FIELD TRIP
                by Michael K. Smith


  "Francie, we're gonna get caught, I just know
it! He'll wake up and then we'll really be in
trouble!" She peered nervously through the crack
in the door at the large slumbering form. "We
shouldn't have watched that movie, either," she
added in a fretful whisper.
  "We're not going to get caught, Beth, so stop
worrying. He didn't come in until after one, drunk
as a skunk, and he's been snoring for an hour. We
could drive a fire truck through here and he
wouldn't even twitch." Francie Underhill was
kneeling in the hall in front of her friend,
studying Derek through the same crack. There were
no signs of life. The hard wooden floor was
hurting her bare knees and her brother's snoring
alone would cover any sound they might make. And
she was itching to explore. 
  Derek was supposed to be keeping an eye on her
while their folks were out of town for the
weekend, but he resented being made to babysit at
the age of twenty-two -- even more than twelve-
year-old Francie resented being the sittee -- and
had gone out drinking with his friends. (He seemed
to drink a lot since flunking out of college and
moving back home while he -- theoretically --
tried to find a job at more than minimum wage.)
  As the moonless night crept over the
neighborhood, Francie had held off her own
nervousness by calling up her best friend, Beth,
and inviting her for an overnight, just to keep
her company. At her age, staying alone in the
house on a Friday night was totally boring; she'd
explained that several times to Beth, just so
there would be no misunderstanding about her
motives.
  And then she had gone into the back of her
brother's closet and dug out one of his porn
movies and insisted Beth watch it with her.
Francie had seen it before, of course -- several
times, when she'd had the house to herself in the
afternoons -- but she'd never shared the
experience with anyone. Beth had protested but
Francie had long had the knack of getting people
to do what she wanted.
  Just thinking about some of the scenes on the
video made her squirm and imagine all sorts of
things. She had been mesmerized by the things the
actors and actresses did to each other. Some of
those guys had such huge . . . except she didn't
think they were "acting," exactly. The fucking was
certainly real, and all that cum was absolutely
real. Watching that one guy with the mustache
shoot his stuff out at least eight or ten inches,
all over that girl's face, . . . that always made
her catch her breath. She wondered if it hurt when
a guy came inside you and shot off like that.
  Beth had watched it with her mouth open, her
cheeks flushed and her leg muscles tensing
unconsciously every time a huge cock rammed into
some girl. She seemed to cycle from repulsion to
fascination to vague fear. Beth was usually pretty
shy but Francie began to wonder just how far her
friend had ever gone with a guy.
  She jumped a little when Beth touched her on the
shoulder. She peered up in the near-darkness at
the worried frown on Beth's face.
  "C'mon, let's go back to bed. We shouldn't even
be peeking at Derek like this."
  Francie stood up and adopted an aggressive
expression. "Elizabeth Truman, if you chicken out
of this, you can just go home! And don't think
I'll ever ask you over again, either!"
  Beth looked like she might cry and Francie
instantly regretted the threat. She made herself
smile and softened her tone. "Look, nothing's
going to go wrong, okay? Just think of this as
part of our education -- like a field trip to the
zoo."
  The image and the memory made both of them
smile. They'd gone to the zoo in Third Grade to
see the giant pandas from China, and the group
also had stopped to watch the giraffes eating out
of the tops of trees. There was a herd of zebras
in the enclosure, too, and one of the boy zebras
had gotten excited and climbed on a girl zebra,
and . . . and then Mrs. Hollister had cleared her
throat and loudly hurried them all away to the
Reptile House. But they had whispered in the
Girls's Bathroom about the incident for days.
  So now Francie knelt here in her short yellow
nightshirt and Beth crouched behind her in her
fading Wonder Woman pajamas. Francie took a deep
but silent breath and pushed the bedroom door
slowly open. "Okay, here we go!" She reached back
without looking, snagged Beth's sleeve, and pulled
her along.
  Once in Derek's room, both girls were suddenly
aware of the reek of cheap wine mixed with the
more subtle smell of hospital alcohol. That was
Everclear -- Francie had found her brother's empty
bottles before. They looked at each other and
wrinkled their noses in unison, and then had to
cover their mouths with both hands to keep from
laughing.
  The room was dim but not dark, since Derek
routinely left his closet light on when he went to
bed. Francie didn't know whether that was simply
to annoy his parents (which it did) or whether it
was because of a childhood fear of the dark. But
she certainly wasn't going to ask him!
  Derek was sprawled across the bed on top of the
covers with his head half-buried under his pillow.
He wore a stained tee-shirt, a pair of striped
boxer shorts, and one white athletic sock. His
jeans, tennis shoes, and the other sock were on
the floor, mixed in with cast-off clothing of the
previous week. Studying his face, what she could
see of it, Francie confirmed her previous opinion
that her brother really wasn't all that bad-
looking, and even had a pretty nice body -- even
if he often was such a jerk. He hadn't shaved for
a couple of days, though, and his hair stuck up
and out in all directions. At least he didn't
stink, she thought. Derek shaved and changed his
clothes whenever he felt like it, but he was a
fanatic about bathing. He usually took at least
two showers a day, and she was grateful for that.
The boozy smell was bad enough.
  She looked back over her shoulder. Beth had
stopped just inside the door and was trying to
peer around her at Derek. Francie went back,
grabbed her hand, and tugged her to the bedside.
Beth's eyes bounced up and down his lanky body,
then went to her friend's face.
  Francie held up a forefinger for attention, then
pointed slowly and dramatically at Derek's crotch.
There was a hump visible beneath the shorts, and
it seemed to be twitching slightly. Her brother
must be dreaming.
  Beth's gaze followed the forefinger, then
widened as she saw the slight movement. Her face
flamed even in the near-darkness, and she
unconsciously licked her dry lips. But she didn't
look away.
  Francie stretched far forward and suddenly
prodded Derek in the sternum. Beth gasped and both
girls dropped to the floor beside the bed. But the
body on the bed only snorted once and resumed
snoring.
  The two interlopers stood up, Beth with her hand
flat against her chest. Francie grinned broadly
and mouthed the word "See?" Then she knelt slowly
on the bed and motioned Beth up beside her. The
bed sank too far on that side, though, and Francie
quickly stood up again but motioned to her friend
to stay where she was. Then she hurried around to
the other side of the bed and climbed up on it
again. Derek never stirred. Francie took another
deep breath and reached carefully out toward the
front of her brother's boxers. She ignored the
frantic shaking of Beth's head.
  When she tried to infiltrate her hand into the
front of his shorts, though, she found there was a
snap in the way. And also a snap at the top. Even
better, she thought, and carefully popped open
both closures. The front of the shorts separated
and divided along a length of perhaps six inches,
exposing a thick forest of curly light brown hair
above a half-inch of bare, convexly curved flesh.
The rest of what she had come here to see was
still tucked down inside the shorts. She glanced
up at Beth; the other girl was holding her breath,
and her eyes were wide and riveted on what was
happening before her.
  Francie hadn't thought quite this far ahead. She
had sort of assumed that Derek's . . . equipment .
. . would simply present itself to satisfy her
curiosity. Now she saw she was going to have to
take a more active role. She would have to go in
after it.
  Grasping the lower end of the front seam of the
shorts, she pulled slowly downward, exposing more
and more of that pale organ. God, she wondered,
how big could it be, just lying there asleep like
that? But it wasn't completely asleep, she soon
saw   it was still twitching a little and it
seemed to be swelling. What *was* he dreaming
about?!
  And then, as Francie was wondering just how far
she could actually go, the object she sought was
released from the confines of its dark home and
made a sudden bid for freedom. Both girls jerked
back a little as Derek's penis, now perhaps one-
third engorged, sprang up at a slight angle.
  Francie leaned closer to examine her prize. The
shaft was whiter and thicker than she had
expected, somehow. The head was a bit darker and
looked like some kind of army helmet with a little
bullet hole in the top. She reached out and gently
touched the head with her fingertip, then stroked
it lightly a couple of times. It was so soft!
  She glanced up again: Beth's eyes were like
saucers and she was biting her lower lip, but she
was still there. Francie motioned to her and,
somewhat to her surprise, Beth also reached out
and stroked the head of Derek's penis. Then she
looked up and smiled. "Penis," she mouthed.
  Francie smiled back. "Cock," she replied in a
low whisper. "Dick." Derek snored on.
  Francie brought both hands into play now,
carefully lifting her brother's organ between
thumb and forefinger and slipping her other hand
beneath, allowing it to rest on her small palm. It
seemed to her to be slightly longer and larger
around than before. She bent forward and studied
it more closely. She knew from basic sex education
at school -- not to mention from Derek's videos --
that this thing was supposed to go into a girl.
She'd wondered about that; the place between her
own legs seemed awfully small for anything larger
than a pencil to enter. And somehow she doubted
that Derek was exceptionally well-hung. He would
have let the world know about such a triumph long
before this! Besides, those guys in the movie. . .
.
  She glanced up at her friend. Beth seemed to
have forgotten some of her nervousness and was
examining their trophy as avidly as she was. "Do
you suppose Brendan Zimmerman looks like this?"
she whispered.
  Brendan was a star soccer player and First
Trumpet in the Eighth Grade Band, and cute
besides, and Beth had had a crush on him all year.
But Francie hadn't considered what he might look
like naked. Brendan was more or less their age and
it seemed unlikely he was any more developed than
Francie and Beth were themselves -- and they were
only just getting started. But Brendan must have a
dick, of course. So, he *must* look at least
basically like this.
  Beth was now blushing furiously. She seemed to
have drawn the same conclusion. Then she got a
thoughtful look. "Do you suppose he masturbates?"
  Francie looked at her, then back at Derek's
organ. She tried to picture him watching his
movies while he rubbed his penis up and down. How
did that work? She'd masturbated herself a few
times, but she didn't think the same methods
applied.
  "I think all boys do that, don't they? They're
all so gross and everything." Experimentally, she
circled her thumb and her first two fingers around
the circumference of her brother's cock and began
moving her hand up and down, slowly and carefully.
Nothing seemed to be happening, so after a minute
she tightened her grip. The increased friction
seemed to help, because she could feel the thing
swelling in her hand. She glanced up at her
friend, whose tongue was practically hanging out
with fascination.
  Beth seemed to make up her mind, inhaled a deep
breath, and took a grip on Derek just below
Francie's hand. The two smiled at each other as
they increased their speed slightly. Derek's
respiration increased, too.
  Francie was aware of a strange feeling between
her legs. It was sort of like when she
masturbated, but she wasn't even touching herself
there. She was beginning to want to, though.
Making sure she wouldn't slide off the bed, she
eased her left hand under her nightshirt and down
into her panties. It seemed wetter down there than
usual.
  Beth was watching closely and seemed more
shocked at what her friend was doing than at what
her own right hand was up to. Then she licked her
lips again and began slowly rubbing her own crotch
through her pajamas.
  Gauging the pace carefully, Francie decided her
brother's erection was probably near its maximum.
His cock was sticking up and out at a sharp angle,
like the bowsprit of a ship. It was much thicker
than before, and it was both hard and soft at the
same time. She thought she could imagine, now, how
it could push its way into a girl's pussy.
  She supposed her own pussy would learn to
stretch itself wide enough to accommodate
something like this when she got a little older.
But the way her fingers were making her feel,
combined with the sensation of a grown-up cock
sliding against the palm of her hand, was quite
enough for now.
  Then Francie had a thought: Maybe a guy's cock
needed a taste of what it was looking for in order
for it to come. Otherwise, a guy might just come
any old time and waste all that white stuff.
Sounded reasonable.
  She stopped teasing her hard little clit for a
moment and eased her fingers farther up inside
herself, trying to get them as wet as possible.
Then she withdrew her hand from her panties and
basted the head of her brother's penis with the
moisture from her pussy. She never stopped jerking
him off, though, and Beth kept pace with her.
  And after another minute or two, Derek made a
sort of faint moaning sound and she could feel a
surge beneath her hand. And then both girls gasped
involuntarily as a fountain of thick, white semen
erupted from the tip of his cock. It splashed down
across their hands and soaked into his pubic hair.
The first spasm was quickly followed by a second
one, not quite so violent, and a third, much
smaller geyser. Derek sighed windily and lay in
silence while both girls froze. The come was
oozing down between their fingers. Then Derek
swallowed and began snoring again.
  Beth rolled her eyes in relief and carefully
extricated her sticky hand. She spread her fingers
and watched several thin white strands droop like
suspension bridge cables. She was feeling very
pleased with herself for having gone this far
without panicking and fleeing the bedroom.
  Francine was rather proud of herself, too. She
brought her fingers to her nose and sniffed. No
aroma. Then, as Beth's eyebrows shot up, she stuck
out her tongue and tasted the stuff. Not much to
it, really. She'd thought sperm would taste like
caviar, or something. Thoughtfully, she wiped her
brother's come on his sheets and Beth did the
same. Then, both girls quietly slipped off the bed
and stole back across the room and out the door.
  When they pulled the door all the way shut, the
*click* of the latch caused Derek to stir in his
slumber. His eyes fluttered open and he smacked
his lips, which were dry and cracked. God, what a
wild dream. Peering down past his chest and
stomach, he saw that his cock was still at better
than half-mast, and twitching. When he took it in
his hand, he was a bit surprised to find he had
come in his sleep. He hadn't had a wet dream in
years. He smiled. Must not be getting enough, he
thought. Have to do something about that. In
another minute, he was asleep again.


  Back in Francie's room at the other end of the
hall, the girls climbed into the same twin bed
without even thinking about it. There were two
beds in her room, so she tended to have a lot of
sleepovers. They both were filled with enthusiasm
at the success of their little adventure. In
excited whispers, they replayed every move and
argued over who had done what. They discussed
Brendan Zimmerman's penis and how big it might be
when it got hard. They wondered how many times a
boy could come in one night and how much semen he
might have available. Francie tried to describe
the taste of the stuff while Beth wrinkled her
nose and stuck out her tongue.
  Then Francie began explaining about the feeling
she'd had between her legs, and whether it was
because of the presence of Derek's cock.
  Beth got up in a crosslegged position in the
middle of the bed. "Do you still feel it?" She
asked. When her friend hesitated, she added,
"Because I do." Then she couldn't believe she'd
said such a thing. Was this what being horny was
like? She decided it could probably make you say
and do peculiar things.
  "Yeah," Francie replied after a moment. "Yeah, I
do, kind of." She squirmed and tried not to look
at the crotch of Beth's pajamas. "Maybe we should
just, . . . you know, . . . get it over with. I
don't think I can go to sleep until I do,
actually."
  "Um. Do you want me to go in the living room or
something while you. . . ?" In return, she tried
not to look at Francie's panties, which were
peeking out from beneath her nightshirt.
  "No, not really." She shrugged and played with
the hem of her shirt. "Why don't we just, like, do
it here? Like, together?" She held her breath.
Suddenly, masturbating in her friend's presence
was a very exciting idea.
  "Um, . . . Okay." Beth lifted the hem of her
pajama top an inch. "Should we. . . ?" When the
other girl nodded, she pulled the top off over her
head, then lay on her back and quickly pushed off
the bottoms, before she lost her nerve. When she
sat up again, naked, Francie's eyes were leaving
tracks all up and down her body.
  Beth was a few months older than her friend but
she knew she was a bit less developed. Her breasts
were shallow cones topped by prominent pink
nipples. Selfconsciously, she sat up straighter
and pulled her shoulders back.
  Francie was chagrined at not having been the
leader this time. With as much nonchalance as she
could manage, she hauled off her nightshirt and
pushed her panties down and off. Her own breasts
were larger than Beth's, large enough to jiggle a
bit when she bounced back up on the bed. Her
nipples were much larger, though, and when she got
aroused, they seemed to expand stiffly all across
the tips of her breasts.
  When Beth looked up, she found Francie staring
into her eyes. As she stared back, Francie spread
her legs far apart, knees straight. There was a
narrow patch of fine brown hair above the moist
crevice. Beth was a little embarrassed by the
bareness of her own crotch, but she matched the
other girl's pose.
  They both sat there for a minute or two, each
examining the other, and aware of being studied in
return. And Francie was determined to regain her
leadership position. Trying to act as if she did
this sort of thing all the time, she let her
fingers drift down between her thighs and began
lightly caressing her clit and the edges of her
pussy.
  Now that she didn't have to break the ice, Beth
found herself able to copy the other girl. With
her legs so far apart, her clit had thrust itself
forward, and her fingertips found it immediately.
She began to stroke the hardening tip of it softly
with her middle finger, inhaling sharply at the
rush of electricity that shot up her spine.
  Within a couple of minutes, both girls were
deeply flushed and breathing heavily. Beth was
rubbing herself much harder and Francie had hooked
her middle finger far up into her snug cunt. Even
the friction of her scant pubic hair against the
palm of her hand was exciting.
  Unable to hold herself upright any longer,
Francie let herself topple over onto her elbow.
She stretched out on her side, bending her upper
knee to allow better access to herself. Again,
Beth followed suit, but since both of them were
right-handed, they found themselves nose-to-knee
with each other. Scooting a few inches in opposite
directions, each girl suddenly found herself with
a close-up view of a damp, aromatic pussy.
  Francie was the first to take advantage of the
situation. Not sure why she was doing it, she let
her hand move from her own crotch to her friend's
hip, then to her inner thigh, then to the edges of
her fine pubic hair, . . . and finally to the
soft, warm flesh itself. As her fingertips
explored Beth's genitals, her friend twitched and
moaned softly. And Francie felt gently exploring
fingers stroking her in return.
  Beth humped her crotch a bit closer to Francie's
hand, which found itself cupping the entire warm
mound. Beth made a breathy sound in the back of
her throat -- certainly the most erotic sound in
Francie's brief experience. It made her own clit
twitch, and now Beth's fingers were stroking the
entry into her cunt, tracing the margins of her
hair, disappearing slowly inside her. Francie's
eyes fluttered closed and she surrendered to the
increasing heat at the base of her gut.
  Beth's mind suddenly was filled with an image
from the film they had watched earlier that
evening -- an image of two girls rubbing their
crotches together, first front-to-front, then with
their legs spread wide, like two pairs of scissors
trying to cut each other. Francie's fingers on her
pussy were making her crazy!
  Quickly, before she could think too much about
what she was doing, Beth rolled over on her back
and reached out to grab Francie's ankle, pulling
the other girl's legs into a scissors position
against her. Before Francie knew what was
happening, her crotch was grinding directly
against Beth's, pussy to pussy. The sensation of
her friend's hot, wet flesh sliding against her
own was beyond description, she thought, as she
rotated her hips, trying to bring some other part
of her body into the exchange.
  For her part, Francie didn't know what to expect
when Beth unexpectedly took the lead in their
mutual masturbation -- except that her pussy was
frantically sending out signals. She couldn't
believe the amount of heat their friction was
producing! And then her own legs were spread wide
between Beth's, and she felt her friend's dampness
in direct contact with her own. She gasped, not
having expected anything remotely like the arousal
that leapt through her body. She pressed her
crotch harder against Beth's while a tiny part of
her brain wondered: Was this how women did "it"
when they made love to each other? Was this
fucking?
  Francie became aware that Beth's eyes were
screwed tightly shut and her mouth was hanging
open. She dragged her thumb down the length of
Beth's clitoris and was rewarded with a
shuddering, jerking gasp from her friend.
  And that set her off. Awkwardly clutching the
other girl's torso between her knees, Francie felt
the first waves of hot electricity gathering in
her lower belly. Then it burst upon her like a
private fireworks show, ricocheting around her
insides and setting off tiny explosions in her
knees and her toes. Some of it apparently leaked
over to Beth, who squeezed Francie's ankles and
tried to rub their crotches together even harder.
Then Beth was jerking and gasping, too.
  It didn't last long -- only forever, Francie
thought -- and then they were both sprawled across
the bed, their combined sweat soaking the sheets.
Beth didn't think she'd ever be able to catch her
breath again as she listened to her friend gasping
just as loudly. Every time she thought about the
overwhelming sensations she had just survived, it
caused a tiny aftershock in her groin.
  Finally, Francie crawled off her side of the bed
and staggered to the bathroom, and Beth followed a
moment later and stood naked in the hall waiting
her turn. Then both girls crawled under the covers
of the single bed and wrapped their arms around
each other, any thought of pajamas or nightshirts
gone forever.
  As Beth began to drift down into the depths, she
heard Francie's sleepy voice murmuring in her ear:
"Well, class, what have we learned today. . . ?"
She smiled and kissed her friend's cheek.
"G'night, Francie."
  The other girl sighed lightly and squeezed her
hand. "G'night, Beth."


                       END


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Copyright 2000 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be
made and posted
elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all
commercial rights are reserved.
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