The 8x10 of Darcy O'Dell Ch. 01

It was in excellent condition: no scratches or initials carved in it and didn't need refinishing. My dad had cleaned it up and waxed and polished the wood to bring out its original patina. Perfect for me. I took it apart and loaded it into my car.

* * *

Tim was the model roommate. That's why it was an unpleasant shock when he got serious with his girlfriend and moved in with her the following year. Yes, I was happy for them, but it upset my plans. My employment situation was stable, but I wasn't earning much money. Any length of time where I ended up paying the full rent was going to be financially painful. I still had three months on the lease.

Guess who called when he heard Tim was moving out? Steven. He was ready to get away from Belmont. I think that environment was scaring away girls who wanted something quieter and more private. He had dropped out of school and was scraping around for work. I was worried about him having the rent money each month.

It was a given that I was going to hear him screwing women from his harem. Was that a good or bad thing? At least it wouldn't be Darcy; I'm not sure I could have taken that. In fact, Iknow I couldn't have.

Steven had been living with me for a few months when he met an older woman: Francine was almost thirty! I remember the first night he brought her over to Belmont so we could meet her. She only got a few feet inside before insisting they go over to her place. One look was all she needed; good thing he wasn't still living there.

Her parents lived in an affluent part of town. She had a separate guest house on their property—quite a nice setup. I would often run into them at clubs or around town. A few times I went to the movies with them on double dates. Francine wasn't all that attractive, but she had an air of maturity and financial stability that was alluring. Steven started paying his rent on time.

PART 7: The Night of the Party (1983)

September rolled around, and it was time again for the annual back-to-school party at Belmont: a keg of Lone Star beer, burgers cooking in the back yard, and loud music. I was hoping to get lucky. Sadly, I was starting to match Artie's lengthy streaks of going to bed alone.

The party was well underway that hot Saturday night. I had just filled my cup from the keg and was hurrying back to an intense parlor game upstairs. The front door was open and guests were streaming in and out, so I didn't take notice of the two women who had just stepped onto the front porch. I heard a scream.

"Hayward! Jeff Hayward!"

Holy shit—it was Darcy and Brenda!

"Darcy O'Dell! Come here."

She practically leaped into my arms. I got a huge hug and felt her breasts press into my chest. Plus a kiss, a very sexy kiss—my first ever from Darcy. A long-neck beer was in one hand, and she seemed a little tipsy. She wasn't wearing one of the musky scents that were her trademark; it smelled more like expensive department store perfume.

"You remember Brenda, don't you? Have you two seen each other since that first day at City Park?"

I don't think we had—the candy cane ice cream woman. I got an unexpected hug from Brenda.

She whispered in my ear: "Darcy was really hoping you'd be here tonight." A message had been delivered.

My eyes were drawn to Darcy's clothes, as usual. She wore a slinky, dark blue collared blouse with three-quarter-length sleeves that were cutout at the top, exposing her tanned shoulders and upper arms. Its silky drape traced the thrust of her bosom. The ethnic print skirt was pure Dress Me Up: blue and green with accents of rust and gold. It was a little shorter than her usual hemlines. Her flat sandals were simple, made from hand-tooled leather.

"Is the party beer still on ice in the horse trough out back?" Darcy asked. Her blond hair was longer with different highlights. What looked like braids were actually several clumps of hair adorned with small, colorful ribbons.

"You bet. And we have the usual keg. Follow me."

We walked through the house and out into the back yard. All the other guys were ecstatic to see Darcy. She dispensed hugs all around but no kisses. Brenda was dressed for success: very low-rise jeans and a scoop neck crop top with no bra. I couldn't help but look myself. After opening another beer, Darcy asked if we could move to the side porch. Brenda didn't come with us.

"Darcy, you're not going to believe this, but we finally got the porch ceiling reinforced and put up the swing."

"Oh my god, you're kidding! You don't know how many times I've wanted to use that swing."

She plopped down on the wooden seat and started to push herself to and fro. Her legs jutted out as the skirt revealed more of her thighs.

"Wheee! I haven't done this since I was a little girl."

I was rapt at a sight I never expected to see: Darcy O'Dell pumping the old swing back and forth on the Belmont side porch.

The swing slowed down eventually, and Darcy scooted toward one end. She patted the spot next to her on the seat.

"Sit with me."

I wasn't sure where things were headed, but I readily complied.

"Darcy, that is one smashing outfit you have on. Classy and sexy and different. Like always."

"Jeff, you make me feel good when you compliment me on my clothes. You always notice. In fact, I was thinking of you when I picked out this ensemble to wear tonight." A sexy look came my way.

Darcy opened her purse and took out a joint. That was definitely a first for her. She gave it to me to light.

"You don't mind if I rest my feet on you? I've been standing all day."

She swung both legs up and laid them across my thighs. Her colorful skirt rode up to a provocative height. Under better lighting I probably could have seen her panties.

"So, Darcy, tell me: what have you been up to?" "I've been working at Sanger-Harris. Much better income there. The commissions are divine. Initially menswear, but I'm in the women's dresses department now. I still buy most of what I wear outside of work from Dress Me Up—except for the lingerie."

She shot me another flirtatious look and shifted her feet so they were a little closer to my crotch. "I'm up for a personal shopper position there. They think I could attract younger, affluent women to the designer lines."

After we shared a few tokes, there was a jarringly abrupt shift in the conversation.

"So what did Steven tell you about our breakup?"

It felt like someone had rolled a live grenade out onto the porch.

"He said that... you two had... grown apart. Or something like that."

"I see. That's true. It was right after I caught him cheating on me with some tramp friend of my sister. Inour apartment. While Connie was fucking her boyfriend, Steven took this slut intomy bed. I don't know who made the first move, not that it matters.

"When I walked in on them he actually said 'This is not what it looks like.' I guess there's not much else you can say in a situation like that.

"I was smoldering mad. I told him he'snever putting his dick in me again after it's been inher cunt! A roving eye is one thing, but a roving cock is where I draw the line."

Hooh! Didn't expect to be havingthat conversation when I went to the party. I'dnever heard her use language like that—ever. Darcy took a long swig of her beer as she leaned back to gauge my reaction to her story. I struggled to find something appropriate to say.

"Darcy, that isawful. Inexcusable. I always wondered if there was more to it than he was letting on. I'm so sorry for you."

She put her legs down, scooted over, and put her arm around me. "Brenda drove us here in her car tonight. In case I wanted to get a ride home from someone else." She rested her head against mine. "Do you still have your Mustang?"

I could barely get out the word "yes," knowing a meteor was about to come crashing down on our best laid plans—once she found out Steven's latest address was the same as mine.

"Then I'd like to go back to your place now."

I was paralyzed into speechlessness with the piece of information I had to reveal. I finally blurted it out.

"Steven is my roommate now."

Her expression told me she hadn't heard. I was dying inside. I felt like I could explode into tiny particles. The opportunity I had dreamed and obsessed about since the day I met Darcy was sinking into the depths like theTitanic.

"I didn't know that." A long pause followed. "But it doesn't matter. It really doesn't."

She leaned in and gave me a long, sultry kiss.

"I need to tell Brenda we're leaving now."

I was in a daze as we made our way to the back yard. Brenda shot me a knowing glance as Darcy whispered the news to her. She pointed to me, then to Darcy, and signaled thumbs-up. I remembered what she had said that first day in the park: if I wanted Darcy, I'd have to take her. And her comment about Steven being allergic to monogamy.

Several of my single buddies were hovering around Brenda, each vying for her attention. None of them seemed bad enough for her. She waved goodbye to us. Darcy had been at the party less than thirty minutes.

* * *

On the drive back to my (and Steven's) place, I was panicking with lust, thinking about what was going to happen when we got behind closed doors. I was praying that Steven was staying at Francine's that night. Darcy seemed nonchalant, chatting away and doing that conversational touching thing that women do when they want the guy to see a big green light.

Every step creaked loudly as we headed up to the apartment. I cautiously opened the front door.

"Anybody home? Steven, are you here? Yoo-hoo."

The only light on was in the kitchen, possibly a good sign. I told Darcy to stay quiet while I went around the corner to see if Steven had his bedroom door closed. It was open and his room was dark. I nearly collapsed with relief.

"OK, the coast is clear."

Darcy gave me a quick kiss. "Do you have any sodas? I'd like one if you do."

I got out two Dr. Peppers while she disappeared into the bathroom. I put my lamp on its lowest setting and opened the windows. There was a slight breeze outside that occasionally moved the shades, but it was still warm.

Darcy came into my bedroom, closed the door, and turned the lock. She walked very slowly toward me, kicking off one sandal, sending it skittering across the hardwood floor.

"Just you and me now, Hayward," she said, kicking off the other sandal.

I told her how sexy her blouse looked with the cut-out sleeves. "It almost seems like it's about to fall right off your shoulders."

"Or maybe your tore it trying to undress me too quickly," she teased.

She put her bare feet on top of my boots and her arms around my neck. The kiss that followed was fiery and tender at the same time. She melted into my body: knees, thighs, stomach, and chest. She felt so soft, like every muscle in her body had surrendered.

Darcy leaned back and looked down at our feet.

"Keep up with me, Hayward. I'm already barefoot. Let me help you out of those boots. Sit down over there." She pointed to the fold-down front seat on the student desk.

As she leaned over to grab the toe and heel of my boot, she commented on the only real piece of furniture in the room.

"That's a beautiful student desk. Are you going to teach me penmanship later?"

We laughed as she tugged at my other boot. Even in the dim light I could see more cleavage than she's usually comfortable revealing. When my boots and socks were on the floor, she lifted up her skirt so she could straddle me.

"This room could get steamy. You may want to take off your shirt."

Darcy unfastened each button, eventually adding my shirt to the pile of clothes on the floor. She held her arms out loosely to the side and looked seductively at me.

"I'm feeling a little warm up top myself. Can you undo my front?"

The buttons were hidden behind a placket, but I figured it out. She opened up her blouse but kept it on.

Darcy was wearing a striking, black lace, demi-cup bra; it barely covered her areolas. I had only seen something like it in men's magazines, the ones that feature models in—and out of—lingerie. She had mesmerizing cleavage; it was the sexiest bra I'd ever been that close to. Many women I knew then didn't wear one; or if they did, it was dreary like the bras their mothers wore.

Some primal desire was triggered as I watched her fondle and squeeze her lace-covered breasts.

"That bra is astonishing. Can you keep it on a little while longer?"

"Sure, no problem. I look better in this compared to my boobs hanging loose," she joked. She ran both thumbs up under the shoulder straps and jiggled her cups.

"Feel the lace. Isn't it beautiful?"

I caressed her bra, feeling the soft flesh it contained. She let out a groan as her nipples stiffened. How many times had I imagined having my hands right where they were at that moment! I was in heaven.

"If you like the bra, then you'll like the panties. They're a matching set. Want to see for yourself?"

I lifted her off my lap, and we both stood up. Were we heading over to the bed now? Her bra performed a graceful bounce when she sat back down on the front seat of the desk instead. I guess not. She slowly eased up her skirt.

"Darcy, you look like a schoolgirl sitting at that desk. Are you trying to seduce the principal?"

We both laughed, but a strange look came over her face. And her body language changed subtly. She lowered her head and looked up at me with mock innocent eyes, squirming on the seat and shifting her feet around nervously. She played dangerously with the hem of her skirt. Darcy spoke in a childlike, squeaky voice that I'd never heard her use before.

"I've been bad, haven't I? Is that why I got sent to the principal's office? Are you the new principal, Mr. Hayward?"

I felt like a rookie batter who had been brushed back by a 100-mph inside fastball his first time at the plate. The little ribbons in her hair only added to her juvenile appearance. I wasn't sure how to proceed.

"I know I've been sent down here before, Mr. Hayward. To be punished. But I don't like being paddled. Is there something else you want me to do instead?"

I felt like another person was inhabiting my body when I spoke to her.

"Miss O'Dell, you do have quite a record of disciplinary problems. You're a senior now, so you should know better. Don't expect to get off easy this time. What is your normal punishment?"

Darcy squirmed some more in her seat. "I open up my top for him. So he can see my bra. Like this."

Darcy slowly parted the front of her blouse and thrust out her lacy brassiere. Her eyelashes fluttered, seeming to ask if that was going to be enough.

"Miss O'Dell, you certainly have good taste in lingerie. And the fit is professional. Now, that may have worked in the past, but clearly that punishment hasn't changed your behavior. I'm going to need more."

"Do you want me to lift up my skirt, Mr. Hayward?"

"Go ahead, Miss O'Dell. Don't be shy."

My heart was pounding at an alarming rate. Her "innocent" eyes watched me carefully as the skirt moved away from her knees. Some invisible force pushed me down to the floor.

"Miss O'Dell, it's very dim in here. I need to move closer so I can see better."

Darcy leaned back and moved her rump to the edge of the seat. I ran my hands up the sides of her thighs and pulled the matching panties down past her knees. I didn't take them all the way off; I left them around her ankles.

That same invisible force made me lift up her legs over my head, spread open her thighs, and move my face closer to her kitty. She rested her heels on my back. I could feel the dampness of the panties against my skin.

"Miss O'Dell, I've had my eye on you for some time now."

"Oh, Mr. Hayward, I don't think I'm... very fresh... down there. I just had P.E., and... and I skipped taking a shower. I didn't want the other girls to see me naked. I know I'm not supposed to do that. Am I in more trouble now?"

The unwanted voice of Steven bragging about what a great pussy eater he was invaded my reverie. Well, screw him. I felt pretty confident about my abilities in that area. I leaned in closer.

Her lips were glistening in the dim light. A soft, blond down covered her mound. The perfume on her thighs mingled with the strong musk from her sex, an intoxicating combination that recalled humid summers when night-blooming flowers spread their fragrance. I had to have a taste.

Darcy let out a howl when my tongue went up inside her. She grabbed the edge of the wooden seat with both hands, turning her knuckles white. The neighbors halfway down the block probably heard her.

The rational part of my brain shut down due to sheer overload; it was pure animal from that point on. Her nectar was hot and slippery as I sucked on her wet lips and teased her opening with my tongue. As much as I had fantasized about doing every possible sexual activity with Darcy, this was the one most cherished and intimate.

She moved her pelvis against my mouth in slow, short thrusts, moaning, calling out my name. I varied my tongue movements to see what she enjoyed most. Surprisingly, everything—it was the variety and randomness of my oral touch that produced the loudest reactions from her.

It was probably that night when I realized how much I loved to go down on a woman. It has to be the most intense personal sexual stimulation I know of that doesn't involve touching me anywhere. Every part of my body was glowing with lust, like iron in a blacksmith's forge.

All five senses were supercharged. The feel of her sweaty thighs against my cheeks, her satisfied baying, her earthy aroma. I savored the taste of her accelerating arousal. And when I glanced up, I saw her heaving bosom, flexing tummy, and hands holding on for dear life.

As the end approached, Darcy started to slip off the seat. I propped her up, putting my palms under her thighs. She grasped the top of the wooden backrest behind her. I heard my name called out repeatedly when she went over the falls. Her climax coated my tongue as ragged shrieks filled the room. The dogs at the house behind us started to bark.

I had just performed oral sex on Darcy O'Dell's beautiful, wet pussy—to completion. I don't know which one of us was more overwhelmed at that point. Our recovery was slow and gentle. I kissed her softly, all around her thighs and kitty. Her hands caressed my hair. She spoke to me in a low voice.

"Ireally liked that. You don't know how much I needed it. I've dreamed about you doing that to me—for a long time. It was ten times better than I imagined."

I lifted her legs back over my head, cradling them in one arm as I slipped her panties off with my other hand.

"That will cost you a below-the-waist garment, Hayward. Stand up."

Easier said than done. I was as dazed as if I had come myself.

"Come closer. Let me unzip those jeans for you. They must be feeling uncomfortably hot right now."

As soon as Darcy had my jeans past my knees, she straightened up while I stepped free of them. She sat down and stared at my boxers where my aching erection was throbbing and soaking the fabric. Darcy touched her fingers lightly at the waistband and raised her eyes to watch my reaction as she brushed her hand down over my hardness. It was like a jolt of electricity. I groaned as my cock twitched wildly and a spurt of precum leaked out.

"Are you OK, Mr. Hayward?" she asked, twisting around on the seat innocently.

That strange person who had been inhabiting my body growled at her. "Miss O'Dell! I'm supposed to be the one doing the touching. You get up and go over there and put both hands on the wall. Now."