Invisible Girl - An Erotic Romance Pt. 07

They stood like that for a while, swaying gently back and forth. Then Jane kissed him tenderly and, placing her hands on his shoulders, eased him back into a sitting position.

She straightened and stood with her back against the door, smiling down at him. Then she said, "Please...may I show you my panties?" and without waiting for his reply reached down and lifted her skirt, revealing first the tops of the white thigh-high stockings she'd bought and saved for just this moment.

She saw him staring, wide-eyed, and waited a few moments before raising her skirt further...to show her valentine panties.

Peter let out a small "Ohhh..." that sounded like a groan. Jane let him look for a few seconds then dropped her skirt and quickly reached behind her back to unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor. Then she crossed her hands in front of her and stripped away her turtleneck sweater and dropped it to the floor as well, revealing that she had chosen not to wear a bra—a touch that Jane had found deliciously wicked—and that her nipples were already erect. She quickly smoothed her hair back into place. Then placing her arms behind her head she struck her favorite pose...and waited.

If only Suzy could see me now, she thought.

"My god," Peter breathed, and then fell silent, staring at her as if at a vision.

Jane returned his gaze...and once again felt the electricity passing between them and the heat beginning to build in her loins. She could feel herself becoming moist there and her breath became ragged. Slowly, very slowly, she began walking toward Peter, still holding his gaze. She continued forward, her legs on either side of his thighs, until she was directly in front of him.

Peter's head was tilted back to see her eyes and his mouth hung slightly open with desire. Jane slowly lowered her arms and caressed his hair for a moment. Then, unable to wait any longer, gently tilted his head forward and pressed his mouth against the mound between her legs. Peter made a small "Mmm" noise and began to kiss and nuzzle her there, his hands reaching up to caress the backs of her thighs and fondle her behind as he did so.

Jane stood with her head back, gasping, her hands still pressing him against her. When she felt his tongue there, separating the lips and pushing the already sodden fabric of her panties inside her she had to quickly reach up to cover her mouth with her hands as she cried out.

After a moment she decided she could wait no longer. She stepped back and toed off her shoes...then let Peter watch as she slowly pulled her panties down to her knees and let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicked them aside, and struck her pose again—now naked except for her white stockings.

Peter stared for a second, then quickly rose to his feet. Jane pulled him to her and began kissing him hungrily, her hands dropping to fumble at his belt. When she had pulled his pants and underwear down she wasted no time pushing him back into his seat, then straddling him and lowering herself onto his erect cock.

At the moment of penetration she felt a small orgasm ripple through her, seeming to take all the air out of her lungs in a long gasping sigh, and she rested her head on Peter's shoulder for a moment. Then, not wanting to keep Peter waiting, she kissed him again, her mouth open, and began to raise and lower herself on him.

It was fortunate that they hadn't had time to get too carried away—otherwise they might not have heard the bathroom door opening.

They froze, trying not to breathe. Then Peter quickly reached down and grasped Jane's ankles, lifting her feet off the floor and placing them against the wall on either side of him. So if anyone looks under the door they'll only see one pair of feet, Jane realized, amazed at Peter's quick thinking. She held onto his shoulders to keep from falling backwards.

They heard footsteps approaching the stalls and suddenly looked at each other—both having the same thought—then looked at the floor, Jane twisting her neck to do so. Jane's clothing was still lying scattered around there, and some of it would be visible beneath the door. Peter quickly stuck out his feet, pants and underwear still around his ankles, and raked it all back out of the line of vision.

All except her panties. When Jane had kicked them aside they had landed beyond where Peter could reach, halfway underneath the partition between their stall and the next one. The one to which they now heard the door opening. Jane, holding onto Peter with one hand, just barely managed to swoop down and snag them from the floor with the other as the door swung wide. They held their breath.

The new arrival apparently found nothing amiss, and Jane was relieved to hear the slithering sound of pantyhose being lowered, followed soon after by a tired sigh as the woman lowered herself onto the toilet seat A moment later the high ring of pee hitting the bowl assured them that everything was all right so far.

They grinned at each other in the shadowy light.

Peter's cock was still hard inside her, and Jane found the idea of having sex while a complete stranger (she hoped) was sitting in the stall next door exciting. But how to do it silently? Any of the usual up and down motions would create all-too-easily recognizable noises, and Jane did not want the woman to look over the partition and discover her, all but naked and straddling Peter.

Peter had apparently been having similar thoughts because he bent his head down and began teasing her right nipple with his tongue before going on to slowly lick her entire breast. A tingling shot through her and she felt the area between her legs throb slightly in response, squeezing Peter's cock. Noticing that, Jane wondered if she could do it voluntarily. She focussed her attention there and...squeezed...and felt herself contracting around his cock.

Wow, she thought. It felt wonderful.

Peter obviously had felt it too, and he raised his head and looked at her, eyes wide. Now looking straight at him she did it again...and felt him throb in return, as his eyes went slightly out of focus.

Ooo...

She smiled at him. And did it again. And again, gradually falling into a slow, tortuous rhythm. She still had her panties in one hand, and she put one end into her mouth and let them dangle there as she grinned at him and continued to squeeze.

But what was he doing? He had taken his hands from behind her back and was running them up her thighs...now he was stroking between her legs with his thumbs, just above where his cock was inside her. There seemed to be some little fleshy button there that Jane had never noticed before, and Peter was giving it a slow stroke, first with the pad of one thumb and then the other, with every squeeze she gave his cock. Each stroke sent a wave of pleasure shuddering through her. Her mouth fell open and her panties fell into their laps.

The woman next door suddenly stood up, flushed the toilet and began pulling up her underwear and pantyhose, but they paid no attention: in absolute silence and almost complete stillness, eyes locked together, they were driving each other into a frenzy.

They were like one organism, pacing each other—holding back while the woman washed her hands at the sink and finished adjusting herself—but inexorably building toward the climax they finally gave into at the moment the woman left and the door swung closed behind her.

At that same instant Jane dropped her feet to the floor and began bucking uncontrollably up and down on him, gasping. They both came within seconds.

"Nice stockings," Peter said a little later. They were still joined together. Jane's head had been resting on his shoulder but now she sat up and smiled at him. He crooked a finger under one of the bands of lacy elastic and stretched it experimentally. "I wondered how they stayed up." Then he looked at her and smiled. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Oh, I don't know. I got these..." indicating the stockings, "...a little while after you said how much you liked them, but I've been saving them for a special occasion. Then I thought it would be fun to dress the way I did that first day so we could, you know, do it over again the same way. For your last day."

She broke into a grin. "That didn't work out quite the way I planned it." She kissed him.

"Well, I guess not," Peter replied, grinning back. "But somehow I don't mind." He kissed her. "Thanks for thinking of all this." His gaze softened. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Me too." They kissed again, and held each other for a while. Then Jane said, "Aren't you going to your party? You're late."

It was a graduates-only party, which was another reason why Jane had lured him into the bathroom right after the ceremony.

"Oh yeah," Peter said, and shrugged. "Pretty soon. But this is more fun. Stand up and let me look at you again."

Jane stood up slowly, feeling Peter's cock, now much diminished, slide out of her as she did so. She grabbed her panties before they could fall out of her lap and held them behind her head as she struck her pose. Even now, when she had just been satisfied, she was amazed at how much of a charge she still got from posing for Peter. She loved to watch him looking at her. She loved the way his gaze made her feel like, not just the most beautiful and sexy girl in the world, but the only girl in the world.

After a while she said, "Which is better? This?" Then she lowered her arms, stepped into her panties and pulled them up snugly before posing again. "Or this?"

She watched him staring at her loins...at the contrast between the womanly stockings and the girlish panties, already wet with their combined juices...and saw that his cock was beginning to stir again.

That answers that question, she thought.

She smiled at him. "Remember how you made me turn around..." she murmured, slowly turning her back to him, "and bend over...like this?"

She slowly bent down and grasped her ankles, her legs apart. She was sure this would inflame him again, and she was right.

She heard him groan softly and felt his hands fondling her behind for a moment. Then suddenly she felt her panties being yanked down...then his hands on her hips as in one continuous motion he stood and entered her again—roughly, moaning aloud and thrusting so hard that her shoulders and back banged against the door.

Her position was extremely uncomfortable and the blood was already rushing to her head—and she loved it. And even though she didn't reach another climax it still thrilled her when Peter reached his and she felt him spurting inside her, his last few thrusts going deep within her.

She waited as long as she could before straightening up, only doing so when her back began to ache. Peter's cock slipped out of her and he half-sat, half-collapsed back onto the toilet seat.

She quickly pulled up her panties and threw her jumper over her head, not even bothering with the turtleneck. She told Peter she'd be right back and hurried out to retrieve her other clothes from her locker, stopping there only long enough to touch and smile at the little cloth heart glued to the door as she always did.

Peter had recovered by the time she returned and helped her to dress. When she was fully clothed she lifted her skirt and showed him her yellow cotton panties, saying, "Remember these...Mr. Peters?"

It was getting dark and the school was deserted but for a few people folding up chairs and cleaning up the main hall as they passed.

Peter took her by the hand and led her out to the parking lot, saying, "I want to show you something." He stopped and pointed. "You know what that is?"

Jane looked, then looked back at Peter, puzzled. "Your father's car."

Peter grinned at her. "Nope. My car! Not to mention my graduation present. Dad's getting a new one."

Jane was impressed. "Wow! That is so cool!" She slipped an arm around him and hugged him, happy for him.

Peter stared lovingly at his new possession, then back at Jane, his eyes bright. "And you know what I'm going to use it for?"

"Well...to go away to college, I guess." Jane hadn't meant to say anything about it but it just popped out. She hoped Peter wouldn't notice the sadness in her voice.

He blinked a couple of times at her as if taken aback, then said, "Well, yeah, eventually, but that's not what I meant."

"What, then?"

"Well, besides kidnapping you on a regular basis," he replied, waggling his eyebrows, "I thought if you were interested I could teach you to drive."

Jane was stunned. She'd figured she'd learn someday, but her chances of having a car of her own in the foreseeable future had been so miniscule that she hadn't thought about it in any kind of serious way. And now, suddenly...

"Really? You mean it?" she said.

"Sure. Be fun, don't you think?"

"Oh yes! Peter, that's so great!"

They kissed. Then Peter, still holding her, drew back, smiled and said, "Besides, just think of all the things I can do to you while you're driving!"

They loaded Jane's bike and extra clothes into the trunk and Peter dropped her off at Lucia's house, where she, Lucia and Suzy and a few other girls had planned to get together while the seniors were having their private bash.

Peter got out and helped her retrieve her bike and clothes from the trunk. He told Jane he had to work the next day but would pick her up tomorrow evening. He got back in the car and Jane leaned down and kissed him and stood waving until he'd driven off. Then she turned and headed for Lucia's front door.

And saw Lucia, Suzy and several other girls watching her from the living room window.

Well, after Peter's performance at graduation I guess we're not much of a secret anymore, she thought, and shrugged mentally. She quickly folded up her jumper and turtleneck and stuffed them into one of the bike baskets and parked her bike near the door.

As soon as she was inside the house she was set upon by Lucia and the others, laughing and chattering and demanding to know when she'd started going out with Peter, and Suzy crowing that she had known before anybody else.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chrissy lay on her back in the dark, her hands pressed to the mattress. The night was humid and even with her window open and the noisy old fan blowing directly over her she felt as if she were suffocating. Her hair felt sticky and lay damp on her forehead. Her nightgown, the lightest one she owned, was already soaked with sweat and clung to her and twisted around her limbs and wouldn't let her get comfortable.

Please let me sleep tonight...I'm so tired, she prayed. But she knew that tonight, as on so many previous nights, her thoughts would continue to chase each other endlessly around and around in her head, and what little sleep she might finally get in the small hours of the morning would bring her no rest.

She would not touch herself. She would not, even if it helped her sleep. Father...Brian was coming. Father Brian would give her peace. And then she would sleep.

She climbed wearily out of bed and stood. It was nearly midnight. The house was silent, her parents and her four younger brothers and sisters apparently more fortunate in seeking sleep. She opened her door, stuck her head out and listened for a moment before padding downstairs in her bare feet.

She went into the kitchen, thinking to get herself some ice-water from the jug in the refrigerator. The refrigerator's white enameled door seemed phosphorescent in the faint light that came through the kitchen windows. She grasped the handle to open the door and as she did so noticed the metal's coolness in her hand. She released it and placed her palm against the enameled surface. So smooth, and even cooler. She placed both palms on the door and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against it. Mmm... She rolled her face slowly back and forth across the enamel.

She pulled away and listened for several seconds. Nothing. She stood unmoving in the dark kitchen as if lost in thought. She shook her head once. Then again, more emphatically, a few seconds later. Her hands twisted together.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, quickly she bent down and pulled her nightgown over her head, throwing it over the back of a chair. And then, naked, she pressed herself against the front of the refrigerator, her arms on either side. Embracing it.

It felt wonderfully soothing for a few moments. But all too soon the refrigerator door had absorbed her body's heat and was no longer cool against her skin. She turned around and stood with her back against it, hoping there might be a cool spot she had missed, but to no avail.

She looked down and saw that her nipples had become erect from their contact with the refrigerator. She flushed with shame and reached for her nightgown...but her hand hesitated a few inches away from touching it. It was too hot, and there was no one to see her.

She let her hand fall to her side. Then she began to walk around the kitchen, timidly at first but then beginning to enjoy the dreamlike quality of being naked in the place where she and her family sat and ate and talked. She was sure she was being wicked—but it didn't feel wicked. She stopped in front of one of the windows that looked out on their back yard and stood in the dim light of the new moon. She looked down and watched the play of light on her skin. So beautiful...

She had taken ballet for several years until her parents had decided that it was too frivolous and was interfering with her schoolwork. She had been heartbroken when the lessons stopped. She hadn't even tried to dance in years, although her hours with the kindly teacher in the old run-down dance studio were a refuge to which her mind often returned. But now, feeling as though she were filling up with cool moonlight, she rose up on her toes and extended her arms gracefully.

Then she began to dance.

Humming to herself, she spun slowly in place, like the ballerina on the music box she kept on her bureau. As she began to hear the music more clearly she surrendered to it, and began to move around the kitchen doing small leaps and pirouettes. She extended one leg to the side...and sent one of the kitchen chairs scraping across the linoleum. It only moved an inch or two but it sounded to her like a screeching tire.

She stopped dead. Listened. Waited. She heard nothing...but it was hard to be sure because the music was becoming so loud. Demanding that she dance.

She waited as long as she could but finally the music became irresistible. And she was ready now... She opened the door of her dressing room, walked out onto the magically lit stage and danced for hours for her delighted audience.

She awoke just before dawn, curled up on the grass in her back yard—naked, shivering and covered with insect bites.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"Jane, do you think Mrs. Jorgenson would let you have some time off in about two weeks?"

Jane looked up from her hamburger. Her father had rummaged around in the garage and dragged the barbecue grill out into the driveway that morning, and they were all sitting on a tablecloth in the shade of a nearby tree.

"I guess so, why?" Then she remembered the plans they'd talked about. "Oh! Are we going on our vacation?"

Her mother smiled. "Yes. We weren't sure we could afford to go at all this year, but then my editor at the Ledger offered to let us use his cottage in Cape Cod for a week. Isn't that nice?"

"And," her father added, pulling a pickle spear out of the jar, "he wants your Mom to write about it."

"That's right," said her mother. "He wants a whole series: history, what it's like now, how popular it's becoming..." She smiled, a little sourly. "I think he just wants to build up the property value on his cottage by getting more people to go to the Cape. Still, I can't complain about a paid vacation."