs.  Benmore's been showing you how to massage?" Angela asked,
incredulously, "what, you take you clothes off and let her..."

   "Sure!" he told her, "professionally of course.  Y'know, there's nothing
else to it."

   "Well," she replied with a sly expression, "maybe not for you.  But I
bet she enjoys herself!"

   "Maybe she does," he shrugged, "didn't notice."

   Angela combined relief with humour and burst out laughing.  Running her
fingertips over cock and balls she whispered,

   "Does she massage these?  or haven't you noticed?"

   He smiled and started to molest her body once again.  She licked his
chest, his hand slipped under her soaking panties and felt her arse.

   "Do you like head?" she suddenly asked, looking up into his face,
"y'know, sucking it?"

   "I know!" he told her bemused, "sure, if you want to."

   She grinned and kissed her way down his body while holding his cock in
her fist.  Justin felt her warm mouth and tongue eventually touch his
cockhead.  Hold his balls in her hands, Justin felt her lips close over
him.

   "Shit!" he heard her muffled voice, "you're big!"

   Justin didn't feel she was as skilled as Sharon, but then why would she
be?  He pushed a finger along her butt crack and probed the entrance to her
vagina.  Angela clenched her muscles as he pushed into her with his index
finger.  As she bobbed on him, he fingerfucked her.  He felt more aroused
from that act upon her, particular when her hand joined his.  When he
welled and spurted, Angela pulled off quickly and directed the streams away
from her and over his stomach.  She did, though, kiss and stroke his balls
as his cock pumped out the last of his sperm.

   Afterwards they lay cuddling.  One of her legs was thrown over his
crotch, her uncomfortably wet panties abandoned, Justin could feel her damp
pussy pressed against his thigh.

   "Do you like kids?" she asked him, smiling.

   "Why?" he retorted, horrified.

   "No reason!" she told him, laughing.

   -------------------------------------------------------------

   "A masseuse?"

   Justin listened to Sharon's throaty, tobacco-stained laughter over the
phone.  His room still had the aroma of Angela, her scent and shampoo, with
the unmistakeble sweet smell of sex.  Justin had opened his windows, but
the the smell lingered, as if clinging to the walls and the bed.

   "So, ok, I'm giving you massage lessons?  You know, that could work out
very expensive!" she laughed.

   "Oh yeah," Justin agreed, "how much?  No problem."

   "Haha, I wasn't thinking of money, sugar!"

   "Oh," he'd been caught again.

   "Maybe you should just tell her, Justin," she was suddenly serious, it
caught him off guard.  "Y'know, it's not healthy lying to her.  You'll get
caught out in the end."

   "I can't!" he pleaded, "she'll kill me!"

   "Oh for God's sake!  And you think that keeping all this pretence going
is liable to impress her?"

   "No," he replied miserably.

   "Of course not, Sugar.  Maybe we should just call it quits, eh?  I don't
want to get in the way of true love."

   "Well , maybe, I...  Perhaps, like, we could just play it by ear?"

   "By ear?  Justin, you need to sort yourself out, Honey.  I really
enjoyed our little 'sessions' together, but I'm not going to be held
responsible for screwing up some kid's life."

   "You won't.  I promise!"

   "You promise?  Damn, Justin, I'm not your mother and I've learned all
about guys' 'promises' a long time ago.  Tell you what, just give me a call
when you've sorted things through.  Maybe I'll be here, maybe not.  It's
your crossword puzzle to work out, sugar, ok?"

   "Ok."

   The click on the end of the phone had a strange finality about it. 
Justin stood staring at the receiver wondering whether he would ever see
Sharon again.

   -----------------------------------------------------------------

   It was some days later when Justin encountered Chrissie Benmore again.
She was standing at a bus stop all alone.  Justin, travelling in the
opposite direction, had seen her bus down past the next block.  She'd
clearly missed it.

   He pulled a U turn, he thought perhaps of telling her about her bus. 
Pulling up, he saw she looked startled, almost pressing herself against the
building.  Justin lowered the window and beckoned her over.

   "Your bus has gone," he told her.

   "Um, Justin, have you got a phone?  Can I call mum?" she asked,
plaintively, "I've lost my bag with all my money.  The bus driver wouldn't
let me ride for nothing."

   "They wouldn't!" he told her sympathetically.

   Apart from the odd class trip, Justin had never been on a bus in his
life.

   "I'll have to call mum at work and perhaps she can come and get me.  Or
maybe my sister?  I don't know who else..." she told him, obviously
panicking.

   "Jump in!" Justin decided quickly, "I'll run you home."

   She hesitated at first, but clearly there was no better option going.

   Chrissie sat rigidly in the passenger seat of the EVO.  Her legs were
firmly pressed together and as angled away as the design of the car would
permit.  She looked to Justin like a shop mannequin that had been folded
into his car.

   She stared at some point out the side window, or straight ahead.  Justin
saw that her hands were shaking, she clenched and unclenched her hands
constantly.  She was making him nervous.

   "What's the matter, Chrissie?" he asked.

   "Nothing!" she snapped.

   As if to emphasise the point she stared right into his face.

   "You seem nervous?" Justin suggested, "you're shaking."

   "I, I guess I'm worried about my bag," she told him, not very
convincingly.

   "What did you have in it?"

   "Just, stuff," she replied, before lapsing back into silence.

   When they pulled up outside her house she opened the door of the car to
step out.  Suddenly she balled her fists and punched herself on the thighs.

   "Oh fuck, my key!" she wailed, "it's in my bag.  I can't get in!"

   She hovered by the car trying to make up her mind what to do.

   "Maybe I could look around the house?" Justin suggested, "maybe there's
a window open, or something?"

   She looked uncertain before nodding in submission.  Justin got out and
walked with her up the path and around the back.  Finding a window on the
latch he suggested they find a stick to push the lever up.  Carefully
Justin eased the latch up with a broken piece of car aeriel he'd found in
the garden shed.  Once achieved, he volunteered to climb inside and open
the door for her.  Chrissie nodded dumbly.

   Justin was enjoying playing the hero.  He shimmied up and slid his
skinny frame through the window.  Opening the door for Chrissie, she
mumbled her thanks and stood uncertainly in the passage.

   "Um, would you like a coke, coffee?" she offered, reluctantly.

   "Coffee, sure," Justin accepted brightly.

   He wasn't sure whether Chrissie actually wanted him to say yes, but
nevertheless she went through to the kitchen and put on a brew.  She stood
at the kitchen counter with her back to him.  Justin heard her sniffing.

   "What's the matter, Chrissie," Justin asked, concerned, "why are you
scared of me?"

   "I'm not!" she spun around, "what gave you that idea?"

   "Dunno," he shrugged, "you always seem so tense around me."

   "And why wouldn't I be?" she asked, angrily, "I should be happy about
you screwing my mother?"

   "You said..."

   "I said I understood," she interrupted, "not that I forgive you!"

   "Forgive me for what?" he asked her, confused.

   Walking over to her, Justin put her hand on her shoulder.  Seeing she
didn't pull away, he slowly turned her around to face him.  She looked at
the floor, her cheeks moist and streaked with tears.  She suddenly looked
into his face, eyes flashing anger and resentment.

   "What about Angela?" she said bitterly, "are you sleeping with her yet?"

   "I..." Justin reeled, speechless.

   "None of my business, I suppose?"

   Experienced as Justin was becoming, he obviously still wasn't able to
recognise a teenage crush when he came upon it.  Manfully he struggled to
come to grips with Chrissie's burst of emotion.

   "Well, I don't understand what it's got to do with you," he told her.

   "That's because you are so stupid, Justin!"

   "Well, tell me then!" he replied, irritated.

   Chrissie took a deep breath.

   "Angela and I were friends, we went to the same primary school.  Then I
went to Catholic School on this scholarship, mum would never had afforded
the fees..."

   "Yeah, and?"

   "So we used to tell each other everything, don't you get it?"

   "Um?" Justin looked at the ceiling, "no!"

   Chrissie sighed in frustration.

   "God, boys are so dumb!  We used to tell each other about guys, now do
you understand?"

   A flicker of enlightenment winked at him from the heavens.  Briefly he
thought he caught her drift.

   "So...  one of those guys was me?" he suggested.

   "Justin," her voice softened, "the *only* guy was you.  At least as far
as I was concerned."

   "Oh...  shit!  I...  I never knew, um," Justin stammered.

   "So first it was mum and now Angela..." Chrissie wailed, burying her
face against his shoulder and weeping some more.

   Justin was non-plussed.  Instinctively he held her against him in a hug.

   "I'm sorry," she sniffed against his shoulder, "I know I can't make you
like me..."

   "But I do!" Justin insisted, "gosh when you came in that morning and saw
me in your mother's bed..."

   "I nearly died, Justin," she looked up once more.

   Justin looked into her expectant face.  She was waiting for him to say,
or do something.  Not knowing what to say, he kissed her instead. 
Chrissie's mouth promptly opened and sucked him inside.  He felt
overwhelmed by the wave of emotion released from her.  Bottled up for God
knows how long?

   All thoughts of Angela, of Chrissie's mother, vanished in the swirl of
passion unleashed.  They squirmed against one another, held each other by
their butts and pushed their crotches together.  She moaned his name, like
out of a TV teenage soap opera.  Justin thought for a moment that it seemed
like a movie.  He was just an actor being told what to do by some unseen
Director.

   "This is wrong...  but it seems so right, don't you think?" she
murmured.

   Justin winced inwardly at the corny lines.  'Damn, who wrote this
script?' he thought to himself.

   The thought occurred to him that this scene had all been rehearsed in
Chrissie's mind for the day she'd have him where she wanted him.  He'd
suddenly become a real participant in her erotic fantasy.

   "Y'know, I know what to do...  If you want to?" she told him in a small
voice.

   As if to emphasise what she meant, she slid sensuously over him as he
felt the counter top digging into his back.

   "Do you want me?" she purred.

   Justin felt any resistance he had begin to crumble.  Sensing it, her
face took on a look of triumph, she pushed her hands under his shirt.

   "I'll show you my room, if you like?" she purred again.

   He allowed himself to be led up the passage.  Chrissie hooked her
fingers through his belt, as if taking possession of him.  Justin's arm
rested around her shoulders, more to steady himself.  Doubts and arguments
lingered and flashed across his mind.  Everything was becoming just too
weird for his liking.

   She towed him into her room and pushed the door closed with her arse. 
She then put her arms up around him and drew him down once more.  Up to
now, she had been the aggressor, but now Justin began to feel a surge of
desire take him over.

   As their mouths mashed together, tongues lashing, he took the clip out
of her hair allowing it to fall loose.  She drew apart, shook her hair
free, and allowed Justin to pull her shirt free of her skirt.  As he undid
the buttons, from bottom to top, she bunched his T-shirt up and pushed it
up his chest.  Her bra covered boobs sprang into sight at the same time as
Justin held his arms up so Chrissie could wrench his shirt from him.

   Justin looked down and drooled.  Her tits swelled over the top of her
bra, as if it was a size too small.  She grinned, a mixture of excitement
and embarrassment at his admiring stare.  His hands reached up and began to
caress them as Chrissie closed her eyes.

   Chrissie undid the zip at the side of her skirt and let it fall to the
floor.  Giggling she threw herself backwards across the bed.  Feet on the
floor, knees apart slightly, Justin was presented with a 15 year old
brown-haired beauty in white lingerie.  Chest heaving in anticipation, she
watched him lower his trousers to the floor.

   KATZMAREK(C)