The Lake House Lessons 01

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A virgin's life is changed forever at the lake house.
8.6k words
4.67
180.4k
149

Part 1 of the 12 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 04/04/2012
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JayDavid
JayDavid
651 Followers

Friday and Saturday

It is a cliché of the high school movie that the social structure is rigid, and it is almost impossible to change your status. That once you are classified as a nerd, a jock, a stoner, or a popular kid, you are locked into that status for four years barring something like getting super powers. As a nerd and social outcast, I had always hoped that this wasn't true, but as my senior year came to an end, I had pretty much accepted my lack of social status and hoped that I could start fresh in college.

My marginal position in the pecking order at North High School was not surprising on one hand—I was valedictorian, editor of the school newspaper, shy and socially awkward—and my one attempt to ask a girl out on a date in sophomore year was met by stunned silence and laughter, followed by days of giggling and pointing by most of my classmates. On the other hand, my older sister Sarah was beautiful, the most popular girl in her class, and dominated the social life of the school when she was a senior. If I had been a different person, I probably could have ridden to social acceptability on her coat tails. But when she was a senior, I was just a lowly freshman, small, skinny and shy, and never capitalized on her status in any way.

At the end of my junior year, I had the late growth spurt that my dad always promised, but which I never believed would happen. I grew 6 inches, and once I got over the pain, I started to swim a lot in our pool and at the gym. As a result, the little scrawny freshman became a 6'1", reasonably in shape, senior. But it was as if the three prior years had created a lens that prevented anyone from seeing me as anything but what I had always been. And one other thing—when you are a teenaged boy who has had zero luck with girls, and a laptop, and minimal parental supervision, you watch a lot of porn. Based on that, I could tell that my male equipment was, to say the least, fairly substantial. But I could not walk around school with my cock hanging out, so it didn't help me charm the ladies.

Despite my physical changes, I remained introverted and utterly lacking in confidence. I was afraid of girls, and could hardly speak to any of them, and the prettier they were, the more I feared them. Of course, in reality, the really pretty ones didn't even know I existed. Instead, I kept to myself and my two close friends, Fred and Gina. Yes, Gina was a girl, but she and I had been friends forever, and she didn't really do anything to act like the other girls. She wore baggy clothing, no makeup and got her hair cut at the same barber that I did. None of had been on a date, or to a big high school party. Instead, we spent time together, doing things like math league and science fairs, talking, playing video games and on the Internet, pretending that was enough for us, and what everybody else seemed to be doing for "fun," like drinking, smoking weed, dating or going to parties, was beneath us.

It was the end of my senior year, late on the afternoon of the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. I had just returned home from the coffee shop where I had been hanging out with Gina. We had a long discussion about a British TV show that we both liked, but never agreed about, and after that discussion petered out, we left, with vague plans to hang out over the long weekend. There was, I had heard, a huge party that night at a football player's house, but as usual, I was not invited, and had convinced myself that I didn't care to waste time with the morons in my class.

Instead of getting ready to go out, I was, as I often was, in my room, wasting time on my computer. I was in all AP classes and had taken the exams earlier in May, so the next month of school before graduation was going to be pretty light—a few fun projects, some final newspaper things, including passing the reins to next year's staff, and a few easy finals. And writing my graduation speech, in which I was planning on ripping my classmates for the way they had excluded me and my fellow nerds and other social pariahs.

I looked out my window to our pool and could see Sarah, home from college, and three of her friends, Ariel, Beth and Cara, standing outside the pool in their bathing suits, drinking beers and laughing. This had been one of my truly guilty pleasures over the years, watching a parade of hot girls swimming outside my window. My sister's friends were always the best looking girls in the school, and I admit to having jerked off more than once while watching them cavort in the pool. I remember once in ninth grade even seeing a girl's bikini top come off, which kept my fantasy world going for weeks.

I kept watching the girls out my window. Ariel, almost as tall as me, blonde and lightly tanned, with broad shoulders from her volleyball playing and clearly intense workouts, nice sized breasts being held up by her patterned, multicolored, bikini top, and long, athletic legs. Beth, shorter, with dark curly hair and olive skin, wearing a navy blue one piece suit that barely contained her exceptionally large tits, and which was cut high on the leg, showing off her strong gymnast's thighs. And Cara, nearly as tall as Ariel, skinny and pale, with long light brown hair that reached down to her incredible ass, which was displayed alluringly by the yellow thong style bikini she was wearing, and which was crowned with an ornate lower back tattoo. I realized that my hand had reached inside my gym shorts and that I was stroking my hardening cock. As I had so often done during the past few years, I moved to my bed, pulled down my shorts and began to jerk off in earnest.

When the door opened.

I screamed, tried to cover myself with the blanket and saw my sister, with a shocked look on her face.

"Jack-what the fuck are you doing?" she yelled.

"None of your damned business," I cleverly responded, "and don't you know how to knock?"

"I was coming to ask whether you wanted to come out for a swim with us, and I didn't expect that you were whacking off," she replied.

"Well, I kinda expected some privacy," I responded.

Now that the moment of total embarrassment had passed, and I was back in my shorts, rather than leave me alone, Sarah sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at me. We had actually always been pretty close, despite our different personalities, and I could see some concern on her face. She was a lot like our mom, and after Mom died a few years before, Sarah really tried to be there for me, even checking in on me regularly from college, which was especially helpful because Dad had reacted to Mom's death by throwing himself into his law practice and rarely was home. And when he was home, he really didn't pay much attention to what Sarah and I were doing.

"Jack," Sarah asked, in a motherly way, "do you do this a lot?"

My faced reddened and I nodded.

"You've never had a girlfriend, have you?"

I shook my head.

"And are you a--"

I interrupted her before she could finish. "Yes, I'm a virgin," I spat out, "A fucking 18 year old virgin. I haven't even kissed a girl, unless you count once in 6th grade on a dare, and I don't."

Sarah's face fell. "That shouldn't be. I mean, you have turned into kind of a hot guy, and from what I saw, your, um, is kinda--"

I interrupted her again, because it was getting uncomfortable. "O.K.—stop. That's enough."

Sarah got off the bed and turned to leave. "I have an idea, but I need to talk to my friends about it."

She was gone before I could say anything. I liked the fact that she thought that I was kind of hot. I looked out the window and saw Sarah speaking in an animated way with her friends, occasionally pointing toward my window, and the rest of them talking, laughing and nodding. I was both embarrassed by the situation, but intrigued. I knew that Sarah would never do anything to embarrass or humiliate me; to the contrary, I believed that she always had my back. I knew that she felt bad about her inability to protect me from the nerd's treatment at school, even though it was totally my fault.

Later that evening, I was in the kitchen making myself dinner when Sarah came in, her hair still wet from the shower, wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. She was as beautiful as her friends, if not even more so, with dark, almost black, wavy shoulder length hair, dark brown eyes, full red lips and a great body. If she hadn't been my sister, I would have included her in many of my fantasies, and Fred once mentioned that he had a huge crush on Sarah, which she, of course, never noticed, probably because Fred never actually spoke to her when he came over to our house. Not that it would have mattered—girls like Sarah and her friends, even the ones our age, were way out of our league.

Sarah sat down on one of the stools that surrounded the kitchen island and smiled at me.

"O.K., Jack," she started, "here's my plan, and the girls are all on board. We want you to come with us tomorrow to the lake house for the weekend. I pretty much guarantee that you'll enjoy yourself. I also think you'll learn a lot, and maybe it will help you get enough confidence to actually find yourself a girlfriend."

"Are you saying that your friends are going to—"

She interrupted me—"I am not saying anything more than I strongly suggest that you cancel any weekend plans that you might have, pack a bag and get ready for a weekend that you will always remember."

I told her that I would do that and texted Fred that I was going to the lake house over the weekend with Sarah, Beth, Cara and Ariel. He was a bit annoyed that we wouldn't be going to see a new movie together as we had planned, but when I told him what I thought was going to happen, he was excited for me and wished me luck. I wasn't comfortable mentioning it to Gina, who I knew would give me crap, and assumed that Fred would let her know where I was. I then packed my bag, and after agonizing over it for a while, chose my clothing for the next day--an ironic t-shirt and shorts, with a pair of Converse sneakers.

Late that night, Sarah and I were watching some sitcom reruns together when Dad came home from the office. Apparently, he wasn't aware that it was a holiday weekend, and that pretty much everybody leaves the office early. Ever since Mom died, he worked his ass off, came home, watched a little TV, maybe checked his email, and went to bed. No social life that we were aware of. I guess that he was more like me, and Sarah was more like Mom, who was always throwing parties and organizing nights out with their friends.

Sarah reminded Dad that she and her friends were going to the lake house for the weekend, and that she had invited me. Dad seemed a bit surprised, but just nodded and agreed to let us take his SUV as long as we left him the keys to our cars. He rarely questioned either of our movements, not that I did much, anyway. Sarah asked him what his weekend plans were, and he told her he needed to work on a brief, and was going to do some stuff around the house. She tried to convince him to go out or do something fun, but he just ignored her, said good night and went up to his room.

After awhile, Sarah suggested that we hit the sack, since we were leaving early the next day. I went to bed, but started thinking about the weekend. The only thing I could think of was that my sister had convinced her friends to fuck me, so that I wouldn't graduate a virgin. Frankly, as embarrassing as that might be, I decided that if this was the way that I was going to finally have sex, and that if any of those super hot college girls wanted to take my v-card, I wasn't going to complain. I started to imagine each of them naked, comparing and contrasting their faces and bodies and thinking about what I would do to them, based on the videos I had seen on the Internet, until I realized that I had a raging hard on. So I did what anyone in my position would do—I jerked off, and afterwards was able to get to sleep.

I woke up the next morning at 6 a.m., two hours before we were scheduled to leave, but couldn't fall back to sleep. This was the weekend that I was going to have sex for the first time, and with a girl ridiculously better looking than I could ever imagine. I showered, shaved off my minimal facial hair and got dressed. I thought I looked O.K. I checked my email and Facebook quickly, then shut down the laptop and packed it up for the weekend. I grabbed both bags and went downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. The house was quiet—Sarah didn't seem to be awake yet.

About 7:30, I heard Sarah come out of her room and shower. A while later, she came downstairs, wearing a tight, white t-shirt that showed off her nice rack, and light pajama pants with her college logo. Sarah went to our state college. She was only a fair student in high school, and from what she told me, she spent much of her time focused on cheerleading, partying and screwing big, athletic guys. I was impressed that despite her active social life she never missed classes and, when Mom died, still held it together and did well enough to graduate in the middle of her class. From what she told me, her college years have been similar—she does O.K. in class, and enjoys her social life. She is president of her sorority, after a successful year as social chair when she organized parties that were, she told me, the best and most fun on campus.

I handed her a mug of coffee, and she told me that we would be running a bit late because Beth was a little hung over and needed to sleep a little longer.

"That's O.K.," I said. "No big deal."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Since 6—I couldn't sleep."

She sipped her coffee and looked at me knowingly over the cup.

"Yeah, I can understand. Anyway, we'll leave soon."

We ate breakfast. She told me that whatever happened this weekend, I should have fun, listen and learn. She told me that I shouldn't be nervous or worried, because her friends liked me, and I didn't need to do anything to impress them, other than just be myself.

I objected, "Being myself is why I have never been with a girl."

Sarah laughed and said, "I'm talking about the smart, funny, thoughtful and sweet Jack that Fred, Gina and I know, not the shy, passive aggressive high school Jack who is so scared of rejection that he pushes everyone else away. If you had let the good Jack out more often, I guarantee that you would have had a better time the last few years."

I thought about what she said, and realized that she was right, but I never had the self-assurance to do anything but take the snubs from the social elite. Sarah then demanded to see what I had packed for the weekend, removed a few items that she deemed wholly unacceptable and looked through my closet and dresser to find replacements that she told me were more flattering. Sarah told me that I was, objectively, a good looking guy, and that I didn't have to try to hide it. At that point, Sarah's phone went off.

She checked her message, turned to me and said, "OK, let's go."

Sarah grabbed the keys to Dad's SUV and we went to the garage, tossed our bags into the back and got in. I guess I just assumed that she would drive, and she never hesitated getting into the driver's seat. As she turned on the engine, I reached for the radio.

"Don't touch that," she ordered. "We are not listening to your indie crap on a 3 hour drive."

My one real complaint about Sarah was her lousy musical taste—sappy pop music and rap. I guess that was what I would have to put up with to get to the promised land. She tuned the satellite radio to some station that I never listened to, and we were off.

First, we picked up Beth, who despite the hangover, looked good to me behind her sunglasses, her tits straining against a tiny green shirt that also showed off her flat tanned abs. She threw her bag in the back of the car, gave me a bigger smile than I expected, and got into the back seat. Next, we drove to Cara's house. She came out of her house wearing a black bikini top and tight shorts, with her hair in a long braid reaching down to the top of her perfect butt. She got into the back seat behind Sarah and immediately started singing along to the radio. Finally, we stopped in front of Ariel's house, and waited a couple of minutes before Sarah texted her. A few minutes later, she emerged from the house in a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants. She got into the car behind me, moving Beth, the shortest of the 3, into the center seat.

Sarah drove the car toward the highway and the girls all started to chatter over the loud music.

Cara reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of tequila, taking a swig and offering it to Beth, who said, "hair of the dog, I guess," before taking a drink.

Sarah laughed and said, "Starting early, are we?"

Cara responded, "Haven't stopped."

They laughed, and Ariel asked for the bottle and took a drink.

"What about Jack?" Ariel asked.

Before I could say anything, Sarah said, "If he expects to play with us, he needs to keep up, I guess."

They passed me the bottle. Although I was not a big drinker, having some beer every once in a while, I wanted to fit in, so I took a drink, and felt the fire on the way down. I coughed and passed the bottle back to Beth in the back seat. I was happy to see that Sarah didn't take a drink.

The girls began to talk and I quickly lost the thread of their conversation, which was mostly about people I didn't know and TV shows I didn't watch. Between the tequila and having not slept well the night before, I began to doze off, fantasizing about what each of them would look like naked, and what it might be like to fuck each of them.

Suddenly, the car came to a stop, and I woke up, my cock hard. I looked at my watch—I had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half, and we were parking in a shopping center.

Sarah gave me a shove and said, "get up—we need supplies."

The 5 of us got out of the car, Sarah grabbed a cart and we went into the supermarket. I tried to hide the bulge in my pants as we entered the store. Rather than start with vegetables, as I normally did, and work my way methodically around the store, Sarah made a bee-line toward the beer aisle. She and Cara each threw a case of cheap beer into the cart, then looked at each other and threw in another case. We then careened around the store, buying burgers and chicken to barbecue, milk, coffee, bread, eggs, OJ, ice and other staples for the weekend.

After paying for the food, we left the store. Sarah tossed me the keys and told me to load the car as the girls went into the liquor store next door. I rolled the basket out to the car and carefully loaded the bags in the spaces around our luggage. As I finished, the girls returned, with a brown cardboard wine case, which, based on the way that Ariel was carrying it, was heavy, but the top flaps were folded closed, so I couldn't see what was in the case. I trusted that this crew knew their way around a liquor store, and mentally prepared myself for a weekend of drinking.

"OK, now we are ready to party," said Beth, and we loaded into the car for the last leg of the trip.

As we hit the road, Ariel, who was sitting behind me, reached up and started to rub my neck and shoulders, saying "Jack, you've barely said a word—you seem nervous. Don't worry—this will be a great weekend—relax and enjoy yourself."

"Thanks," I mumbled, and pressed my back into her strong hands, letting her massage some of the tension away.

After a short time, we left the paved road and started up the dirt path to the lake house. My father had inherited the house from his parents. Originally a small, Spartan place with a beautiful lake front, my mother and father renovated and added to it to the point that it was a modern vacation house. My father's family was fairly well off, Mom's was actually pretty wealthy, and Dad's law practice was successful, so money had never been an issue with us. Mom didn't work outside the home, devoting her time to volunteer work and Sarah and me. She did, however, have a degree in design, and renovating the lake house was her pet project when we were younger. What had been the original structure became a large, open common area, with a large living and dining area and modern kitchen. The common area was surrounded by a large double bedroom, with its own bath and shower, designed to accommodate a second couple, and two single bedrooms that were connected by a shared bathroom. Upstairs was the master bedroom suite, with a king sized bed, sitting area and bathroom.

JayDavid
JayDavid
651 Followers