Hurricane Twyla

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“You’re not supposed to do that while you’re driving,” Earl said. Doug’s phone was pinging at him, and he couldn’t ignore it. Besides, he wasn’t really driving, he was stopped at a light.

“It’s a Skype request from Twyla Pullens.” A car behind them honked, and Doug tossed his phone at Earl. “See what she wants.”

Twyla had a freckled face and unruly hair that she held behind her head with a big barrette. She appeared on the screen with tropical birds and jungle foliage around her. Earl was confused. It was Friday morning. She should have been on her way to school just like they were. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I thought I called Doug. Never mind. I’m on the west side commuter.” She looked around at the sullen and mostly disheveled riders on the bus. “Oh, I have that background app on.” It was an app that only Twyla had. No-one else could even find it. “I guess you see me in Costa Rica. Where are you guys?”

“Almost to school,” Doug said, and Earl turned the phone so Twyla could see him. “Why’d you call?”

“Eew. Did you just get out of bed?” Doug gave Twyla a look for an answer and pulled into the Senior parking lot. “Now I’m not sure why I called. Oh, I remember. Do you have some time to get together this morning?”

Doug didn’t answer until he stopped his mom’s old SUV and turned the engine off. “Sure, I guess. What for?”

“Gotta go,” Twyla said, and her picture disappeared.

Doug took his phone back from Earl, dropped it into his back pack, and climbed out. He shielded his eyes from the light of a sunny May morning and looked over the car at Earl. “How well do you know Twyla? I’ve known her for a long time—like since we were kids—but not very well.”

Earl slammed the car door and shrugged. “She let me touch her boobs once, but that’s as far as I got.”

Doug laughed and angled through the parked cars toward the school while Earl caught up. He shoved Earl’s shoulder. “That’s as far as you ever get.”

“When did you do better? Anyway, she’s in with that artsy crowd. I think she’s kindof an odd girl.”

Underclassmen hurried to their homerooms while Doug and Earl found their lockers. The PA crackled, and then a voice overhead said, “Doug Stanovski and Earl Dahlquist to the cafeteria.”

Earl looked over Sheila’s head while she rifled the locker next to his. “That’s weird.”

Sheila slammed her locker and looked up at him. “What’s weird?” He didn’t answer right away, so she turned and pushed through the crowd without waiting.

Earl watched her leave then remembered Twyla’s reaction when she saw him on her phone. He looked at himself in the mirror inside the locker door, rubbed his nose, ran his fingers through his hair, and shrugged. That would do.

A few people were scattered around the cafeteria in groups of two or four, but Doug couldn’t see any reason why they should be there until he recognized Twyla sitting with Michelle Thomas. Michelle was prettier than Twyla so Earl was quick to sit down across from her.

Doug sat down facing Twyla. “There was this odd PA announcement that we should come here. Did you do that?”

“A PA announcement? Did it sound like me?” She waved her hand at the room. “You know how it is in here. You can’t understand anything on the PA because of the way all the noise bounces around.”

Doug straightened his back and studied Twyla. He hadn’t looked at her lately. Maybe she wasn’t so pretty, but something in the way she moved seemed really sexy. He was suddenly self-conscious and he stuttered. “Why did you call this morning? That was like totally out of the blue.”

“Do you have second period free? I need help in the costume room, and for some reason I thought of you. Don’t ask why.”

“Second period? That’s usually Sociology, but you know, it’s the last day of classes, and all the work’s done. I can get out of almost anything, but I don’t have anything to do with Theater, or the Thespians, or anything. Where’s the costume room?”

Twyla looked up when the PA popped on. “Michelle Thomas and Twyla Pullens, report to Mrs. Olsen’s office.”

Michelle looked annoyed. “The one time I can understand the PA in the cafeteria, and it’s just to see that biddy.”

Twyla pushed herself up from the table. “In the theater, under the stage. Just get there and wander around. You’ll find me.”

They were walking away and out of earshot when Michelle whispered, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Twyla glanced over her shoulder at the boys. “I don’t have a clue. It’s all new to me.”

* * *

Doug had never been under the stage before. It was a maze. He looked into one door after another, circled without realizing it, and found Twyla in a room full of clothes racks hung with theater costumes. The whole maze was empty but for the two of them.

She smiled at the expression on his face and hung a pirate costume along with other pirate costumes. “Did you get lost?”

“Twice, I think.” He put his backpack down by the door. “What do you want me to do?” Doug watched Twyla while he Bostancı Escort waited for her answer. She wore tight blue jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. Did he see her tits move under the fabric? He couldn’t tell, and then she turned away. She seemed a little nervous when she turned back, but she didn’t do anything to stop him from looking.

“There’s a rack full of dresses over in the corner. We need to hang them back in order on a rack over here. Can you roll them over?” She ducked through the costumes, and disappeared.

Doug found the rack of dresses, but then he had to figure out where Twyla went. He pulled the rack behind him and peered down each aisle until her found her. “What are these for?”

“Those were for ‘Cinderella.’ You didn’t see it, did you? I was the fairy godmother. Hand me the pink dress on the end.”

Doug found the dress and handed it over to Twyla. His hand touched hers as she took the hanger, and he rubbed the spot she touched because it seemed to tingle a little. “I didn’t see it. I was probably playing some video game instead. Was it good?”

She checked a number pinned to the dress and hung it in its spot. “Of course it was good. Now the next one.” She was quiet for a second. “Do you think it’s odd that we don’t talk more, I mean, as long as we’ve known each other and all.”

Doug handed over the next dress. “We used to spend a lot of time together when you lived next door, but not after you guys moved. Maybe we don’t have a lot in common.” He grinned at a shared memory. “Except for playing doctor when we were six.”

Twyla sidestepped down the aisle to hang the dress. “I don’t remember a game or a doctor. I remember being seriously curious, and I remember that you let me find out how different we were. Next.”

Doug passed another dress, and another touch tingled on his hand. “‘Playing Doctor’ is just a figure of speech, but I remember it.”

“And have you told Earl about it? Just give me the next two together. I know they go together.”

He had both dresses in one hand and passed them over. “I haven’t told Earl. It doesn’t seem like a thing to talk about.”

“Really? I told Micki all about it.” Twyla looked up with a little grin. “Do you still have that little birthmark on your butt? Give me the last dress.”

Doug felt his face redden. He handed her the last dress and watched her put it away. “Those things don’t change.”

“No? Some things do.” She tucked the dress into its spot and turned back to Doug. “What you saw then has changed a lot.”

“Well, yeah. Some things change.” Doug shifted from one foot to another and watched for signs in Twyla’s expression or her body language. “We could do that again, you know. It’d be kind of a refresher.”

It sounded so stupid that Doug suddenly regretted saying it. What would she think?

Twyla laughed. It was a nervous laugh, and she seemed to cut it off before its natural end. “We’re alone here, but that just seems like trouble. We’re too old for that, aren’t we?” She stopped and watched Doug’s face. “I’ll do it if you do it.” She twirled her finger to show him what she wanted. “Turn around.”

Doug’s head was spinning, but he turned around and listened to the sounds behind him while he opened his shirt, and then his belt, and pushed his jeans down. He heard the rustle of fabric, and then Twyla’s voice. “You can turn back now.”

He waddled around with his jeans around his knees, and stood with both hands over his cock. She waited with one arm across her chest and one hand over the dark patch of her pubic hair.

Twyla looked Doug up and down. “We’re both cheating. Count of three? One. Two. Three.” They both dropped their hands.

Doug saw a look of disappointment flit across Twyla’s face. He would have covered himself again, but he realized that she saw the same expression cross his face. He was pale and skinny. His uncontrolled hard-on gave her a good review, but he wasn’t the rugged man she might have hoped for. Her body was soft and a little shapeless. Her breasts weren’t small, but they weren’t full and round like the nude models he saw online.

Disappointed or not, they were both fascinated. Doug reached for Twyla then hesitated. “Can I touch you?”

Twyla didn’t answer at once. Her eyes were on Doug’s chest, and she pulled her hand back just before she touched him. “No. We shouldn’t. That’s enough.” She turned away again. “This isn’t a good time, and if we started, I wouldn’t want to stop.”

Doug hurried to pull his jeans up and button his shirt. “Is later a good time? When is a good time?” He stopped with his shirt half closed. “Are you going to tell Micki all about this?”

“Maybe I will.” She turned around to face Doug again with her clothes all back in place. “Are you going to tell Earl?”

“That couldn’t be good.” The bell to end the period interrupted him. “He told me that you let him touch your tits, but then you didn’t let me.” He tried to squelch the hurt tone in his voice, but it didn’t work.

“That was then, Anadolu Yakası Escort and he groped me through my shirt and my bra. It wasn’t like this, and he’s been trying to do it again ever since. Maybe when he tries again I’ll just let him do it and see what he has in mind.

“Don’t tell him that. Let him figure it out.”

The PA popped on before Doug could answer. “Twyla Pullens, see Michelle Thomas in the cafeteria.”

Doug picked up his backpack and waited by the door while Twyla shouldered a little purse. “They don’t let me skip Calculus. You wouldn’t really let him do that, would you? I thought we might get a thing going. And who’s making these announcements?”

“And why does everyone in the whole damned school need to know that Micki wants to see me?”

Twyla led Doug out of the maze, and they went different directions. He went to class, and she went to the find Michelle, who sat alone at a table and raged to herself. She didn’t even wait for Twyla to sit down. “Earl Dahlquist is a jackass.”

Twyla set her purse on the table and sat down with Michelle. “Didn’t we already know that? What happened?”

“We both have Chem II in second. I got a titty hard-on and I didn’t even notice, or know why. He started making fun of my headlights whenever Trauch turned his back. Then I turned red, and he made fun of me for that. I swear, the more he made fun of me, the harder my nipples got. There wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

“Yeah, well THOs happen, and so do idiots.” Twyla opened her little purse and searched it for a second before she held out a foil-wrapped truffle. “Have a chocolate.”

Michelle took the truffle that Twyla offered and unwrapped it. “Thanks. Chocolate is the best medicine. Don’t you have a class now?”

“History of Western Thought. The class is all seniors, and most of them aren’t even here. I’m only here to make my mom happy. Strong just keeps the door open so people can come and go. I’ll just stay gone.

“How did you get them to call me down here?”

Michelle bit into the chocolate before she answered, “I didn’t. Why did you come down here?”

“It was on the PA.” Twyla watched Michelle finish the chocolate on the second bite. “Oh, never mind. There’s something odd going on.”

Michelle wadded the foil wrap into a ball and left it on the table. “I thought you had more than one reason for being here. How did it work out with Doug?”

“We got naked, and I got nervous.”

Michelle glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to hear her. “Are you really going through with this? I mean, how are you going to get laid if you’re so nervous about it?”

Twyla set her jaw. “It’s time and I’m going through with it. I picked Doug, but if I can’t make him work out, then it’ll be someone else.” She waved her hand toward a group of boys laughing together on the other side of the room. “Maybe even Michael.”

Michelle glanced in the direction of Twyla’s wave. “Michael’s gay.”

“Yeah, but he’s fun, and he has the right equipment. I’m horny enough to try.”

They were interrupted when Earl swung his leg over the bench, sat down next to Twyla, and flicked Michelle’s wad of foil off the table. “Why’d you leave so fast after Chem? I was having fun.”

Twyla didn’t wait for Michelle. “You just answered you’re own question. You know, you don’t impress a girl very much by embarrassing her.”

Earl sat back and grinned at Twyla. “For that, I depend on my great personality and good looks.”

Michelle laughed, stood up from the table, and picked up her books. “Too much for me. I’ll text you about lunch.”

Twyla watched Michelle leave then caught Earl staring at her chest. He snapped his eyes up. “How’d it go with Doug. Did he get your job done?”

“Some of it. There’s still more to do, but he had a class.”

Twyla might have had more to say, but the PA interrupted her. “Earl Dahlquist and Twyla Pullens report to the Journalism Lounge.”

Earl looked around at the underclassmen talking or studying at tables closest to them. No-one even looked up. “Where is that coming from? It doesn’t even sound right, and it looks like we were the only ones who even heard it.”

Twyla closed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “They put out the last paper on Wednesday, and the Journalism website says ‘Thank you, Seniors. Have a great summer.’ I doubt there’s anyone in the Journalism Lounge.”

Earl jumped up. “Let’s go check it out.” He tugged Twyla up by her elbow, but he didn’t need to. She was already on her way.

Twyla was right. The lounge was unlocked, but the only light came from the north windows, and the circle of sofas usually filled with Journalism students was empty.

Earl closed the door behind them while Twyla dropped onto a cushion. He settled down close beside her and laid his arm across the cushion behind her neck. “It’s really quiet in here.”

Twyla moved over until her shoulder stopped against Earl’s chest. “I wonder who wanted us to come here, Ataşehir Escort and why.”

Earl let his arm settle down around Twyla’s shoulders. “I know why I’m here. How about you?” He was moving too fast to let her get nervous.

Twyla laid her head back to look up at Earl. “Did you lock that door?” She didn’t really need an answer, and he didn’t give her one. He kissed her lips once then caught his breath and pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Earl’s kiss was rough and eager, but Twyla met his tongue with hers. She let him explore her mouth, and his breath was hot and shallow on her cheek. Earl was getting excited—more excited than Twyla was—but still, when he cupped his hand around her left tit, she lifted it against his touch.

Twyla clutched at Earl’s arm and turned her head to catch her breath. “I think you really like this.”

Earl kissed her throat and her cheek, and his voice was hoarse in her ear. “God, I’m turned on. I love your tits.”

Twyla laughed, but Earl stifled her again with his tongue in her mouth. To Twyla, there was hardly anything exciting in what he was doing in her mouth. His tongue was hard and it flicked around without much reason, so she stopped trying to return his kiss.

Earl opened her shirt, pushed his hand inside, and squeezed her tit. Twyla did nothing to slow him down, and Earl pushed his hand into the cup to touch her soft skin. He broke their kiss and watched her face while he squeezed her tit, and then he slipped his hand out of her shirt and between her legs.

Twyla caught her breath and ducked against Earl’s chest. She’d hardly ever let anyone get that far. Spreading her thighs was pure reflex, and the crotch of her jeans was suddenly soft and damp.

Earl pulled her closer. He laid his leg across her lap, and he chanted in her ear. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

“What are you doing?” Twyla was confused. Earl rocked against her thigh and ground his hips against her. He stopped for a moment and grunted in her ear. He did it again until his body relaxed.

Earl started breathing again, and his weight bore down on Twyla. She had to push herself away. “What did you do? Did you just come in your pants?” She stood up and gestured at him with both hands. “Look at you. You jackass! You just came in your own pants.”

He was hardly paying attention. Earl sighed, and his eyelids drooped. “That was a great handjob. Where did you learn to do that?”

“God, you’re gross!” Twyla tucked her tit back into her bra. “That was no handjob. I never even touched your dick.” She buttoned her shirt, picked up her purse, and stormed out of the lounge. Hurricane Twyla veered north toward the restroom, and storm signals rose all along the hallway.

* * *

Michelle looked up from her salad and leaned across the table to Twyla. “Doug and Earl are behind you.”

“Are they coming this way? I don’t want to talk to Earl. Not now. Maybe never.”

Michelle sat back and let her shoulders relax. “They’re sitting down. I don’t think they saw us. Wait, Earl’s going back for something.

“You know, Doug seems like an OK guy, but he’s like best friends with Earl. Do you think there’s something wrong with Doug? Or is there something about Earl that isn’t just awful?”

Twyla dug through her purse and pulled her phone out. “How are you going to find out? Tell me when Earl gets back. I need to tell Doug something.” She sent her Skype request just a couple swipes and selections later.

Michelle watched every move Doug made. “He’s getting into his backpack. He has his phone. I don’t see Earl coming back.”

Twyla didn’t even get ‘Hello’ from Doug. She got, “Whoa, you need to get out of the weather. Where are you?” On his screen, dark clouds swirled behind Twyla and lightening jumped across the sky.

Twyla shook her head. “I don’t need to get out of the weather. I am the weather. When you’re talking to Earl, you’re talking to a fool. He’s probably going to tell you a story about what happened before lunch. Don’t believe a damned thing the fool tells you. I’ll tell you the truth later.”

Michelle’s posture tensed. “Earl’s on his way back.”

“I gotta go. Remember what I said.” Twyla hung up and set her phone down. “Maybe that’ll help. Maybe it won’t. Getting laid is getting complicated.” She looked up at the clock behind Michelle. “Tell me if Doug gets up. I want to talk to him.”

Michelle looked down at her salad, but talked to Twyla. “Earl just noticed us and I think he saw me looking. He’s leaning over the table and laughing about something.”

It wasn’t even a whisper when Earl told Doug, “I just saw Micki watching us. I bet Twyla told her how good it was, and she wants some, too.”

Doug sat back and watched Earl’s foolish grin. “You’re going to tell me this, even if I don’t want to hear it, right?”

“You’re damn right I am! Twyla’s hot, man. She wanted me bad.

“I got her alone in the Journalism Lounge, and I couldn’t go fast enough. First base, second base, third base just like bang, bang, bang. Her cunt was wet. She spread her legs, and I could feel it right through her jeans.”

Doug shifted in his chair. Neither of them had ever gotten very far past second base with a girl, and it sounded like he might get left behind. “What happened to your home run?”

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