My First Time Was with the Devil by Frederick K. Foote
My First Time Was with the Devil by Frederick K. Foote
My sister Nora was two years older and a super student-athlete in high school. Her best friend, Toshiko Yamasaki, aka Tosh, was another star student-athlete and an all-around unpleasant person. Tosh and I were enemies at first sight. We had a mutual dislike for each other that was organic and intensified over time.
The first time I met Tosh, I was fourteen. She knocked on our front door, and I opened it to see this angry-looking girl, short dress, thick legs, small breasts, dense black hair, and intense dark eyes. She kinda sniffed at me like I was shit on her shoe. She started to step into the house. I slammed and locked the door.
Nora yelled from the kitchen, “Eddie, who was that at the door? I’m expecting my friend Tosh.”
Tosh was now ringing the doorbell.
Nora was insistent, “Eddie, who’s at the door?”
“Don’t open it, Nora, it’s the Devil, honest.”
“Eddie, you asshole. If that’s Tosh…”
Mom stepped out of the kitchen. “You two, cool it. I mean it.” Mom gave us her, “don’t fuck with me”, look and answered the door.
Tosh was polite, smiled, introduced herself, offered her hand to our mom, and pretended to grin at me. The Devil didn’t fool our mother. I could tell.
Mom returned to the kitchen, and as Tosh and Nora went upstairs, Tosh put her hands behind her back and gave me the finger with both hands. That’s how I met the Devil.
“Mom, I don’t like Tosh. Tosh is evil.” I was loading the dishwasher as Mom put away the clean dishes.
Mom touched my shoulder, “Tosh may not be my cup of tea either, but Nora needs a friend and a supportive brother. I need you to be that supportive brother, understand?”
“But, Mom— “
“No buts. You have your art and good friends. Nora just lost her best friend. Be kind to your sister’s new BFF.”
At first, it was a war of mean-mugging and insults delivered out of sight and hearing of Mom and Nora.
Tosh was into name-calling and threats. “I’ll fuck you up so bad, Puke Face. You’ll never slam a door on anyone again, Ass Wipe.”
I had sharper spears in my armory, a hardcore of truth draped in lies. “Try it, you friendless fuck. My sister hangs with you because her real best friend just died. You’re just a rebound friend.” I saw and relished the flash of pain in her demon eyes when my taunts hit home.
We escalated to sabotage. Tosh struck first. I drew graphic novels and comics. She slipped into my room and glued the pages of my new story together with nail polish. I was pissed.
When the Devil was dropped off at our house for Mom to take her and Nora to their high school basketball game, I super glued Tosh’s uniform into her shoes. She was like crazy, mad.
We escalated to physical attacks. Tosh elbowed me in passing. I “accidentally” stepped on her toes. We upped our game. She pushed me down the stairs in my own house. I almost broke my arm.
I returned the favor about a week later when Tosh’s mom invited us to dinner at their house. I tripped the Devil as she carried in canned goods from the garage. She sprained her wrist and had to miss two ball games.
“Tosh, the team plays better when you ain’t playing. And they’re so much happier. You notice that?”
“At least I can play. You spend your time playing with yourself, dickless, fuck-face.”
The showdown came about three weeks after the wrist-spraining.
Tosh and Nora were in my sister’s bedroom one morning. About an hour after Tosh arrived, Mom took Nora to the dentist. I was in my room drawing. The next thing I knew, Tosh had slipped into my room and slapped me upside my head so hard with a schoolbook that it knocked me right out of my chair.
She was on me like a mad dog, punching, growling, and cursing. I was too surprised even to cover up. I finally started fighting back. I caught her with a lucky wild punch that knocked her off me.
She came back at me hard before I could get to my feet. She was on my back with her arm around my throat.
“Say something smart, now you little faggot, prick, asshole, shit-head, motherfucker. Say something now.”
I was starting to see red as I reached back and grabbed a handful of her thick black hair and pulled as hard as I could. She screamed, released her chokehold, and grabbed my arm. I rolled her over and kneed her in the gut. She let go of me. I scrambled away and tried to stand, but she was on the attack again.
Tosh was a much better and more aggressive fighter than I was. I was just trying to get up and maybe get away.
Somehow her top tore open and breasts about the size of golf balls were visible. She wasn’t wearing a bra and didn’t even seem to be aware of her wardrobe malfunction.
The fight was almost over. She had me beat.
I kicked at her in desperation, knocked her off her feet. She fell on me. Instinct took over. I closed my mouth over her breast. I didn’t bite. I sucked. I never had a girl’s breast in my hands, much less my mouth. It felt amazing. I mean, I felt complete, connected, like I was home at last.
Tosh snatched up one of my paintbrushes by the brush end. “Let go, motherfucker, or I’ll take out your fucking eye. I mean it. I will.”
I didn’t believe her. Her voice was weak. The brush was trembling in her hand. She hadn’t tried to pull her boob out of my mouth. I couldn’t let go. I just couldn’t let go for life or death.
I looked Tosh in the eyes. I tried to make her see that I couldn’t let go. Tosh blinked, licked her lips, dropped the brush. She started fumbling with my belt. She eased my sticky dick into her wet pussy, and all that breast connectedness was like a grain of sand compared to a continent.
“One time. Just this one time, Ass Wipe. You understand.” I didn’t understand. I kissed her. I was so needy. She responded. She was so greedy. We were getting ready for round two when we heard my Mom and Nora come into the house.
I yelled down to them that Tosh had gone home. I locked my door. I jumped back into her pussy.
Later that night, we were doing it again. The Devil asked, “Eddie, why are you crying, you asshole, huh?”
I smiled through my tears of joy and reached for her rock-hard nipples with my mouth and hand.
Tosh tiptoed out our back door about five in the morning. “Never again, little boy. Never again.” Tosh said that as she stuffed her cum-soaked panties into my underwear. “Something to remember me by.” My devilishly delicious first sex partner couldn’t stop smiling as she spoke.
Copyright Frederick K. Foote 2020