Hero's Life Ch. 01

Author's Note: There's a prologue for this titled "Peaches" written from a third person perspective that is set several months in the future after Part 1. You can read "Peaches" first or save it for the end - your choice. Choice is good right?

Part 1

Heather is a clerk that does filing and errands here in our office. She'd worked with us all through high school. More importantly she is the kind of girl at work that the medium-smart and above guys quickly peg as "trouble." In her case, trouble comes in an absurdly hot little 18 year-old package. The male occupants of the entire office had breathed a collective sigh of relief two months ago when she finally turned 18. We got her a cake. She celebrated her birthday. We celebrated being promoted from perverts to slightly more respectable lechers.

Despite being a 28 year-old junior manager-type, I play-flirted with Heather even though I shouldn't have. It didn't help that she was a talented flirt. Blonde, blue-eyed, 5'2", and 110 pounds, she bragged once when we were alone one morning in the kitchen having coffee that she had been getting hit on since she was riding a bicycle. "It got worse," she smirked, gesturing at her chest, "when 'these' came in at age 13." "These" were her large, round, 32-D boobs that looked impossibly huge attached to her tiny frame. They jutted straight out in epic, gravity-defying beauty.

Just two days earlier, I had accidently learned that her boobs were also unbelievably firm when we collided one morning in the hallway. It was my fault. I had turned blindly after picking something up from the printer and Heather was right behind me.

Our unintended collision was a near perfect union. It started with one of my knees slipping under her short, pleated skirt Our first actual point of contact was her crotch jamming into the fleshy spot just above my knee. Her gasped, "Oh!" came as our mutual momentum began whipping our upper bodies together from there up. Her firm flat belly rolled into mine and then her gigantic boobs pressed into my chest. On sheer instinct, I darted my free arm around, behind, and up the middle of her back to keep her from falling backwards. It proved wise because her bright blue eyes widened as my 80 pound advantage sent her torso ricocheting back. I half-stepped forward to follow her, still trying to keep her from falling backwards, and pressed her harder to my chest. Her chin came to rest on my shoulder.

When the physics finished working themselves out, it actually ended up being kind of graceful. She was firmly pressed to me from crotch to neck and leaning back with most of her weight on my arm. Her fantastically firm mammaries were spread to form a perfect boob barrier between us. We were in a shallow dancer's dip. I could smell her sweet, peach shampoo.

"Wow," she breathed, "my hero." She leaned back a bit more, pulling her chin from my shoulder and gave me better bedroom eyes than a teenager should have been able to muster.

"Hardly. Jeez, if I'd been looking where I was going I wouldn't have plowed into you. I'm really sorry." I leaned myself back to upright, bringing her with me, and she frowned a tiny bit as I stepped away. I immediately got the impression that Heather was not used to men stepping away from her.

"Well, you've got hero instincts going for you anyway. I'm fine. So what was the best part of that for you?" She smiled with a cocked eyebrow and straightened her disheveled cashmere sweater so that it now spread more evenly across her glorious tits. To her credit, she had re-composed herself quickly and was well enough to flirt.

"Hmmm... I'd have to say your shampoo. I like peaches. A lot." I grinned. A rudimentary sense of workplace etiquette had sharpened my riposte.

Her short, bright laugh came quickly and easy. "I'll just bet you do. See you later... 'Hero'." she teased. She stepped past me with a twirl before turning to continue down the hall.

"Yeah, back to work 'Peaches'." I craned my neck to risk a quick glance at her exquisite little bubble butt that made her short skirt swing enticingly.

I caught whiffs of her shampoo on me for the rest of the day. That night, I mentally replayed the feel of her body against mine in one of the quickest masturbation sessions since I discovered myself at age 14.

The nicknames stuck the way they sometimes do. She liked "Peaches" and I kind of took to "Hero."

It really started on a random Tuesday. I had been pulling extra hours at work for the past three weeks. A client with a rushed merger had begged us to take on a project. The completion bonus they offered if we could pull it off was immense, but I was getting burned out.

Of all people, Heather had helped me the most. She couldn't do any of the analysis but she could rummage through the dozens of record boxes. She fetched me files I needed. She put files away after I finished looking them over. My work moved a lot quicker as a result. She worked late too. It was her summer before college and her high school friends had evaporated. They were off on the usual pre-college adventures - backpacking through Europe and drinking in Mexico. I felt bad for her; stuck at home and working tons of hours but, as she succinctly put it, "It's either hang out with you... or hang out with my parents. Plus, you let me drink."

We had worked out a ritual. Before lunch time we agreed on what we were having for dinner. Over lunch hour I ducked out for suitable booze. In the evening, she ordered take-out and ran out to pick it up. We usually broke for dinner together in the paper-clogged conference room around 8 o'clock. Another hour or two of work after dinner and we called it a night.

Tonight was Asian night. We couldn't decide on sushi or Chinese so we sprang for both. I had agreed to pick up a bottle of sake because she swore she could get her hands on a hot plate to warm it.

When she came back with the food it was clear she'd done something new tonight. She'd stopped at home to get changed before hitting the restaurant.

"In honor of Asian night!" she beamed. She wore a yellow silk, spaghetti strap camisole with a Chinese design in light blue thread. She paired it with dark designer jeans and little embroidered flats. Her light blue bra strap matched the blue thread in her cami. Her top showed her giant round boobs jammed together in tight cleavage. It also showed the perfectly tanned skin of her shoulders. Its yellow silk picked up highlights in her shoulder-length blonde hair. Its blue detail picked up her blue eyes. She'd never looked better.

I cleared off the end of the conference table. She sat in one of the big leather conference room chairs at the end of the table and I sat by her in an identical chair right around the large table's corner. We opened trays and boxes. I warmed and poured sake. We munched happily, making small talk about movies and books we liked. In an hour, we put a serious dent in the 2L bottle of sake I bought. I think that's what prompted her question.

"Hero, do you think I'm sexy?"

I counted to three in my head before answering. "Peaches, the eastern seaboard thinks you're sexy." I focused in on the sushi platter like deciding which piece of fish I ate next was a vital decision.

"Really?" I felt her eyes on me.

"Yes." I still didn't look up.

"But you didn't answer my question." She followed.

"Hmmm?" Still. Not. Looking. Up.

"You didn't say whether you think I'm sexy or not." She persisted.

"True." I couldn't possibly make sushi look more complicated.

" 'True' you think I'm sexy, or 'true' you admit you are dodging my question?" She pressed.

I sighed, looking up at her pretty, young face. "OK. OK. Look, you win. True to both. Yes, I tried to dodge your question and, yes, I think you're sexy."

She met my look with a grin and flashing blue eyes; enjoying her small victory. She looked down to fish for another bite of her beef lo mein. This time it was her turn to speak while looking down, her voice softer, more girl-like, "So why haven't you tried to put the moves on me?"

I hadn't seen that coming. "Who says I haven't been putting the moves on you this entire time? Maybe this whole project is an elaborate ruse so I can spend weeks and weeks of late nights with my dear Peaches?"

"Hah!" She laughed loudly. "But seriously," she was back to the soft, little girl voice, "not interested?"

"Dunno. I guess there's the age gap. We work together too. Maybe I've genuinely enjoyed just flirting with you."

"Arrgh. Look, I'm out of here for college at the end of the summer so we're not really working together. We're also not that far apart in age. You're a young 28 and... let's agree that I'm a mature 18." She glanced down at her humongous boobs for effect.

"Yeah, you're a mature 18 all right." Oddly enough, I wasn't thinking of her boobs when I said it. I was recalling one of our late night work sessions last week, when Heather showed me how to make a perfect dry vodka martini.

"My secret," she had said in all seriousness, "begins with shaking the vodka and ice first." She deftly shook the mixing glass and can up and down. Her boobs followed suit; bouncing up and down under her chin. "If someone would just hold my boobs down while I did this."

I backed away from her, raising my hands like someone had pointed a gun at me.

She giggled. "Then I pour a tiny bit of vermouth in the martini glass, give it a swirl to coat the glass, and then dump it out."

"Dump it out?"

"Yup, dump it out. I think they call it a 'rinse and run'. Ok, then in goes the vodka... toss in the twist... and... voila!"

I took a test sip. There was a hint of vermouth and a cloud of tiny ice crystals in the vodka. It was delicious. An 18 year-old with a martini secret. What the fuck do you even do with that?

"Damn this is good. Where'd you pick this up?" I asked. "At your age, I was drinking cheap beer begged off somebody's older brother and throwing up in my mom's bushes."

She laughed. "Well, beer sucks and you can learn a lot on YouTube, dude."

I snapped out of my martini memory to catch the real-time Heather finishing a thought. "... and they're either staring at my tits or talking to me like I'm a child. Sometimes they do both at the same time. Am I the only one who feels the fucking irony there? I swear to God, Hero, you're the only one here that treats me like an adult. Hero?"

"Hmmm?"

"Heh, you feeling the sake, old man?"

"Maybe a little. And calling me 'old man' isn't helping you with your 'there's really no age gap' argument."

She eyed me and changed tactics smoothly. "What's the sexiest think you've ever done?"

Heaven help me, I played along. "Ummm... sexy raunchy or sexy romantic?"

"Oooh, sexy romantic. But feel free to share the raunchy bits too."

For any number of reasons, good and bad, I started to tell her about my first time with a girl. Well, in my odd case, girls. Plural. "It was when I was in high school during an extended trip with my parents to the far east. Hong Kong and Tokyo then on to Bangkok and Phuket in Thailand. Vacations as a teenager with your parents are tough, am I right?"

She nodded and huffed her agreement.

"So Bangkok was the first place I could get some space from the parents and hang out with people my age. I met Lisa and Tracy there."

"Two girls?"

"Two girls." I nodded and continued.

********

Lisa was a tiny, freckled pixie who essentially bounced everywhere she went. She was barely 5" tall with short dark brown hair and freckles. Deep, dark doe eyes twinkled with mischief. She was a cute little cheerleader whose enormous, bright smile made her somehow occupy more space than her tiny body took up.

Tracy was Lisa's tall, pale, blonde shadow. Tracy was the one I really fell for. She radiated innocence. We had that in common. Tracy was attractive in a more delicate way. Her body was long and almost gangly at 5'8". She had a toned, young swimmer's shape. She would be model-level beautiful someday. You could tell already by her proportions. Her most amazing feature, though, was tucked quietly behind her eyelids. She had truly lavender eyes. The only pair I've ever seen and will probably ever see. They were purplish-blue gems that she mostly hid by looking awkwardly down at her feet. I think I only got to see them at first by accident. It was at the hotel's pool.

Lisa and Tracy were sitting on lounge chairs in the sun. I had noticed them both as I was approaching, but intentionally looked away as I passed by. It wasn't an attempt at being suave. It was an adolescent mix of shyness and politeness. I didn't want to oggle girls I assumed were sick of being oggled. My plan was to try to walk passed while looking towards the towel shack where I was heading. Of course, not looking where I was going, I accidentally kicked Tracy's chair. Not so cool. Startled, she looked up at me and I looked down at her. I caught her amazing eyes and stopped dead.

It was Lisa who broke the awkward silence, "Careful, mate. You coulda broken a toe just there." OK, she was clearly Australian.

"Ooh, sorry about that. Clumsy of me." I replied scratching my head. It was all I could manage. I waved and continued walking to the towel cabana.

Lisa yelled from their chairs, "Hey, get us a couple of towels too why you're over there?"

I grabbed a bunch and came back.

"I'm Lisa and my not-so-chatty friend here is Tracy. Pull up a chair and hang out."

"Nice to meet you." I think my voice cracked a little. I was such a dweeb.

We traded small talk. They were vacationing with Tracy's parents.

Long story short, we spent the week together sightseeing around Bangkok. The ever-bubbly Lisa made our explorations fun. She sensed an attraction between Tracy and I, and made it her mission to get us together. At one point, while the two of them were posing for pictures on an elephant ride, Lisa grabbed Tracy's shirt from behind and jerked it up, flashing me Tracy's bra-covered chest. "Nice boobs, huh?" Lisa asked. I waited the few long moments before Tracy finally met my gaze and managed to say "Very nice. Very, very nice." Tracy blushed and smacked Lisa in the thigh.

Over the week, Tracy opened up and we started talking more. She was sweet and thoughtful and had a fabulously dry sense of humor. She liked Monty Python and could recite the Norwegian Blue parrot sketch from memory. She thought Starbuck and Apollo were dorks and that Balthazar's reasoning was kind of realistic. A pretty teenage girl with Battlestar Galactica opinions? She was a geeky adolescent boy's dream! For her part, Lisa periodically found excuses to disappear so Tracy and I were alone together.

Then came our last night. My parents and I were heading out the next morning to another leg of our trip. The girls invited me up to hang out in their room after a late dinner. We watched Chinese soap operas dubbed in English and laughed ourselves hoarse making fun of the bad acting and silly costumes. The girls showered and I strategically chose Tracy's double bed to stretch out on while they cleaned up. When they came back, Tracy was wearing a skimpy green pajama set of shorts and a tank top. Lisa, on the other hand, was wearing just a towel. She was small enough that it covered from beneath her arms almost down to her knees. She made a hotel bath towel look pretty darn sexy. Tracy smiled at my slack-jawed stare and slipped under the covers of her bed with me. Lisa passed us and got into her bed. Once hidden under her blankets though, she removed her towel and, grinning evilly, flung it at me. I ducked and asked the necessary question, "You're naked under there aren't you?"

Lisa just nodded, still grinning evilly.

"She gets hot." Tracy explained with mock innocence.

"I bet she does." I said, finally looking back at Tracy.

Lisa went back to watching TV. Tracy and I talked late into the night. When we heard Lisa snoring from her bed, we turned off the TV and the lights and faced each other to talk in whispers. I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point we fell asleep too. I only realized it because I woke up when Tracy dreamily said "Don't miss beaches." It made me smile. She'd reminded me set the alarm clock so I wouldn't oversleep and miss the flight to Phuket - a beautiful beach destination.

In our sleep, we had moved closer until we were sharing the same pillow, our faces were now less than a foot apart. It was semi-dark in the room - moonlight streamed in through the window. I felt Tracy's regular, sleeping breath on my face. She was so beautiful there just in front of me, her blonde hair falling across one eye, mouth slightly open. The late hour and lack of time gave me courage. I kissed her. She stirred a little and kissed me back, slipping her tongue into my mouth. We kissed for half an hour before she opened her lavender eyes and whispered, "I want to make tonight special but, well, I've never...."

"Me neither." I smiled.

"If you want to...." she started to offer.

"Whatever you want..." I kissed her cheek gently.

"I'm a virgin and I'd like to stay that way. " she explained.

"We don't have to get anywhere near that far." I assured her.

She looked over me for a moment and nodded. Then she focused back in on my face. "I have an idea. " She raised an eyebrow.

"Hmmm?" I wasn't following her, and frankly, I wanted to get back to the kissing. What happened next took me by complete surprise. Lisa, clearly awake now, slipped into bed behind me. "Can I crowd in here with you guys?" She asked, snuggling her nude body into me from behind.

"Gah, ah ha... naked girl!" I yelped, scrambling six inches forward to press myself against Tracy.

Tracy snickered down at me, "Lisa is a bit more experienced. She was hoping to help."

"So, all of us, together?" I rolled onto my back to look from Lisa and back to Tracy.

"Mmm... hmmm," Tracy said, taking my hand, It's your last night in Thailand. Let's live a little dream."

Lisa took my other hand and moved us both over Tracy's body. Together, we stroked Tracy's neck and shoulders, then down along her side to her slender hips. Lisa slid us around to cup Tracy's firm ass cheek. Lisa never hesitated. Tracy didn't flinch either when, together, we squeezed her ass firmly.

I was inexperienced but not dumb. "You girls have been together before."

Tracy grinned "Sure. I said I was a virgin. I didn't say I was celibate. We've never had a threesome before though." She turned onto her back beneath the blankets and shimmied out of her pajama bottoms. She spread her legs and Lisa guided my hand to Tracy's warm, moist sex, rubbing in lazy circles. Tracy cooed appreciatively.

Lisa had very direct plans that she whispered into my ear, "Come on, I'm going to teach you something useful. You're going to learn how to eat pussy from a part-time lesbian."

Lisa and I moved to the bottom of the bed. I was so intent on what was about to happen that I ignored the fact that Lisa was next to me completely naked and I was still fully clothed. When she slid the blanket from between Tracy's legs I was speechless. It was the first time I'd seen a woman completely naked. Her fine blonde pubic hair, what little of it there was, was trimmed short. Her delicate lips were a deep pink that stood out against her pale skin.

"See, she's beautiful all over." Lisa admired. "Don't you just want to lick it?"

"Yes, please." I croaked, by mouth suddenly dry.

Lisa leaned into Tracy's sex from the side so I could see what she was doing. She began with a few soft laps of her tongue at Tracy's clitoris then circled around the opening to Tracy's vagina. She repeated this then stopped, looking at me seriously, "Women like different things down here. Mostly, it's trial and error. The only common thing for me, and for Trace, and umm... any other women I may or may not have been with... is this: don't go attacking a clit with a nonstop barrage of tonguing. We need pauses. Little ones. It helps the pleasure build up until we come. For Trace, sometimes I lick somewhere else during the pauses. Sometimes I don't lick anything at all. It's the little rests that matter."