Selena Kitt - Yank

If my mum and dad found out about my collection of porn in the shed, I knew they'd both kick-off and I'd be sleeping under a bench in the Underground, buying papers to keep me warm. For now though, I was buying papers looking for a job. My parents were on at me to find something-and fast. I didn't get why I had to figure it all out, what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. What was the rush?

Dawn was the problem. Dawn was ruining my life.

Our foreign exchange student, Dawn, was here on some Study Abroad thing. Not that she was really a stranger-Dawn lived across the street from us when I was a kid. We played Five Stones, Red Letter and Conkers on the playground together until she moved away. She was four years older than me, bossy and annoying, but we’d managed to form some sort of friendship at the time.

Now she was back-although her ambassador parents were still doing something in America. Dawn had called my mum and asked specifically to be housed with us. I think she had some sort of nostalgia about the old neighborhood. I crowed about having to share my room, so Mum had turned the office into a place for her. Of course, I’d remembered a gangly blonde with braces and freckles, but the Dawn that showed up on our doorstep had grown up into someone else entirely. In fact, she’d grown up so much, I sort of regretted complaining about sharing my room-but Dawn was like a sister to me, really. I mean, we’d practically grown up together.

Not much had changed, aside from the physical. She was still a brat most of the time, kind of stuck-up and snooty. I thought she would go home during the summer. She was supposed to go back to America for her last year of university, but my parents had made an agreement with hers so she could stay in Surrey for another year.

My parents kept pressuring me to be “more like Dawn.” What, did they want me to get a job at a local health club for the summer and do nothing but work on my tan and my physique? Because that’s all I could see Dawn accomplishing at the moment.

I had honestly hoped to spend some time loafing off-er, finding myself-after I finished school, but no. Apparently, Dawn got the welcome mat, but me, their own flesh and blood son, I got threatened with the boot. I didn't get it.

I shut the back door and looked up at the sky. We didn't get days like this in Surrey very often-so bright and blue and clear. We spent most of our time walking around in a grey haze, looking up at a gauzy film over the sun. Days like today made me remember being a kid, endless summers with no responsibilities, no cares, no worries. So much for that, I thought, flopping the paper down on the patio table and glaring at it.

I sat in one of the folding chairs and took a highlighter out of my pocket. The first thing I circled was a construction company. Maybe I could find something working outside-get a tan, build some muscle. That might lead to getting a girlfriend , I thought hopefully. That got me to thinking about Julie Entwistle, the girl rumoured to wear nothing under her skirts in sixth form. She sat right next to me in English, but I never did see anything-not that I didn't try. For a girl who was supposed to be a slag, she sure kept her legs together a lot.

Thinking about Julie's skirt, and more importantly, what might be found under her skirt, made my jeans uncomfortably tight. I shifted in the chair, shoving at my crotch and turning the page of the newspaper, re-focusing my efforts. The ad that caught my eye read: Exotic dancers wanted to perform at private, solo, and bachelor parties.

I snorted-so much for trying to focus. Now my cock was officially hard. I glanced over at the shed, thinking of the boards my dad stored in there that "might come in handy" some day. They came in handy for me anyway-that’s where I hid my porn collection.

I folded the paper up and tucked it under my arm, heading toward the shed. My dad's toolbox doubled as a step stool and was perfect for sitting on. I dug under the boards, pulling out my meagre collection-two Playboys and a Penthouse, although the latter was a "Letters" edition and the stories were pretty hot. The last one was my favourite, a magazine called Yank, which was way more hardcore than the others. I'd never seen another one before or since, although believe me, I'd looked.

I opened it up to my favourite page, and there she was. Blond, although clearly dyed because her pubes were dark, a full-breasted and full-bodied girl-really unusual for most spreads nowadays where the models were like stick figures. This woman was, well… a woman.

The next best part was the layout itself-a girl all alone on her bed looking at porn. Did girls do that? I loved how she rolled over and spread her legs, revealing that there was nothing under her skirt. She started masturbating, and would you look at that, next page, here comes her boyfriend. And the next thing you know, she's sucking him off. God, how I wished it was that easy. Hi there, whoops, didn't mean to interrupt, but since I'm here, zzziiiip, flop, here's this hard cock you can suck…

I unzipped my jeans and tugged them down a little, slipping my hand into my boxers. Nowhere near as big as the guy positioning his cock at her pink little hole (I loved that picture, her fingers spreading herself open for him like that. Gah! Did girls do that?) but respectable enough-nice and thick, and most definitely stiff. She did it for me, every time. I started masturbating, my eyes skipping from the wet pink of her cunt to her thick, dark pink nipples. I spent some time there, wanking away and staring at the slit between her legs. She spread it open with both hands, and there was a little hole there, right where I wanted to slide my cock, a small dark hollow leading to heaven.

I got myself good and worked up before starting to turn the next page, because it was my favourite, and it was the image I always came to-her arse up in the air, his cum sliding down her arsehole and cunt. I was looking forward to that image, still staring between her legs. I only stopped for a moment, breathless, to turn the page, and I saw something that made my cock jump and my heart race. There was writing in the margin, near the page number. An arrow toward the girl (God, look how that thick cum slid down that pink slit!) and the words, "She looks like me."

That was Dawn's handwriting-the fat, curly letters, the heart over the "i." Dawn had been looking at my porn? Why, I wondered? If she wanted to get me in trouble, she could have taken it to my mum. That would be just like her. Instead, she’d written in the margins. And what she'd written! I flushed. It was true, the girl looked remarkably like our foreign exchange student-the dyed blonde hair, the full body, the mischievous eyes, the slanted smile-that was Dawn. Was she just making an observation? Was she implying that I lusted after her?

I didn't have any more time to think about it. Someone was knocking on the shed door! I stood, tucking my cock back in and zipping up, shoving the magazines back under the pile of boards.

"David!" It was Dawn. Of course, who else? My parents wouldn't be home for hours-it was only ten in the morning.

"What?" I called, trying to sound impatient. I tucked my paper back under my arm, grabbed a can of insect spray off the shelf and opened the door.

She was standing there in a white bikini, the flesh of her cleavage spilling over the top. My cock, with barely enough chance to wane as it was, jumped to life again at the sight.

"Jesus, Dawn!" I made a face. "Put some clothes on.”

"It's gonna be sunny and warm all day." She put her hands on her hips and drew my eyes there. "I'm spending my time catching rays!"