admin
17 Mart 2023, 13:29
Parts of the story refers to memories, related by the main character, when they were all underage but there is no sex when they were underage. They are all over 18 in this story. The characters, location etc are completely fictitious.
* * * * *
If you know anything about California, especially Southern California, you know that Blythe, California is one of the hottest places in North America, second only to Needles and Death Valley.
Me and my two girlfriends grew up in this hot hellhole and since we were pretty much born here, this was home. My name is Chrissie. With my two other girlfriends, Marcie and Cindy, we were always together hanging out, getting in trouble, comparing notes about guys, the usual stuff.
Marcie was fast-talking and fearless; she never missed a thing. She was able to talk herself into, or out of, almost anything. Marcie had shortish brown hair and big pretty brown eyes. She was thin and hyper, no ass to speak of but she had a nice pair of boobs.
Cindy was almost the opposite. She was little on the chubby side with small breasts; poor thing. She had blond hair but did have a cute face with big full lips. Along with those lips came the tendency to say what ever came into her head, most of the time without thinking about it first.
Marcie and Cindy always called me the "pretty one". I was quiet, with light brown hair and big green eyes, and I have to admit, with bigger boobs than Marcie and Cindy put together.
About 3 or 4 years ago, I think Marcie was 14, she befriended this guy down the street from her house. Marcie would just wander the neighborhood being her typical restless self, just looking for something to do, and one day, a couple of blocks from her house, she hears music. It sounds like "live" music, not the radio or a CD. It's just a single guitar.
Marcie follows the sound to a non-de-script house and in Marcie's fearless manner, just walks in.
There sitting on a stool, is a guy just playing guitar. Blues guitar, I guess (he would later call it "R
* * * * *
If you know anything about California, especially Southern California, you know that Blythe, California is one of the hottest places in North America, second only to Needles and Death Valley.
Me and my two girlfriends grew up in this hot hellhole and since we were pretty much born here, this was home. My name is Chrissie. With my two other girlfriends, Marcie and Cindy, we were always together hanging out, getting in trouble, comparing notes about guys, the usual stuff.
Marcie was fast-talking and fearless; she never missed a thing. She was able to talk herself into, or out of, almost anything. Marcie had shortish brown hair and big pretty brown eyes. She was thin and hyper, no ass to speak of but she had a nice pair of boobs.
Cindy was almost the opposite. She was little on the chubby side with small breasts; poor thing. She had blond hair but did have a cute face with big full lips. Along with those lips came the tendency to say what ever came into her head, most of the time without thinking about it first.
Marcie and Cindy always called me the "pretty one". I was quiet, with light brown hair and big green eyes, and I have to admit, with bigger boobs than Marcie and Cindy put together.
About 3 or 4 years ago, I think Marcie was 14, she befriended this guy down the street from her house. Marcie would just wander the neighborhood being her typical restless self, just looking for something to do, and one day, a couple of blocks from her house, she hears music. It sounds like "live" music, not the radio or a CD. It's just a single guitar.
Marcie follows the sound to a non-de-script house and in Marcie's fearless manner, just walks in.
There sitting on a stool, is a guy just playing guitar. Blues guitar, I guess (he would later call it "R