Cheri's Erotic Ten - Vol. 1

by Jean-Luc Cheri

  “Seems like just yesterday to me too.”

  Her eyes met mine, and I knew she was remembering that night. Even though it had been nine years, I remembered every detail. After all, you only lose your virginity once.

  * * *

  Nine years ago.

  “Mom, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

  “I know you are, Kyle, but you’re not old enough to take care of Amy.”

  “I am too.”

  She shook her head. “Look, I know you’re responsible, but if we were to go out and leave you in charge of a five-year-old, and something happened, we would be charged with child negligence. We have to hire a babysitter, I’m sorry.”

  “This is so embarrassing. What if my friends find out?”

  She smiled. “I won’t tell them if you don’t.”

  “Who are you going to get?”

  “I ran into Mrs. Page at the grocery store. She said her daughter’s leaving for college in a few weeks, and she’s trying to earn some extra money.”

  “You’re getting Erica Page?”

  “What’s wrong with Erica?”

  “Mom, she was a senior in my school last year.”

  “Good, you two will have plenty to talk about then.”

  “Mom.”

  “Kyle, the issue is settled. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  Erica Page? The hottest senior from last year was going to be my babysitter? This had to be a nightmare. I was four years younger than her, but she was my model for the perfect girl. Pretty, with long, dark hair, she was not only a cheerleader, but also the class valedictorian. Beauty and brains – a killer combination.

  I was lying on my bed, desperately trying to think of a way out of this, when my mother called from downstairs.

  “Kyle, come down here!”

  Like a man walking to the gallows, I slowly trudged down the steps. Sure enough, there stood Erica Page in my living room, holding my sister, Amy, on her hip. She smiled at me.

  “Hey, Kyle.”

  “Hey.”

  “How’s your summer going?”

  “Fine.”

  Dad came down the stairs. “Good evening, Erica. Thanks for helping us out here.”

  “No problem, Mr. Anderson.”

  “You ready to go, Molly?”

  “I’m ready.” Mom said. “You all set, Erica?”

  “Amy’s bedtime is seven?” she asked.

  “That’s right. She’s usually ready by then.”

  “I want to stay up,” Amy said.

  “What do you say we play some games?” Erica said.

  “Play games!” Amy shouted.

  Mom laughed. “You’re a natural, Erica. Let’s go, Roger.”

  My parents left, leaving Erica and me staring at each other.

  “Play games!” Amy repeated.

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Erica said to me with a slight smile.

  I scowled and said, “No thanks. I’ll be up in my room.” I turned and went up the stairs.

  I flopped down on my bed and grabbed my headphones, cranking the music up loud. My plan was to stay here all night, ignoring reality. Finding a sports magazine, I began to leaf through it, bobbing my head to the beat of the music.

  I was still doing this a half hour later, when a hand waved in front of my face. I jumped in surprise, and looked up to see Erica standing beside my bed.

  Pulling off my headphones, I said, “How about knocking?”

  “I did knock. You obviously didn’t hear me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Amy wants to play Candyland.”

  “So?”

  “I can’t find it.”

  “It should be in her closet.”

  “That’s what she said, but it’s not there.”

  “Then play something else.”

  She looked at me a moment, then said, “Why are you being a dick?”

  “I’m not being a dick.”

  “Yes you are. Look, I understand why you’re upset. I would be upset too if my parents hired a babysitter when I was fourteen. I would probably sulk in my room just like you are. So that’s fine, if you want to stay here that’s your choice. But you don’t have to be rude to me.”

  I thought for a moment. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I got up and headed for the door. “I’ll help you find the game.”

  Walking next door to Amy’s room, I saw they had several games spread over the floor, and Amy was sitting among them. I went to the closet and searched around, then peered up at the top shelf. Erica stood beside me, looking up also.

  I was tall for my age, so despite our four year difference, she was only a few inches taller than me.

  “Did you check up there?” I asked.

  “I tried, but I couldn’t reach.”

  Looking around for something to stand on, I spotted a pink plastic Barbie holder, which was about the size of a tackle box. I set it at the bottom of the closet and stepped up on it.

  But I still couldn’t reach up onto the top shelf, so I stepped off, turned the box on its side, and then stepped back on. The box wobbled, and I had to steady myself on the door frame.

  “Careful,” Erica said.

  “I’m alright.” I began to peer up into the shelf, when the box wobbled again. I had to quickly reach out and grab the frame again.

  “Whoa,” I said, causing Erica to giggle. It was a nice sound.

  I reached up again, and the box gave another wobble. “Whoa,” I repeated, hoping Erica would giggle, and she didn’t disappoint.

  “Here, let me help,” she said, and to my shock she stepped beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. It went all the way around, and her forearm pressed against my crotch. “Try it now,” she said.

  I tried to ignore the fact that Erica Page was touching my dick through my jeans, and reached my hands up onto the shelf. I felt something box-like and pulled it out. Victory! It was the Candyland box.

  “Got it,” I said, shifting back, but the action caused the box to wobble one way, then tip the other, sending me off balance and falling. Unfortunately, the only thing to break my fall was Erica, and I landed against her, knocking her over.

  We both went to the carpeted floor, her on her back and me over top of her. When we hit, the force of the impact drove my face right between her full breasts, and then I bounced so that I was now looking down at her face.

  “Ow,” she said, grimacing in pain.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, still lying on her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “I’m fine.”

  “Someone’s kissing,” Amy said, staring at us with a grin. She had moved over to us and was kneeling there watching.

  I realized that was exactly what it looked like Erica and I were doing, so I pushed myself off of her and sat up.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  She sat up also. “I’m fine.” She began to brush herself off, including her blouse where it was pushed out by the twin swells of her breasts. I stared at them, remembering how soft they had felt when my face pressed into them.

  “How about you?” she said, her eyes watching mine, and I quickly looked back at her face.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said, slightly embarrassed she had caught me looking.

  “You should be,” she said. “You landed on me.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, thanks, it was a nice soft landing.”

  She giggled again. “Did you get the game?”

  I looked around, and saw the box lying beside me. Holding it up, I said, “Got it.”

  She took it and opened it up, spreading the board out on the floor. “You’re welcome to stick around and play with us.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like fun,” I said, and she smiled at me. God, was she beautiful.

  We played a few games, and I noticed that every time Erica was going to win, she would ‘accidentally’ miscount and send herself down a chute, much to Amy’s glee. So I began doing the same, and my
sister managed to win every game.

  “Again!” she shouted after winning another one.

  “It’s almost your bedtime,” Erica said.

  “No, again!”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Erica said, “you get in your pajamas and brush your teeth, and then we’ll play one more game before you go to bed, okay?”

  “Okay!” Amy jumped up and ran to the bathroom.

  I smiled at her. “My mom was right, you are a natural.”

  She beamed. “Thanks.”

  A minute later Amy returned and changed into her pajamas, and we played another game, which, of course, she won. She put up a little fight, but eventually Erica got her into bed and read her a story. I sat at the foot of the bed and watched them together, amazed at how well this girl could handle my sister. She was going to be a great mom herself someday.

  Amy dozed off during the second book, and Erica slipped quietly out of the bed. “Let’s go,” she whispered.

  Downstairs, we sat at opposite ends of the couch. “How’d you get so good with kids?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I have a little sister myself.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I think she was a surprise. My brother’s twenty-two, I’m eighteen, and she’s four. I think Dad slipped one past the goalie.”

  I laughed hard at her joke, and then said, “You’re a lot nicer than I thought you’d be.”

  “How did you think I’d be?”

  I shrugged. “Like all the other pretty girls.”

  She nodded, and then said, “Thanks, that means a lot to me. I hope you keep that in mind.”

  I looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “You play football, right? Quarterback?”

  “Yeah, junior varsity.”

  “The word I hear is that you’re pretty good. The coach was saying you’re the best quarterback he’s seen at the school since Tommy Hamm.”

  “Wow, he said that?”

  “Yeah, so you’re going to be very popular in a few years.” She grinned. “Get ready for a lot of attention from the girls.”

  I felt a blush rising on my cheeks.

  “Nah, not me.”

  “Trust me, with your cute looks and being a quarterback, you’re going to have all the girls you want.”

  Was this really happening? Erica Page was telling me I’m cute?

  “So when that happens,” she continued, “keep in mind what you said about me being nice. It’s easy to forget about being nice when you’re getting all that attention. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You better,” she said, and then giggled. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Any girls you like?”

  “Maybe.”

  She smiled. “Anyone I know? I could put in a good word.”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was it nice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you done anything else?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like making out.”

  “No.”

  She paused, and then said, “Hey, feel like playing a game?”

  “Chutes and Ladders?” I asked, grinning.

  “No, silly, something more our age. Do you have playing cards?”

  I liked how she said ‘our age’, grouping me in with her. “Yeah, there’s a deck in that drawer on the end table.”

  Reaching behind her, she pulled the cards out. “Come on, let’s move down here.” She took my hand and pulled me down onto the floor, where we sat cross-legged facing each other.

  She was wearing a pair of white shorts, and the way she sat caused them to stretch tightly over her mound, and I took a few quick peeks as she shuffled the cards.

  “What do you like to play?” she asked.

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “How about Go Fish?”

  I grinned. “That’s for our age?”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  “Okay.”

  She dealt out the cards, and then swooshed the rest of them into a big pile between us. We began playing, and she seemed to get a kick out of telling me to go fish.

  “Having fun?” she asked after we finished our first game, which she won.

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning.

  “Told you.” She stuck out her tongue at me, making me laugh.

  As she dealt the cards, she said, “Besides, what game would be more appropriate for our age?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, poker maybe?”

  She stopped dealing and looked at me. “Why Kyle, are you proposing we play strip poker?”

  My eyes opened wide. “No, I didn’t say that.”

  “Well, I don’t see any betting chips around here. What else would we bet?”

  I shook my head. “We don’t’ have to bet anything.” The blush felt hot on my face.

  “What fun would that be?” she asked, giving me a mischievous grin as she resumed dealing.

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Besides, you don’t have to play poker for that. There’s always Strip Go Fish.”

  I stared at her. “Strip Go Fish?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “I am certainly not. I’ve actually played it.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.”

  “How does it work?”

  “Well, it’s just like regular Go Fish, but when you pick up a card from the pile that you asked for, the other person has to take something off.”

  “And you’ve played this?”

  “Of course.”

  “With who?”

  She smiled. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Was it with a group of people, or just one guy?”

  “Just one guy.”

  “What did you do, um, when the game was over?”

  Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. “What do you think we did?”

  “Um… Um…”

  She laughed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we did.”

  My mind was reeling as I imagined Erica with some nameless guy, naked and kissing. I felt my cock twinge.

  “You ready to play?” she said, fanning out her hand.

  “Sure.”

  “You go first then.”

  We went back and forth a few times, building our hands.

  “Got any kings?” She asked.

  “Nope, go fish.”

  She reached into the pile, and I was about to speak when she held up the card, showing it to me. “Got what I asked for!” Her smiled widened.

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  She looked at me. “No, you go ahead.”

  “Huh?”

  “I got what I asked for.”

  “Yeah, take your turn.”

  “No, the rules are, you have to take something off.”

  I looked at her in shock. “What?”

  “You agreed to play, so you have to take something off.”

  “I agreed to play? When?”

  I asked you if you were ready to play, and you said yes.”

  “I thought you meant a normal game, not the strip version.”

  “That’s what we were talking about.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  She paused and leaned forward slightly, her eyes meeting mine. She held up her card, showing me the king. “Kyle,” she said softly, “I got what I asked for. Are you playing or not?”

  Suddenly, I realized I was arguing against playing Strip Go Fish with Erica Page. Was I fucking nuts?

  I reached down and pulled off a shoe.

  She smiled. “That’s better. Now, do you have any threes?”

  After a couple more turns, she got what she asked for again, and I took off my other shoe. But on my next turn, I got what I asked for, and she took off her shoe. I stared
down at her white-stockinged foot, thinking how cute it looked, and wondering where this was all leading.

  “Your turn,” she reminded me.

  She took a sock from me, then I took another shoe, and then one of her socks. At that point we finished the game and had to re-deal. As I shuffled the cards, she tickled my bare foot. I laughed and pulled it away.

  “Someone’s ticklish,” she said, grinning. “Where else are you ticklish?”

  “Nowhere.”

  She laughed. “I’ll find out.”

  My dick had been half hard throughout the game, but when she said this it hardened fully, making a prominent lump in my jeans. I noticed her taking quick glances at it, but she didn’t say anything.

  We started a new game, and I lost my other sock right away, followed by my T-shirt a few turns later.

  “Nice,” she whispered, as my bare chest came into view. I puffed it out proudly, which resulted in her giggling.

  She lost her other sock, and I was nervous about what was going next. Would I be down to my underwear?

  But to my relief, I picked up a jack after asking for one, and she didn’t even pause before she pulled her blouse up over her head. Her bra was white, and slightly see-thru, and my eyes gaped wide when I saw the faint outlines of her areolas through the cloth. I couldn’t even try to pretend I wasn’t looking.

  “Like what you see?” she asked softly.

  “Um… Yeah.”

  “I can see that,” she said, giving me another mischievous smile and glancing down at my crotch, where my cock was doing a convincing impression of a tent pole.

  Instinctively, I placed a hand over it, trying to cover myself, but she just smiled and said, “Your turn.”

  A few turns later, I got what I asked for again, and she lifted her hips, undid her shorts, and pushed them down and off. Then she returned to her cross-legged position, and I stared intently between her legs, able to make out her dark patch of pubic hair through the white nylon.

  “Oh god,” I muttered.

  She laughed softly, and then said, “I’m very wet.”

  “Oh god,” I repeated.

  “Go ahead, your turn.”

  My pants were next, and she stared just as intently at the large bulge pushing out my whitey-tighties. She even licked her lips before I reminded her it was her turn.

  My prayers were answered a few turns later when I picked up a seven. I held it up to her triumphantly.