Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Dee Does MS 6 By peregrinf Snuggling against John, all seemed very tranquil after our fuck. He was on his back, snoring softly, and together Beth and I covered him, me on his left, her on his right. But appearances can be deceiving. I wasn't tranquil. I was like a squirrel in a cage. I felt very alone, probably more alone than if I had actually been alone. I mean, like, they're sleeping peacefully, while I'm contemplating the catastrophes that lurk all around us. Global warming. Terrorist attacks. Swine flu. Toenail fungus. Toilet overflow. Pregnancy. My mind refused to melt into to the post-orgasmic glow. The Stick was gnawing her metaphorical fingernails. I was sucking my thumb. Literally! Slurp. Slurp. Slurp. "What if.... What if.... What if...." Even the hypnotically cycling glow of the screen saver couldn't lull me to sleep. "What if.... What if.... What if...." I found myself thinking of Henry. You know, the gerbil I had for a pet? And no, I don't remember why I named him Henry, but I know why I thought of him. Insomnia. According to the books, Henry was supposed to be either diurnal (active during the day, asleep at night, as you probably already know), or crepuscular (most active at dawn and dusk, less active or asleep during the day or night). Henry hadn't read the books. He was nocturnal, a word which I learned means "keeps Dee awake at night," and probably the reason I got such a good deal on him at the school fair. Henry had an exercise wheel in his cage, and the wheel made a "ka-squeak, ka-squeak, ka-squeak" with each revolution. No, oil didn't fix it. Nothing did. It was loud enough that no one wanted to share a room with him. But, he was MY responsibility, so.... Once, before I learned geometry and that "pi" wasn't a sweet treat, with Carl's help I calculated the circumference of the wheel, pi times the wheel's diameter. I counted the "ka-squeaks" per minute, times how many minutes Henry ran each night. Using that, I did some multiplication and long division and computed that Henry had run the equivalent of half-way across the state, at the expense of my sleep. Tonight the "ka-squeak" wasn't Henry, it was my mind, running in its own exercise wheel, and instead of "ka-squeak, ka-squeak, ka-squeak," it was "what-if, what-if, what-if." Or maybe it was "pregnant, pregnant, pregnant." The thought had become a desperate little animal, running and running and running, blindly, senselessly, over, and over, and over, a panicky scamper to nowhere. The thought of Mom's disappointment was an icy dagger in my gut. The Stick was no help, scolding me for not considering the consequences of my actions before I acted. I shifted and squirmed. Beth reached for me. Wordlessly snuggling closer, she managed somehow to embrace both John and myself, shielding both of us from our demons. Her soft, warm embrace gathered in the rodent of my mind, soothed and settled it, and I slept. I woke up from someone poking me in the ribs. My eyes, and some other parts of me, were all sticky and icky as I slowly crawled out of my sleep, daylight filling the room. I was still half on top of John, while Beth was on the other side, snoring softly. "I need to pee," John grunted urgently. "Sorry." I rolled on my back so he could escape. He crawled off over me. Blinking in the morning light, I was having trouble orienting myself. Then it came back to me and I twitched. The Stick grabbed my mental shoulders and gave me a hard shake. She insisted I was not pregnant! "Something wrong?" I must have made a noise. Beth had rolled over and was looking at me. "Nothing," I muttered. "Come on, give," she urged, drawing me to her, and the feel of her body against mine was so warm, and caring -- and arousing. "What -- what if I'm pregnant?" I was way down in the bed, in her grasp, my face below her chin, my hand cupping her breast, toying with her tit. "Stop that!" She took my busy hand in hers. "You haven't even had your first period, have you?" "No, but I must be almost due, and -- and I did it with John, and we didn't use any protection, and...." So, did I get sympathy? Did I get understanding? No, I did not. She tickled me! With no warning, she went right for my ribs! YEEEOWWW. So I retaliated, and my worries vanished in a gale of giggles and tickles as we tumbled around in bed, throwing off covers and the last shreds of modesty (not that we had much to begin with) in an unabashed tickle fest. I like to think my superior size and athleticism quickly prevailed over her experience and guile, but considering how things turned out, maybe she wanted to lose. "Oh oh," she said, dimpling up at me. Oh oh indeed! I was straddling her tummy, my naked pussy embracing her soft, warm, bare abdomen, to my pleasure, I assure you. I had her arms pinned. I licked my lips, and I saw the glint in her eyes even as she made a token effort to escape. "You wouldn't dare!" She'd said the magic word, dare. Never one to pass up a challenge, as well as a chance at a little carnal exploration, I lowered myself on her, slowly, seeing the quickening of her breathing, the stiffness of her nipples. Bless me! She's as randy as I am! She playfully twisted her head from side to side to avoid me, but she was no match for my cat-like reflexes. I licked her cheek, her ears (both), her neck, as I closed in on my target, and she was shrieking and giggling, her squirming only teasing my crotch even more. My lips found hers, with her cooperation, of course, and all the strength went out of her, all at once, and she kissed me back, her tongue tangling with mine. I let go of her arms and we wrapped each other in warm embrace, and it was flesh on flesh, my aroused nipples pressing into her soft, soft breasts. Oh Oh Yes! "You vixen!" she said softly when we broke the kiss. "Are you really worried about being pregnant?" "I was," I admitted. "But I'm not now." We kissed again, rolling over together, our legs tangling. Her nipple and my lips somehow made contact. I nibbled at that tempting morsel and she moaned. "Dee!" I sucked her sweet bud. "Oh Dee, you devil!" she groaned. Her arms embraced my head, hugging me to her breast, so I squirmed closer, nursing on her tit as I did. Her thighs spread, her legs tangling with mine. Cunt to thigh we squirmed together. "You're oversexed!" she complained. Maybe so, but at least I wasn't worrying anymore. I was juicing, and I could feel her hot seepings painting my thigh. She was as horny as I was. She needed a shave, the stubble on her pussy scraping my flesh. Releasing her tit, I squirmed up so I could kiss her again, our tongues playing together as we humped. Oh, it was soooo good! I had to admit to myself that I had wanted this for so long. I felt only a slight twinge at poaching on Carl's territory. I knew I'd never displace him in her heart, but she was sweet, and soft, and responsive, and my own heart swelled with love for Beth even as my body flooded with lust and I felt her responding with her own orgasm. We squirmed together like we were each trying to fit inside the other's skin, sharing our orgasms. As we came down I was vaguely aware of someone at the door, then footsteps running away, but I was erotically involved.... "Dee!" "What?" She jarred me out of my slide down from our orgasm with another, less playful poke in my ribs. "What?" "John needs you." "What? But I just...." She grabbed my ears! Literally, she grabbed my ears and dragged me up, meeting my eyes. "John needs you!" "How -- why?" "He heard us, saw us, and ran. Trust me, he needs you. Now! Get your cute little ass out of this bed and find him! He's probably in the bathroom." She sniffed. "Besides, you need a shower, and he does, too. Go!" The Stick joined her in goading me into action, scolding me out of my stupid self-absorption. I was needed! I got my ass out of bed. Did Beth really think my ass was cute? Wow! I found him, huddled in the bathroom, on the toilet seat, his hands twisting and twisting and twisting. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have watched," he apologized abjectly. "Why not?" I asked. "I would have." "Oh." I had to assure him I didn't mind, that in fact I wished I'd known he was watching. "I have nightmares, you know." "I know," I assured him gently, kneeling in front of him, capturing his writhing hands in mine. Then I had another thought. "But I hope you don't think what happened between us last night was a nightmare!" "Uhm, no, but, did we really ...? It wasn't a dream?" "Yes. We really did it," I assured him. "It wasn't a dream. And I don't regret it. I think it was wonderful. Don't you?" "But, I'm -- you're -- we're -- gay! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" "Sorry for what, the fuck? I'm not in the least bit sorry. And anyway, it wasn't your fault. It was my idea," I insisted. Well, maybe The Stick's more than my own. Heck, once in a while she's got to take the blame. "It was good. Wasn't it good?" He nodded. "It was wonderful. But I didn't think -- I thought I was -- I mean, I've been called faggot, and all .... And you and Beth just now, were doing it, weren't you? So doesn't that mean you're -- uh -- gay? I'm confused," he concluded. "So'm I," I admitted, rising enough to wrap my arms around him, two bodies finding warmth and comfort in each other. "I didn't think I was straight, but then last night you and I did it. Maybe we aren't what we think we are. Maybe together we can sort this out, but for now, come on, I need a shower. You can wash my back." "It -- was my first time," he confessed. I let that pass without comment. I didn't see any reason he needed to know of my lurid past. I regretted it had been, shall we say, a less than romantic encounter. Face it, I'd raped him. Call it a fuck of convenience, or opportunity. But then, now that I thought about it, my own "first" with Missy and Mike had been anything but romantic. Willing, eager even, but not romantic. Except, well, Missy's willingness to share her boyfriend with me, that was special, but that was before everything between us fell apart. "Come on." I maneuvered him into the shower, and with soap and spray we swept away the last of sleep's cobwebs and the crusty evidence of our dark-of-night debauchery, along with some of my guilt and worry. I washed him, he washed me, and the touch was soothing, not arousing. But I do admit to shocking him when I peed in the shower. Well, what was I supposed to do? I needed to pee! I didn't want to drip water all over the bathroom getting to the toilet. So I just sort of spread my legs, and stuck out my pussy, and let 'er rip, trying not to hit his feet, at least. Of course he knew! I couldn't do anything about the smell, and the yellow swirling around our feet before slithering down the drain was unmistakably from the fountain at my crotch. Like a loud fart in a quiet room, it wasn't something that could be ignored, and there were only two of us, so looking innocent was not an option. "Sorry," I apologized, blushing. "I shoulda gone before we got in." "S'alright. I never saw a girl pee before!" "Well, now you have." I tried to be matter-of-fact about it, but I could see it had an effect on him, and me, too, and I was curious about seeing him do it, of course, but I'd missed my chance, darn it. As we washed I found myself promising God that if He would please not let me be pregnant, I'd never, ever do such a foolish thing again, and I'd have Mom make another appointment with Dr. Smathers for some birth control, so I'd not have to trouble Him in the future, and I'd even start going to church -- I bet Beth would take me -- if He'd save me from my stupidity. I'd never really thought about God much, but right about now I was thinking that puberty is no place for sissies. Someone once said there are no atheists in foxholes, and I was in my own, personal foxhole, dodging the bombs and bullets of adolescence. I needed all the help I could get. We were just getting out as Beth came in, so we swapped places, leaving her to wash her own back. Rather than venture downstairs on our own, we took the time sitting on the bed in Beth's room to talk a bit about what had happened. He didn't want to talk about his nightmares, so I just explained how I'd gotten carried away by the moment. "But we really fucked?" he asked. "I really did think it was a dream. A wonderful dream," he added quickly, "not a nightmare." "We really fucked. We really, really fucked." And while I had my concerns, I assured him I had no regrets. "It was -- like -- the most wonderful dream ever. Not like...." But he cut that thought off sharply. "So, maybe I'm not gay?" "Who's to say? I'm not even sure what 'gay' is anymore. What we did sure felt good to me. But, then, so did making it with -- well, never mind who." "You've -- uh -- done it with another girl?" "Yeah, but I don't want to talk about it," I responded a little curtly. Thoughts of Missy still hurt, and I was wrestling with the feeling that I was suddenly no better than Missy. One thing I had to admit was that now that I'd done it with guys a couple of times I certainly wasn't averse to doing it again, if the right guy came along. But I'd be a darn sight more careful! But Missy seemed to have totally abandoned the relationship she and I had shared for so long, and I still couldn't do that, and I remembered how wonderful it had been with her, so warm and loving. Then, too, the thought of Kathy was enough to make me cream, so I wouldn't kick her out of bed, either, or Beth, or Stephanie, if they wanted me. Well, I mean, look what Beth and I had done this morning! Face it, The Stick said, you're a slut! Am NOT! I retorted lamely. I'm, well, more selective than a slut. Like, for example, Missy.... Especially Missy, if she ever changed her mind, I realized suddenly. I still wanted her, even after she'd broken my heart, and I was worried -- terrified for her, dreading what would -- not could, but would -- happen if she didn't at least come to her senses and stop flaunting herself around so. John and I each fell into our own musings. "Are you two all right?" Beth asked, vigorously toweling her hair dry as she stood in the doorway. "We're...," John started. "Confused," I finished for him. "Welcome to the club. At your age that's not uncommon," she responded from her lofty maturity, all of -- what? -- four or maybe five years older? "Not that I'm beyond it myself," she conceded. "Come on, we've got to get downstairs for some breakfast, and for my mom to call your mom, and then we'd better consult with Judy and her mom and draw up a battle plan for tonight." "A battle plan?" I hadn't really thought of that. "You know -- who does what to whom and where and how?" "And when," I added, remembering Judy hadn't set a time yet. "Oh, and she doesn't know about John, either." "What about me?" he asked, and I realized maybe I hadn't filled him in on the weekend's schedule, at least not in detail. "Uh huh. It's going to be a busy day." Beth led the way downstairs. Distracted, and attracted by the thought of the sleepover, I wondered if I'd have to put any clothes on this weekend. I hadn't so far! I was going for a new personal record, but I still had miles to go to beat Beth's program-induced marathon! Who says I'm not competitive? Beth's mom was dressed, but didn't bat an eye at our nudity. After setting out a delicious spread of juice and milk and pancakes and bacon, with butter and real maple syrup hot from the microwave, she went into another room to call my mom. I wanted to hang around while they talked, get some idea of how much trouble I was in, but it was obvious that she didn't want me there, and my stomach echoed the thought. After appeasing my tummy with half the pancakes on my plate I got impish, again, looking down at myself. "Oh dear, I dripped some syrup!" I pointed out the amber drop poised on my nipple to John. "I'd hate to see it go to waste." John may not be the rocket-scientist that Beth is, but he caught on quickly. Without a word he leaned forward and suckled on my tittie, his tongue toying with it. "Yum!" I'd say there was hope for this boy! "Thank you!" I giggled as Beth shook her head slowly from side to side at our shenanigans. Then she dripped -- how careless of her -- on both her boobs! She, who got the job of pouring acid in chemistry class because of her steady hands -- and John and I scrambled for the honor of pleasuring her. It was so thoughtful of her to do it so we each had a tit to suck. After I'd polished off a stack of pancakes, more syrup "accidents" and three strips of bacon, along with juice and milk, it threatened to become a food fight, until I was told to pick up the phone, and my stomach suddenly knotted up,. Right then I wished I hadn't eaten so much. "Hi, Mom," I greeted her fearfully. She sighed. "Dee, I swear, one of these days you'll be the death of me." "I'm sorry." I felt awful. How many times had I heard her say that? "Oh Dee! No! Don't be sorry," she reassured me, and I could hear her concern. "You did the right thing, taking John in hand. It's just that the timing could have been better, but you didn't have any control over that. John needed help. I wouldn't have expected anything less of you, and Mrs. Finch insists she's fine with it." I breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately tensed up again when she asked, "So, did you sleep well last night?" "Uh huh." Oh yeah, just fine, like a rock, if you didn't count boffing John and worrying about the consequences. I wasn't lying, exactly. Thanks to Beth I did sleep well. I was just taking the Fifth Amendment, I told myself. Understand, like most mothers, Mom has near telepathic powers, though distance does seem to weaken them. The less I said the better. The slightest slip and she'd be on me like a duck on a June bug, and the last thing I wanted was to worry her. Still, her voice sounded so good to me. I don't remember the last time I'd been away from her for this long. Well, not really. I mean, I'd said good-bye to her just yesterday morning. I'd had weekends at Missy's that went longer, but somehow this was different. She wasn't just a block or two away if I needed her. I wanted so much to snuggle into her arms and talk with her. I knew, too, this was not the time to ask for another appointment with Dr. Smathers. That would just raise all sorts of red flags and besides, she was miles away, and it was the weekend. "How's John?" she asked. "He's -- okay," I assured her. "Beth and I are trying to keep him steady." "Be good to him. From what Mrs. Finch says he's going through some rough times." It was obviously not a good time to tell her how good I had been to him so far. "How's Carl?" "Oh, he's off sampling college food, doing some peer bonding at the same time, though we don't think this is the school for him. Anyway, he didn't need me there." The Stick took me in hand, and Mom and I chatted a little before signing off. "Have fun at your slumber party, darling." "Thanks, Mom. See you tomorrow." "I love you." I hugged those words to my chest. "I love you, too, Mom." Resolutely I turned my attention to the sleepover at Judy's, and my thoughts turned lustful. My ability to switch focus was getting a real workout. Flexible. I was flexible, I told myself. Mercurial, The Stick countered snidely, to say nothing of horny. We held our war council around the kitchen table, and John got filled in on his role as a representative pubescent male. For a moment he was dubious, but when I pointed out he'd be in the company of an unknown number of horny, curious, presumably naked sixth grade girls, and that maybe this would resolve his sexual ambivalence, his libido took over, his cock rising to the challenge. Was he really gay? I don't think so. But I was getting a nasty suspicion as to the problems that had driven him out of his home, and it made me feel a little sick. Our own plan of action settled, we called Judy and her mom and ironed out any wrinkles they had. The biggest wrinkle was John, of course, but Beth explained he had a useful role to play with show and tell, and Mrs. Liu agreed. She would be home, but not in evidence unless needed. Not counting Judy there'd be ten girls there for us to enlighten. Let's see -- ten girls, plus Judy, plus we three -- fourteen people in all. Wow! Was all I could think. So many, so little time! Apparently Judy had gone a long way toward laying the groundwork for the festivities, judging by how agreeable Mrs. Liu was. In the end our "battle plan" turned out to be no plan at all, though Beth promised some surprises. At the appointed time the three of us arrived on the Lius' doorstep, sleeping bags in hand -- we stopped by my house for mine and I loaned Carl's to John. The only odd thing was a suitcase that Beth had also dug out of her car. Other than that we were unburdened by even clothing. Without shoes we wouldn't even have been served at most fast food joints in town! You know -- no shirt, no shoes, no service? The rule about shirts had been relaxed as Naked In School came in, of course. I guess bare feet are less sanitary than bare whatever else. Judy peeked around the open door until she saw it was me, and that we were already naked. Only then did she pop out into full view of the street, just as naked. She practically climbed me to give me a delicious hug and kiss before dragging us inside. "Hi, Beth. Hi, John," she greeted them just as cheerily, but without the hug. John was attempting to hide his arousal, but it didn't work very well, since he had a hard on that wouldn't quit, and I didn't blame him. Judy is such a delightful little bug! She barely comes up to my shoulder, and she's got no fat. She's not anorexic, just petite. If it weren't for her pecs her chest would be flatter than mine. Her little beige nipples, though, were already aroused. I didn't flatter myself by thinking that was because of me. The whole situation was calculated to stir everyone's hormones to the boiling point. You could count her ribs, her tummy is trim, with a bit of an outie for a belly button. If it weren't for her muscular shoulders and torso she'd be as straight as a stick -- no hips, with her immature little pussy tucked shyly between her thighs. Thanks to my recent development of secondary sexual attributes, I could now state confidently that she has less hair there than I do! She's all bounce and jitter, and she reminds me of what I was like at her age. Not that I'm all that much older, or less bouncy these days, I suppose. I'm just a lot taller and ganglier. And psychologically more mature, of course! Anyway, Judy's been into gymnastics since she was like three years old or something, which explains her physical strength. She's athletic in a graceful way, without the sleekness of a swimmer. I'd heard her mom got tired of having to drag her down off the top of the refrigerator when she -- Judy -- was only two. I heard the last straw had been when she was three and she jumped from the top of a bookcase to grab a ride on a ceiling fan. No bones were broken, but the ceiling fan came down, along with a chunk of the ceiling. I might have tried the same thing at that age but we didn't have a ceiling fan, darn it. "Mom is upstairs. Dad has to work," she explained. "We have this floor and the playroom downstairs. Come on, everyone else is already in here." It was a small house, and maybe that's why the crowd in the living room made me think of a basket of puppies. The couch and chairs were full, each girl sitting primly, knees together, hands in her naked lap. That accounted for six of them. The other four took up a good bit of the floor, even with their legs demurely folded, not spraddled out or folded tailor fashion. Someone must have coached them, probably Mrs. Liu. They all looked up at me with their big, puppy eyes and it was enough to make my heart melt. The fact that they were all so deliciously nude made some other parts of me melt as well. Sixth grade girls are so CUTE! Most of them were flat. A couple had the start of boobs. They all had fresh faces, and smooth baby cheeks -- on the face, I mean. I couldn't really see their other cheeks, but I bet they were smooth and creamy, too. Well, maybe. Esther, being a child of color, her cheeks were more chocolate milk than cream. Maria Sanchez, who I knew from class, trended more toward caramel, all over, with nipples like little raisins. Judy's skin had a vaguely olive cast, to go along with her almond eyes, and her nipples were milk-chocolate kisses. And as you can tell by the food metaphors, I was hungry! Judy had promised yummy stuff, and the house smelled of spicy cooking that had my mouth watering. Anyway, they were all right on the edge of puberty -- Missy had started just about their age, I remembered, and Mickey even earlier. Their delicate little nipples were stiff already, and they bit their lips nervously. One, the smallest one, was hugging a battered stuffed bunny to her undeveloped bosom. It made me want to gather them all into my arms and just hug them, and hug them, and, well, you can guess where I imagined it going from there. I knew most of them by sight, but not by name. I was a little surprised Maria was there, since she'd been in Sex Ed class. I guess she was here to help, or maybe just to join in the fun. "Hi, guys" I greeted them awkwardly. "Hi, Maria. I'm sorry, I'm not sure of the rest of your names. But I'll get you sorted out." "Don't worry, we'll fix that later," Judy announced from beside me, as all of us sort of shuffled ourselves through the doorway. "See, guys, I told you John would be here!" Well, they'd been forewarned. That explained the lack of screams at the sight of John. Blushing furiously, he was still futilely trying to hide his throbbing erection. Beth whispered something to him, and he bashfully revealed his beautiful young cock. The eyes of the girls widened at the sight of it. Oh, were they in for an education! "How 'bout we head downstairs, where there's more room, and food!" Judy suggested. "Maria, would you bring that stuff from the kitchen, please?" The coppery skinned Hispanic ducked past us, while the rest broke from their careful poses, and that was enough to get the chatter going. A couple of the girls latched on to Beth, while Judy and another girl took my hands, and one of the bolder ones took John in hand and we all scampered down to the play room. Ooooo! As we headed down the stairs all those twinkling little butt cheeks made me salivate. The sight of the playroom made me go weak in the knees! And then Maria came dancing down the stairs with a tray of squeeze bottles of cake icing in various colors. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I wasn't sure what they were for. Maybe a food fight? That was a sweet idea.