“Spit or swallow?” Tiffany asked. She and her friend Vickie were doing homework together. As usual, their banter in between solving algebra problems turned to talk of boys and sex.

“Neither,” Vickie replied. “Facial. It’s good for the skin.”

“Yeah, that’s what boys want you to believe. Seriously? Too gross!”

“So, you’re a spitter?”

Without hesitating Tiffany answered, “I’ll let a guy do it on my boobs. Not the face. And for the right guy… I’ll swallow. But only if he’s serious about me.”

“Serious or not,” Vickie said, “I ain’t tasting that spunk. Besides, boys want to think they’re porn stars when they’re getting some, why not feed their egos a little? It keeps them coming back.”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll tell everyone how much of a slut you are?”

“Doesn’t matter. If a guy’s going to say that, he’ll say so no matter what you do. You’re either a slut because you let him cover your face or because you sucked him dry.”

Vickie’s mom called up to them announcing dinner would be ready soon and that she needed her daughter’s help. Tiffany knew that was her cue to leave and began packing up her things. As they walked down the hallway, they passed Brett’s room and Tiffany glanced inside the open doorway hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend’s older brother. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait,” Tiffany paused and turned around. “I should use your bathroom. You go ahead and I’ll be down in a minute.”

Tiffany walked to the bathroom turned at the door and, certain that her friend had gone downstairs, crept back to Brett’s bedroom. He was a year ahead of them, having graduated last spring, and was now a freshman at college. Although nothing had ever happened between them, Tiffany always wondered if some of his furtive glances were an indication Brett had some romantic interest in her. She stood at the doorway to his bedroom surveying the masculine clutter of sports trophies, competition ribbons, medals and plaques. The walls were covered with posters of athletes interspersed with a few swimsuit models.

She sighed and was about to leave when she spied something poking out from under Brett’s bed. Could it be? Taking a few steps forward, Tiffany bent down and snatched a men’s skin magazine out and held it in front of her. She flipped open a couple of pages, but was startled by Vickie calling up to her. Panicking, she fumbled to cram the tattered magazine into her backpack and then hurried out and down the stairs. It made no sense, keeping the magazine. She should have thrown it back under the bed, but she was curious. What sort of things turned Brett on? And did she have any chance with him?

Thoughts about the magazine smoldered as Tiffany walked the half dozen or so blocks to her home. The magazine was called Mighty Neighborly with a headline that screamed Young and Eager! Girls IN Your Neighborhood in bright yellow block letters. She’d only seen a few pages, but could recognize herself in some of the girls in the pictures. Many of them were her own age.

She pictured Brett lying on his bed flipping through the glossy pages. His free hand would glide over his hairless chest, down his rippled abs to pause just above his groin. Would the pictures make him hard? Or would he need a little more encouragement? How would he begin? Would he pull at his heavy sac, gently kneading his overheated balls? Maybe he’d rub a fingertip against the flaccid flesh of his cock, making it swell up, quickly doubling and tripling in size?

Tiffany had no idea how big Brett was down there, although she had taken her fair share of surreptitious peeks at his groin whenever he was around. From what she’d seen, she was willing to be generous with her imagination, granting him an above average-sized cock. Not ridiculously porn star-sized, like some of the ones she and her friends had giggled about seeing on internet sites. Three-handers, Vickie had called them. They were the kind you need to invite a friend over to help you with.

No. Brett would be long and thick, but not monstrously so. And Tiffany had no interest in sharing him. She’d manage to satisfy him just fine on her own, thanks very much. In her mind’s eye she pictured him stroking his hard cock and letting her watch as he flipped the pages of his magazine.

She would tease him with questions to find out what he liked. “Blonde or brunette? Tits or ass? Guy on top or bottom? Doggy-style or reverse cowgirl?” He’d get harder, looking at his favourite pictures and listening to her voice. Soon he’d beg her to touch him.

Of course, she’d refuse. It would be far better to torture him a little first. Make him hunger for her touch. Could he come in front of her first? He’d want to hold out as long as he could, but… Everyone said young men were eager, coming fast and then resurrecting quickly so that they were ready for more.

The thought of testing that theory with Brett as her subject made Tiffany feel warm and tingly inside. Sadly, she had to set those thoughts aside as she walked through the front door of her home. She raced up the stairs and dumped her backpack in her room.

Dinner with her family was the usual routine. She helped get food onto the table while breaking up squabbles between her little sister and brother. Her mother inquired about her day. When Tiffany mentioned being at Vickie’s, her mom asked if Brett had been home.

“I don’t know,” Tiffany answered. “Why?”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I guess, maybe.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, kinda.”

Her father looked up from his plate. “Kinda liking a boy is what leads to being kinda pregnant.”

“No one’s getting pregnant, Will!” Tiffany’s mom exclaimed. She shook her head and tried to quiet her younger brood who were laughing and teasing their older sister about being in love and having a baby.

The conversation moved on and Tiffany drifted in and out, caught between family discussions and thinking about Brett and his magazine. She poked at her food as she wondered again about his physique. Would he be circumcised or uncut? How would he respond to her playing with his foreskin?

After dinner there were dishes and kitchen clean up. Tiffany’s mom assigned prepping breakfast and lunches for the next day. Then she suddenly remembered that laundry needed sorting and folding. It seemed there would be no end to chores and drudgery.

Finally her mother ran out of tasks for them to do and Tiffany could be alone. But first, she had to kick her little sister out of her room. “I’ve told you before to stay out of my room.”

“I wanted to borrow some of your nail polish.”

“Last time you did that you left the tops off and they all dried out.”

Her sister whined and pouted, but Tiffany didn’t want to argue. She scooped up a handful of older colours she no longer liked much from her vanity and thrust them at her sister. “Take these, you little pest, and don’t come back for any more.”

“You’re only being mean because you know Brett is out K-I-S-S-ing with college girls instead of you.”

“Out!” Tiffany shoved her sister through the open door and shut it behind her. She made certain it was locked before reaching into her backpack for Brett’s tattered smut mag. Just holding it in her hands sent a nervous thrill through her body. Why? It wasn’t like she held the key to Brett’s soul in these few pages with their naughty pictures.

Tiffany flipped open the magazine and began searching the pages inside. Maybe looking at these pictures wasn’t a key to Brett as much as it was about understanding herself. Many of the girls pictured were slender or downright skinny, but a few were more curvy like her.

All of the girls were smiling, no sullen teens or dejected young adults here. Many of them looked right at the camera as though seeing through the pages and into the eyes of whoever was holding the magazine. Their bios made them seem fresh and hopeful. Not Pollyanna, but certainly ready to take on the world and grab their share of fun and adventure in between classes at their local college or shifts as sales clerks at some mall boutique or big box store. These girls liked boys. A lot. And they shared plenty matter-of-fact reminiscences to back that up.

On occasion, some of them even liked girls. Tiffany wondered what that would be like. Would she have the nerve to try making out with another girl? What if Brett was into that and wanted to watch two girls? There were a few pictorials catering to that fantasy.

Tiffany lingered over one photo spread that featured an athletic young stud gleefully enjoying the sight of two young women kissing and touching one another over top of him. If she squinted and used her imagination he could easily pass for Brett. They were using one of those retro instant cameras to snap pix of each other. Then Tiffany did a double-take, not believing her eyes. One of the two girls looked like Bille Watson, a girl from her school who had been a few years ahead of them.

She would be in her second or third year of college now. A perennial bad-girl, people often gossiped behind Billie’s back, and sometimes even to her face. Could this really be her? That might explain why Brett had this particular magazine.

Tiffany checked her door again, making sure it was locked, and then stretched out on her bed with the magazine. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and undid her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her nipples thrust out avidly, like the chubby dark-haired girl’s in the magazine. The diminutive blonde Billie look-alike stared out at Tiffany, daring her to join them as she raked her teeth against the brunette’s breasts.

Wetting her lips, Tiffany lifted her left breast to her mouth and teased her nipple. She shivered at the sensation and sucked harder as her eyes drank in each picture of the trio playing together.

A flip of the page and the positions changed. Both girls were taking turns sucking the stud’s hard cock as he tongued and fingered each of them from behind. Tiffany undid her jeans and wriggled out of them. She kept her pale yellow panties on and slipped her fingers underneath the tight fabric just like the young stud was doing.

Her fingers glided past the thin patch of dark pubic hair she’d so carefully trimmed, keeping herself neatly groomed for special moments. She felt the stirring ache of arousal as her fingers slid between her legs. Her touch was light and dreamy.

Rolling onto her side, Tiffany snatched at one of her pillows and stuffed it between her thighs. She flipped the page; the trio had rearranged themselves. Now the brunette had her panties off and was poised over Billie’s face as the stud gripped her ass and spread her cheeks open.

Tiffany rolled her own panties down—got them as far as midway down her thighs and returned her hand between her legs. She teased herself—felt the tension increase. Then she squeezed her legs together on the pillow—pressed down with her hand.

Her fingers came up wet and she rubbed her nipples, smearing them with her juices. She traced circles around the sensitive flesh and gazed at the goosebumps that had risen up on her breasts.

Again she squeezed her legs together as she brought her fingers to her mouth. She parted her lips and drank in the scent and taste of her sex. Imagined what it would be like to taste Billie’s pussy while feeling the older girl’s teasing tongue pressing against her own flesh. Thinking of it made her more wet.

Her fingertips slid over the slick flesh surrounding her clit. They danced a few quick circles around her sensitive nub before swooping in for a few shivering strokes followed by more slow orbits. So delicious.

She let one digit stray between the swollen lips of her pussy. Her legs tightened around the pillow as she imagined her finger was Billie’s tongue bullying its way inside her. Reaching behind with her other hand she swooned at the thought of Brett spreading her cheeks wide and setting his tongue to work as well.

Tiffany jammed two fingers inside her pussy as she eyed the penetration pictures. First the brunette girl. Then Billie. Then back. Only deeper now.

She ached to feel that same sensation, being filled, the sweet strokes of Brett’s hard cock, then emptiness as he withdrew to sample Billie’s wet slit. Desire and relief mixing with the sudden plunge of his return, making her quiver.

Tiffany began to shake. She squeezed her legs tightly around the pillow. Her fingers on one hand tensed inside, pressing deep, as her other hand rubbed her clit furiously.

Her eyes were shut tightly. She no longer needed the pictures. She could see Billie in her mind’s eye. The blonde girl alternated between lapping at Tiffany’s pussy and licking Brett’s sweet, hard cock as it thrust into her.

A small moan rose up in Tiffany’s throat. She pressed her lips tightly shut, stifling the sounds of her pleasure. Her body tensed. Her hands worked more urgently—coaxing her body, pleading for release.

Just. A little. More.

She gasped. Shuddered. Her breathing was ragged—her legs tight against the pillow. She let her hands go still and basked in the sensation as she shook some more.

Tiffany lay still a few minutes, enjoying the flood of relief that swept over her body. Her muscles began to relax. She took a deep breath and stretched her legs out. Her hands were soft, feeling the gentle curve of her belly, tracing the fullness of her breasts. She put her fingers to her mouth for one last taste.

As she opened her eyes, she reached for the magazine. Tried to turn the page, but found the next two pages were stuck together. Brett? He must have liked the final shots in that pictorial.

A naughty notion took hold of her. Tiffany got up, grabbed her cellphone and returned to her bed to take a few naked selfies, being sure to get the magazine into the shots. She sent the two best pics to her desktop printer and then slipped them between the pages of the pictorial.

If he liked looking at Billie he could easily dream of her too. She’d make sure the magazine found its way back under his bed so she could imagine him stroking off to her own pictures.