Waiting in Line for the New iPad

Warning
: This is an
erotic story intended for adults only.

MaxSebastian.net

Copyright © 2013 by Max Sebastian

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover image licensed from Dreamstime.com

It was about 10 o'clock that Dylan started
feeling he'd bitten off more than he could chew with this whole
waiting in line overnight thing.

He'd never done it before, and as he had
rocked up outside the Apple Store just after dinner that evening,
around 6pm, he'd seen all the hardcore techy geeks already camping
out there, and he was given the distinct impression that he was
packing rather light for the night's wait. 

But it was the summer, school was out for
good - until they headed off to college in the autumn - so where
was the need to stress about anything? He had his kindle packed
full of books he could quiet happily bury his head in for hours and
hours on end, it was wonderfully warm out, without a cloud in the
sky.

What did he need sleeping bags or tents or
camping stoves for?

He got quite a good position in the line,
considering - just around the corner from the store entrance, and
the speed the line was forming, in no time he could consider
himself toward the front of the queue. 

He settled down just behind a gaggle of
lively, talkative girls, and ahead of a gloomy bunch of
black-haired emo types.

The girls all seemed to be close friends that
had overlooked the possibility of one of them waiting in line for
all of their purchasing needs when the next iPad officially went on
sale. Well, on the news that morning they'd been saying there would
be limited supplies - the Apple guys would probably restrict it to
one iPad per buyer.

It wasn't the most comfortable place to hang
out - sitting cross-legged with only a backpack holding a paltry
few snacks and drinks to keep him comfortable. But hey, he'd waited
in airports in worse places for longer periods before. And having
the gentle scent of perfume wafting past his nose every now and
again from a group of undeniably attractive girls was mildly
pleasant.

Gazing back on the great long line, it seemed
that those waiting there were all circling into their own little
cliques to wait out the night. It made Dylan feel very much on his
own.

He found some distraction in flicking
surreptitious glances over to the girls if he started feeling
solitary. There were five of them - two blondes, an Asian girl and
two brunettes - all pretty and smiley and bouncy and perky. Behind,
the emo crowd was less entertaining - sullen, moody, and difficult
to tell even what gender many of them were. Those nearest to
him turned their backs on him as they focused on their own little
world of depressing ipod tracks, black clothing and random
piercings.

Each to their own, however. Dylan had always
been a little envious of those students who'd found their own sense
of identity - he was just an average guy who really had nothing
special to write home about. 

Perhaps college would be a chance to
shine.

Sure, he did regret failing to check whether
any of his friends might have wanted to come along, keep him
company in the line. Isaac was never going to vacate a warm bed for
even one night, of course, but Clyde and Justin were always able to
find a hint of adventure in even the most unfortunate of
circumstances. 

But, they'd probably cackle at him for being
a big geek, waiting all night just to get his hands on a new
iPad. Why can't you just wait until the next day, or the next
week, when the rush will be over? They'd probably say something
similar, anyway. Even if he told them it was his sister's birthday
was the following day, and it was seriously important that he get
her desperately-desired tablet before then, they probably wouldn't
understand.

For the first couple of hours he tried to
focus on his book - a chunky Stephen King tome he hadn't gotten
around to reading yet, even though it had been out for a while.

"Hey, how's it going?" his mom called at
about eight o'clock, worried about her little man.

"Oh, fine, yeah. I got a good place in
line."

"Are you warm enough? Do you want me to bring
some more clothing?"

"It's sunny out."

"It won't be for much longer. It gets cold at
night when there's no clouds, Dylan."

"I'll be fine."

He talked quietly into his iPhone, not
wanting to be overheard, especially by the girls up ahead. He
didn't think they'd be listening in - they had their own constant
stream of conversation about this album or that album or the latest
relationship status of friends not currently present to protect
themselves from gossip. Even so, he didn't want them knowing the
only person who knew he was here was his mother.

A little later, as the sun started to drop
rapidly drop the other stores of this open-air mall, and the breeze
took on a slight chill, he started to regret not asking his mother
to bring something warm. He had a thin sweatshirt he could put on -
but he'd been using that as a cushion the past couple of hours,
after his butt went to sleep on that hard concrete sidewalk, and he
was loathed to go back to bare ground.

But seriously, when he glanced over and saw
how attractive those girls were, and how much more stylishly they
were dressed - and clearly more popular than him at whichever
school they attended, you could tell from their bounding
self-confidence levels - there was no way he could have faced a
visit from his mom in front of them. How humiliating that would
be. 

So he'd suffer in silence.

The light faded, and the light of his kindle
came on. Stephen King was always good for passing time - his
conversational style had never failed to comfort Constant Reader
Dylan, even if it was supposed to be horror fiction.

While he did his best to respect their
privacy, some of the girls' conversation did catch his ears from
time to time.

About 10 o'clock, a group of three guys
turned up to say hello to the girls, and Dylan found himself trying
to work out if any of them were actually dating. The girls were
batting their eyelids like crazy as the guys were standing above
them, hurling out gentle taunts about waiting in line all night
with a bunch of tech geeks, the guys pushing out their chests like
big pigeons to flaunt their athleticism, and Dylan had no doubt the
three of them had been on the school football team or whatever.
Probably had sports scholarships to somewhere impressive. 

Dylan had never had particular ambitions in
the field of sports, but he did find himself envious of the easy
way in which the guys just walked on over here and started up a
conversation with these girls.

He'd been sitting here for hours, and hadn't
even introduced himself. Well, their backs were facing him. They
hadn't exactly invited it. Probably would have thought it pretty
weird.

The guys weren't going to stick around too
long, however, after they discovered that nothing they could say
would persuade the girls to bring their queuing ambitions to a halt
and come hang out. They certainly weren't going to join the girls
and risk being mistaken for geeks - as if that could ever
happen.

What made Dylan actively stop reading was the
conversation after the guys withdrew.

The girls started gossiping about one of the
guys having dated a girl they knew from Spanish class, and how he
supposedly had the biggest cock, like, ever. Dylan was mildly
shocked at how dirty the conversation went all of a sudden. He was
a little surprised at how easily the girls discussed such things,
that they were so apparently involved with sex, that it was so easy
to talk about for them. Well, they were college girls now, pretty
much.

A few of them seemed to be envious of the
girl from Spanish class, but then the brunette in the turquoise top
caught Dylan's attention when she dismissed all of the guys out of
hand.

"You're insane!" her friends were of the same
opinion about her.

"Are you kidding? They're so much hard work!"
she laughed. "Give me a vibrator and a pack of double-A batteries
any day."

The whole group had a good squealing laugh
about that.

"Guys are so useless," the brunette said.
Dylan had already figured out from earlier conversation that she
was called Noelle. There was something about her that made his
heart tighten a little when he laid eyes on her, his breath catch,
his pulse quicken a little.

"But they're so nice-looking," countered one
of her friends - a blonde named Chrissy.

"Sure, but they just lie there and look nice
and expect you to get all hot and sweaty until they're ready to
fuck - and then they're in and out so quick. Where's the
reward?"

The other of her blonde friends, Sasha,
added: "Yeah, and when they're done, they really aren't interested
in anything. Except maybe sleep or a cigarette."

"You just need to learn to get yourself going
while you're getting all hot and sweaty with them," the Asian girl,
Ellie, said.

"I guess so," Noelle flashed her eyes. "But
that kind of gets me back to the point that you're better off with
a Pocket Rocket."

Dylan found himself gasping, blushing
furiously, actually shocked at what these girls were talking about
- especially Noelle. He couldn't help but find himself heating up
inside at their startling frankness, particularly when the pretty
brunette in the turquoise top was talking about her own desires and
experiences.

It did make him feel like a bit of a loser
that he'd never really done anything with a girl before. Strange -
he'd never been bothered by that before, figuring he was young,
there was plenty of time at college to go looking for that kind of
thing.

He found himself envious of whichever boys
had been lucky enough to be with Noelle - and actually baffled that
they wouldn't want to be more careful about making sure she was
satisfied in bed. God, if it was Dylan, he'd want to spend hours
exploring her, finding out how to make her moan and shake and come
like crazy. Putting his illicit after-dark reading into
practice. 

"Josie Bannister said she had an orgasm when
she slept with her piano teacher," Ellie said.

"Yeah, but he's like 42. I mean, ewww."

"35, she said."

"Still. I've seen him - he looks like he's
50."

"So you're gonna wait until you're 35 to get
an orgasm?" Sasha nudged Noelle with an elbow.

"Did you not hear me when I said I'm quite
happy with my little Rocket?" Noelle replied.

Oh God, the thought of Noelle lying back in
some bed, touching herself with some little piece of vibrating
magic - Dylan had to change his position a little to give himself
some room inside his pants.

He shook his head, knowing he was only
setting himself up for disappointment by listening into their
conversation. He fixed his eyes back on the continuing narrative of
Stephen King, and the tale of a small town in Maine that is cut off
from the outside world by a strange invisible force field.

But then Noelle's words just cut through the
air, "They're all just lazy - they don't care. They know as
soon as they're inside you, that's it, they've scored another notch
on their bedpost, and they don't need to worry about anything
else."

Dylan ducked down, trying to stop himself
from eavesdropping. Yet he was beginning to feel like sticking up
for his gender - or at least, the members of his gender that
attractive girls like these would never ever think to
date.