Hayley’s Party Ch. 00

5 Ocak 2021 0 Yazar: admin


“Hayley! Hayley! Are you awake yet?”

My Mom calling through my bedroom door. It was a good thing she hadn’t walked in on me.

“I’m coming Mom!”

I was! I was! Yes! God yes! I was really close, my eyes closed, breathing hard, hips jerking. Both hands were between my legs, I was thinking of Steve. Steve, my boyfriend! Steve, who I’d been dating for two years now! Steve who I was finally going to give myself to completely tonight! I rolled over on my bed, burying my face in the pillow to muffle the noises I was making as I fingered myself to my orgasm. Which I reached as I thought of Steve gently making love to me under a moonlit sky with the scent of roses filling the night air! Teenage daydreams are so corny! I knew that but I didn’t care!

“Hurry up Haley! We’re going in a few minutes!”

Mom sounded impatient. I knew I’d better get moving. I rolled out of bed, still breathing hard, my legs all quivery, dove into the bathroom, did the sixty second shower and teeth cleaning thing. Actually it was more like five minutes, but I knew Mom would calm down when she heard the shower running. Grabbed some clean black panties, throw on a black Giordano t-shirt and my black Adidas track suit pants, grabbed my Adidas track suit jacket (black to match of course) and dashed down the stairs. I didn’t bother with a bra. I didn’t really need one. Small and firm, that was me! I barely jiggled, unfortunately. Hair? I could brush my hair (that was black too, by the way) in the car. Like most cute Chinese girls, I suit black. Or black suits me. Whatever.

Mom was at the front door. Dad was pulling the car out of the garage. She looked at her watch pointedly, but said nothing.

“I know, I know, dim sum at ten with Daddy’s clients.” I put on my best apologetic yet dutiful daughter face.

Mom laughed. She always tried to be strict and serious but she could never keep it up for long. Dad beeped, Mom and I grinned at each other. Then we raced each other to the car. I won and got the front seat beside Dad. I actually really was looking forward to dim sum this morning. I’d worked out really hard at Tae Kwon Do for three solid hours last night and I was hungry. I was also relishing the thought of the coming evening, hugging my excitement inside me. I was going to need all that reserve energy. I was going to make Steve work hard. In fact, I planned to exhaust him. He wasn’t going to be able to walk by tomorrow morning.

“What’s the mysterious smile about Haley?” My Dad was grinning at me.

“Sleeping over at Claire’s tonight Dad,” I told him. “Girls talk and chick flick night.”

I didn’t like to mislead my Dad, but there’re some things about their daughters that Dad’s just don’t need to know.

My Dad shook his head. “You know Hayley, you should have Claire sleepover with us more often, I feel sorry for her parents, putting up with you all the time.”

My Dad liked Claire. Or should I say he liked looking at Claire’s tits. My Mom teased him about it, but she didn’t really mind. “As long as Claire doesn’t mind,” she’d told me once. “I know your Dad, he just likes looking.” She’d giggled then. “And Claire’s definitely got something to look at!” I’d been a bit shocked at my Mom when she’d said that but my Mom was like that. She said things that were totally outrageous every now and then. Problem was I knew she meant them too. Parents! They’re just so embarrassing sometimes!

I knew Claire didn’t mind at all. She liked guys looking at her. Even my Dad. “He’s cool,” she told me once when I asked her if she’d like me to tell him to can it. “He just looks and he’s always polite and I don’t mind that at all.” The last year or so she hadn’t minded so much that she’d worn really tiny bikinis when we went swimming in the backyard pool. For some reason Dad liked to swim with us. But he wouldn’t let me buy a bikini like Claire’s. Dads! What can you say! Of course, I’d bought an itsy-bitsy bikini anyway; I just didn’t wear it in the pool at home. Like I said! There’re some things about their daughters that Dad’s just don’t need to know.

There was of course a reason why I slept over at Claire’s so often, otherwise I wouldn’t bother even mentioning it. But let’s start at the beginning, which is usually a good place to start a story. I’m Chinese. Yes, that’s me. Hayley Chu. Eighteen years old, one hundred and ten pounds of almond-eyed cuteness, five foot three, and black hair that falls halfway down my back and which I usually wear in a ponytail. Slim all around, with slender hips and long legs – and no tits to speak of. I’d been looking for them since I was thirteen but they seemed to have gotten lost somewhere. Well, not really; I had two just like every other girl, but they were small, far more noticeably so when I was with my best friend Claire, who was my antithesis in so many ways.

Claire was five foot nine, and had a very noticeable bust. She was white skinned with lots of freckles and with beautiful auburn (that’s ginger to you guys) hair that I just loved. She wasn’t quite as slender as I am but she was far curvier and the definition of totally hot güvenilir bahis and I’d do anything for her. We’d been friends since first grade, when she made me play with her (skipping, so get your mind out of the gutter) when I was the new girl in class and didn’t know anyone else.

Anyhow, I was talking about why I slept over at Claire’s so often before I digressed. I’m Chinese and my family is Catholic. Think conservative and strict. No boyfriends. Lots of study! Anything less than an “A” is a fail. From Grade One on, I was in after school programs every day of the week, and Chinese School on Saturday mornings. I did Tae Kwon Do twice a week and on Saturday afternoons, followed right after by swimming class. And yes, I am VERY fit and I’m about a year away from my Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do. I’ve also been doing Hapkido training for a couple of years. I’m good at it. Sunday’s were early morning Mass (I’m an Altar Girl at 9am Mass), followed by Sunday School (where I now taught) followed by Sunday dim sum with my Mom and Dad and anyone my Dad had invited along. Sunday afternoon was family time. Quite the schedule!

I didn’t mind when I was younger. I’d never known anything else. Academically, I always came top of the class, every time, every year. My parents expected nothing less. I was that Chinese girl that always sat at the front of the class that everyone else in the class just looked at and shook their heads and went “what the fuck?” I think they just gave me first prize in everything without even checking for the last couple of years. For me, when I did tests with bonus questions and didn’t do the bonuses, a one hundred percent correct result would sometimes take my average down. Well-of parents or not (and we were well-off, Dad had his own medium sized accountancy firm), life’s tough if you’re a Chinese girl, never doubt it.

But of course I wasn’t entirely Chinese; genetically, yes, but culturally, no. My parents had been bought up the old way, but I was the next generation. Actually the third generation I guess because it was my grandparents that had immigrated here. I had mostly non-Chinese friends, we did stuff together, and when I was old enough to be interested in guys, I wanted a boyfriend like my friends had. Or a girlfriend, like Bethany had, but no, just kidding, girls didn’t attract me like that, so whatever.

Did I mention conservative and catholic and my parents? Boyfriends? No dice. Boys not permitted. Maybe a nice Chinese guy from a family my parents knew for a carefully supervised date at the Baskin-Robbins. Problem was I wouldn’t have been seen dead with any of the very few Chinese guys I knew. No way Jose. I grew up in a smaller town. Wendy Weng and I were the only Chinese girls in my year. There were a couple more a year or three behind us but that was it. When I saw another Asian, I did the same double take all my friends did. “Huh? Who’s that Asian guy / girl?”

I mean, unless I looked in the mirror or at my parents or at Wendy, I saw white. So that was what I wanted for a boyfriend. Except! No boyfriend permitted. Verboten. Nein! “You can date when you’re eighteen Hayley.” I didn’t like it but when you’ve been brought up like I had been, you don’t question your parents, except under your breath. Aiiyaaahhhh! Not until you’re a lot older anyhow, and even than it has to be pretty oblique.

I got interested in boys, as one does. I met Steve. Back then, he was in his last year at High School, a couple of years ahead of me. I’d been attracted to him way back before then, one of those unrequited teenage girl crush things. He was shy and he wasn’t one of those muscle bound jock guys but he was pretty smart which I liked. He was the older brother of a girl in my class which was how I’d gotten to know him. He chatted with me now and then, when I was with his sister usually, and one thing led to another, as it often does when girl meets boy, but my parents were firm.

“No dating until you’re eighteen.”

Our mutual attraction remained unrequited.

Near the beginning of those last summer holidays I turned eighteen. On the big day, my parent’s had actually said that since I was eighteen now, and a Senior, I could date. I had official permission. As long as my parents got to meet him first and I was home on time and no drinking and … and … and! The rules were lengthy. Steve was introduced to my family almost immediately and passed the rigorous parental vetting (any gweilo guy was definitely suspicious) and hallelujah, we could actually go out together without me having to circumvent the rules my parents set for me and date on the quiet as we had in the past. My parents said nothing about the almost instantaneous introduction of Steve, no rules had been openly broken so everyone was happy.

Me most of all.

Back then I’d been so excited about being allowed to date but with the restrictions my parents placed on me to start with, I just about panicked. My first real venture into boyfriend’s (I was already thinking of him that way BEFORE our initial date) was doomed before it got off the ground.

Enter Claire to the türkçe bahis rescue.

Claire had always had boyfriends. I swear she probably had a boyfriend before she could walk. Even in First Grade, the boys, who treated every other girl in the class as strange alien beings from another planet, all danced attendance on Claire. Where the boys teased and made fun of the rest of us, somehow they all fell at Claire’s feet. When she commanded, they obeyed. When she requested, they did their best to satisfy. At ten, she was changing boyfriends the way I changed clothes. When she was thirteen she was dating sixteen year old guys that I was totally in awe of. She must have worked her way around every guy in High School the same age or older than us. As we got older, I didn’t even bother to remember who she was dating. By the time I remembered the name, he’d been discarded and there was a new one. And besides, white guys all look the same to me (just kidding ha ha!! They don’t really, there’s different colored hair and eyes that help you tell white guys apart…honestly, if you’re Asian you may not believe this but those white guys have like blue eyes and green eyes and brown eyes and grey eyes and… well, it all helps you tell them apart…).

Anyhow, I turned in panic to Claire, who looked at me in total disbelief and then shook her head sadly. “Hayley, just sleep over at my place and we’ll go out on a date together. Stop stressing for fuck’s sake”. That was Claire, wise beyond her years and with an impeccable ability to cut straight to the point of anything guy-related.

As simple as that!

That first date with Steve had been just magical. I’d been floating from the moment I arrived at Claire’s. When Steve arrived to pick me up, I needed to be tethered to the ground. Helium had nothing on me! We went to the movies and held hands and then I was kissed for the first time when he dropped me off back at Claire’s parents’ house. The first time I’d kissed a guy. Really! It was! Both of us were shy and inexpert but we both shared the same enthusiasm and I knew I was in love. Although when he stuck his tongue into my mouth I was a bit surprised. But I got used to it. Back inside her parent’s house with Claire, she asked me how my date had gone.

“He kissed me!” I must have sounded rhapsodic.

“Jesus Hayley.” Claire buried her head in the pillow and I realized she was howling with laughter. Howling? Her whole body was shaking.

“What?” I was genuinely puzzled.

“You’re like, eighteen? And all you did was kiss?” She went off again. I must have looked hurt because she stopped right away. “Sorry Haley, I didn’t mean that, so you guys had a great time?”

I told her all about it, even about how he’d put his tongue in my mouth. I mean, we were best friends; I could share stuff like that with her. For some reason she was always a bit hesitant to tell me about what she got up to with her boyfriends. Maybe she was embarrassed about it.

After that first date, things between Steve and I just seemed to progress rapidly. Both of us were inexperienced, both of us were shy, but we really liked each other and we dated as often as we could manage through that summer. Things just gelled and before long we really were seriously girlfriend and boyfriend. I’d slept over at Claire’s regularly during that summer.

Claire also slept over at my parents’ house (yes, Claire was that good a friend; she sacrificed nights out on dates to come over to my place and do girly stuff so that I could date Steve. Now THAT’s a friend! She also told me quite a bit more about guys and sex and stuff. As I found out more, it was my turn to be embarrassed at my innocence. But my god! Did other girls REALLY do all that stuff? At my house, Claire and I did girly-stuff that my Dad approved of. At Claire’s, we went out on dates and little by little, I learnt that yes, girls DID do all that stuff.

With my conservative upbringing and Steve’s natural shyness, the physical side of our relationship had been slow to develop. A touch here, a hand there, holding each other tighter, lying together on the couch in Claire’s basement or at Steve’s when his parent’s weren’t around, it just seemed to happen little by little. I loved the feelings I experienced as Steve held me, as he pressed himself close to me, kissing me and holding me and I’d reciprocated bit by bit. Despite a lot of teasing from Claire, it wasn’t until recently that I had even considered letting Steve touch my breasts.

That summer holiday that followed my eighteenth birthday and which preceded that last year of High School was wonderful. Like a lot of Chinese girls, I like to dress to impress. I love following Hong Kong and Japanese fashion; the designers in Hong Kong especially are light years ahead of American clothes designers. And they design clothes for petite and slender Asian girls, fashion and clothes which you can’t find out in the mid-west where I live. Small town! Not many Asians where I lived back then. No problem, I got around that by online shopping. Aliexpress is my friend!

Chinese girls, we’re not shy about showing güvenilir bahis siteleri ourselves off. We may be conservative, and we may think “no sex until marriage” but that doesn’t mean we can’t be eye-candy. Me, I definitely worked on being eye-candy that summer, especially for Steve. It must have been torment for him, all that “look but don’t touch”. Especially when I finally made the jump to the tiniest bikini’s I could wear without actually blushing. Even Claire was surprised. When we went swimming, Steve needed an ice pack inside his shorts to keep the swelling down. Poor guy. Now, I feel sorry for him. Then, I reveled in teasing him.

Only a couple of days after Steve had met my parents, we’d watched movies together with Claire down in her parent’s basement. With her parents safely out, Claire had dragged her current boyfriend off to the basement guest bedroom to make out with him, leaving Steve and I alone. Was it the newly-granted parental dispensation to date Steve that inspired my willingness to go further? I was never really sure but that evening was the first time Steve’s hand clumsily unbuttoned my top and then fumbled with my bra. In the end I had to undo it for him and then I’d lain there quite literally trembling with excitement as his hand and then his mouth had explored my breasts. I was shy about their size (actually, lack of size if we’re honest) but in the end excitement won out over shyness and before too long I’d found myself making excited little noises and holding his head tight as he sucked and licked them, teasing my nipples to a beautifully aching hardness that demanded his lips and tongue and hands.

I didn’t have to think twice on our next date. I just lay there smiling happily as he fumbled his way down the buttons. He even managed to unhook my bra all by himself. On our next date I was so eager to repeat the experience that I didn’t even wear a bra. As soon as we were alone I’d opened my top for him myself so that he could do his stuff again. Of course, he did. The date after that I’d sat astride his lap and peeled my t-shirt off over my head and then, naked from the waist up, I’d brushed my breasts against his face, his mouth, and then held his head in my hands as I guided his mouth to suckle and lick at my small breasts and my nipples, first one breast and then the other. Steve’s hands held me, stroked my back and my arms, and ran over my breasts, reveling in my body just as I was reveling in his exploration of me, loving every moment of what we were doing together. I was also reveling on the feel of his erection beneath me as I sat on it.

With those first intimate touches, I found that the floodgates of desire had been well and truly opened and now I wanted more. Over the rest of that summer there were so many new firsts, opening a whole new world that I’d never imagined. Well, I’d imagined, but the excitement of reality far surpassed anything I’d dreamed of. The first time he’d taken his own shirt off and then mine and we’d lain in each other’s arms, my naked breasts pressing hotly against his naked chest, the feel of his body against mine made me tremble with excitement, his hands roaming everywhere on me. And we’d talked. How we’d talked. I was a bit of a chatterbox at the best of times and by now, Steve was no longer shy with me. By ourselves, we talked about everything, and when we were making out we talked about sex.

I wasn’t shy about sex, I was just conservative. I knew all about it in theory, Claire had seen to that and honestly, I had very few real inhibitions. Staying a virgin was the one thing that Mom had drilled into me time and time again, the one thing I was determined to protect. For the rest, hey, I was definitely interested, but I wasn’t ready to just hand it to Steve on a plate. On the other hand, I was prepared to nibble. And so, nibble by nibble, I surrendered slowly to Steve or to my own desires.

It was around mid-summer that I’d finally discovered masturbating. I know. I was a late starter. What kicked me off was Steve. We’d been out on a date and we were holed up in Steve’s bedroom, his family out, just the two of us lying together on his bed on a hot summer evening. Both of us were topless, me wearing my shortest and tightest shorts that showed half my butt, Steve wearing light and baggy summer shorts. We’d been holding each other tight, kissing passionately, my breasts pressing against his chest, my nipples swollen and hard and aching as they always were when our bodies were hotly pressed against each other.

Steve’s weight pressed down as he lay on me, his bulging hardness pressing against me in just the right place to excite me when he started to slowly move against me. I knew what he was doing. Previously I’d stopped him but that evening I let him continue moving, I let him continue rubbing himself against me, my hands resting lightly on his hips, feeling him moving up and down on me. Every move of that hard bulge against me, rubbing against my sex and my swollen and sensitive clitoris through our clothing sent ripples of hot excitement flowing through me. He moved faster and harder, and I encouraged him this time instead of stopping him, my hands urging him on, my voice urging him on with little whispers and gasps of excitement. I could feel myself getting wetter and more excited by the second and this time I wanted him to keep going.