It started pretty much the usual way. He smacked her on the back of her head as she walked home, her eyes eternally downcast. He laughed and ran off before she could even react. He did it a couple times more and one day he just announced “We should go out.”
She said no. And then again and then again. He asked her a few times more, and she finally gave in even though he scared her a bit (or maybe that’s because). There was a movie and making out on the backseat of a friend’s car. His hands were under her shirt and she let them while she closed her eyes and pretended she was somewhere else. Still, his scent was everywhere and his body leant over her like a dark shadow. He reached for the buckle of his belt (3 snakes, silver, interwoven) and she balked. He looked at her in surprise and then laughed and called her a dyke.
Somehow after that they were friends. At least he smiled when he saw her, put his arm around her and paraded her around like a new pet. He called her “V” and “Robin” and “Ladybug” and her smile would freeze around her lips because she didn’t think it was all that funny.
Yet he walked with her, chatting amiably by himself or yelling back at his brother, Michael, always one step or three behind them.
The true perks were of a different kind though. Hot summer days spent out and about, in a safe spot looking at the girls passing by. They were beautiful and carefree, all free flowing hair and long limbs and he could say the kind of things she couldn’t even dream about. He would mock, grade them and make up stories about the things they would do in bed and all she had to do was listen.
“Stacy Pembrook. I have seen her tits.”
“No way. Did not!”
“Of course. This spring when the team for once didn’t get their asses kicked entirely. Two shots and she thought she was a rodeo queen. Fucked the whole team too, surprised she could even walk the next day.”
“I swear. She … look, Linda … Brockner?”
“Brugger.” He followed the girl with his eyes, tapping his fingers, apparently lost in thought. “I’d hit that.” He finally decided.
Linda was a tall girl, her face covered in freckles. Her father owned a store around the corner and she was always covered in cheap, ghastly jewelry. But her skirts were always short and wavy, especially in summer, teasing to reveal even more of her seemingly endless legs.
Veronica blushed harder than before and barely dared to peek out from under her lashes. She didn’t have to look up to know what Linda looked like, she had watched her from afar often enough.
“I’d hit that, too, “ she whispered.
He reached over and tenderly traced the spot where the color crept up her cheeks. Then he laughed and slapped her back like he was proud of her.
Not that it kept him from fucking her. Or at least what passed for it with them. He loved to bury his face in her breasts and slide his fingers between her legs. She sighed in exasperation and let him as long as it wasn’t too often and he didn’t talk and especially as long as he kept his thing covered and far away from her.
One day Michael asked why Lincoln called her Robin and he laughed and tickled her while he explained that she was his gay little sidekick.
Michael frowned. “Does that mean you are Batman?”
Lincoln just grinned self-assuredly.
“But, wouldn’t that make you gay as well?”
This earned him a short whack over the head. “Stupid kid, Batman isn’t gay.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Even the comic code disagrees.”
“Batman gets to tap Catwoman’s ass. No way he is gay.”
“He could, but he doesn’t. Besides he lives together with a little boy. It’s a miracle that child services haven’t caught up with him.”
At this point Lincoln jumped up and chased Michael through the apartment. She could hear them laughing and screaming in the other room where Lincoln pinned Michael down and made him swear to never doubt the integrity of the caped crusader ever again.
“Is Catwoman the one with the tiara?” she called.
“No that’s Wonder Woman, “ it came back in unison.
“I think she’s kind of pretty,” she muttered.
Lincoln poked his head into the door and grinned. “Great Sappho, of course you would, ladybug.”.
They watched porno movies together, huddled together on the couch. Girls with big breasts and names like Barbara Dare or Ginger Lynn performing indescribable acts on faceless men and on each other. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears to drown out the moans whenever a man walked on screen and she peeked breathlessly between two fingers when it was just the girls. Blond locks strewn carelessly over red satin, clever fingers with sharp red nails teasing in forbidden territory, strange goddesses in white stockings and garter belts sending shivers down her spine and making her blood flow faster.
At one point he gripped her tighter to his chest and his hand snaked towards the buttons of his jeans. She grabbed his arm and bit him, but he squeezed her shoulder till she yelped in pain and reminded her whose apartment she was living in and who had paid for the movie.
So she closed her eyes again, buried her nose in his shoulder and tried to ignore the sound of low moans and skin sliding over skin threatening to rival those coming from the tv screen.
Afterwards he asked her why she never did it and looked away and said she preferred to do *that* in the privacy of her room. He looked at her without understanding before flipping her over so he was on top. She stared at him in wonderment as he slowly slid down the body, pulling her blouse out of her skirt and nipping at the tender flesh of her belly. His hand seemed to take forever to trail up her legs and his fingers tugged lightly on the elastic band of her panties. He moved the ruffles of her skirt out of the way before slowly descending and pressing his lips against the girly white fabric stretching over her pussy. She tensed and held her breath as he looked up, staring at her intently with dark eyes, and murmured: “Just shut up. I’m trying to do something nice for you.”
She forced herself to relax and let him force her knees wider apart. She gasped as he slid the last layer protecting her from his lips aside and began to lick and kiss her down there. Helplessly she writhed under his tongue and fingers and came with her heel pressed firmly against his shoulder and her mind lost in the image of Ginger Ann’s creamy white breasts.
This came out of an idea where Veronica is in love with Lisa. I have some more ideas for this concept. Lincoln tries to fix Veronica up with different girls. Somebody calls Veronica a dyke and Lincoln beats them up. Lincoln and Veronica go see a Madonna concert. Veronica platonically moves in with Lincoln when she is 16. Lincoln/Lisa/Veronica have a threesome and Veronica leaves because she is upset that Lisa isn't interested in her. Some stuff about why she came back and even some stuff why she is helping Lincoln now.
It is intentional that Veronica does not remember the porn star's name right.
Not enough names?
Longer, more detailed sex scene?
Better word than pussy?
Too much "She", "She", "She" near the end.
Not enough or ready for posting?