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"... not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."
That was upstairs, where my parents and kid sister were presumably sound asleep. Downstairs, in the family room, Billy and I sat on the couch, TV volume down low, HBO flickering on the set. They were showing one of the Real Sex series, the segment of the moment a story about strip clubs and lap dancers. Since the customers, the men, were fully clothed, I focused on the women, bare breasted from time to time. They were a lot bigger than my own 34B, but jealousy was never one of my problems. I would have preferred to see the men naked, rather than the women, but that was not to be for the time being. It felt funny watching that stuff, because my home was one where the strongest expletive was "darn it", and where body parts were called by their dictionary names.
My eyes alternated between the screen and Billy's face. My handsome ninth grade class president concentrated on the TV, but I could feel instinctively that he looked at my face while I was watching the screen. We had walked home from school after my already tall next door neighbor had played in a regular Friday night junior varsity basketball game. A second stringer, Billy had come off the bench when the team was trailing by a large margin. Despite his hot shooting, the comeback fell short, and he was still down in the dumps as he left the locker room, showered and smelling pretty, but feeling like a loser. Waiting with a few other girls for our boyfriends to change, we had all been laughing after one of them said, "I'd like to be in there helping them shower." Billy heard the laughter as he walked out and his face fell, until I hugged him and explained the cause. He took my hand and we began walking to my house.
My mom was almost ready to go upstairs when we got home. She and dad were tired from an all-day round of golf and an extended nineteenth hole. She joined us for coffee while we rehashed the game, then kissed us both and went up to join dad. "Not too late, you two."
"No problem mom. We're just going to watch TV for a little while."
I don't think she realized that I saw the quick glance she gave Billy and me before she repeated herself. "Not too late."
I had known before we left for the game just what was going to be on HBO, and had planned to delay over the coffee until the show was ready to start. Maybe mom knew also.
We had been sitting for a while on the couch, my head leaning back against the arm he had around me, my hand on his leg, not moving. As he turned to kiss me, I felt one hand on my breast. I put my free arm around his head and pulled him to my mouth while at the same time, I pressed my chest forward against his gentle fingers. I felt the goose bumps I always felt when he caressed my breasts. When the tingling reached my groin, I began to press my hand against his chest, not to push him away but to caress him as though he had the breasts of a girl and I was the guy. We could hear one of the women talking about the various methods she used to get the men to give her money, and we looked at the screen from time to time, but we were concentrating on each other.
I felt Billy's hand move tentatively to my stomach, just below the bottom of my tank top, and slowly begin its way up my bare skin toward by bra. I had never let him do that before and he moved slowly, obviously afraid to frighten me into a slap on the hand. If only he had known that I had decided that "tonight's the night," at least for bare skin, and who knew what else. I lightly touched his hand through the material, not to restrain him but to let him know that I realized where his hand had gone and was going. Our lips continued to be glued together as, without a word, he slid off the couch and turned to face me, on his knees, while I swung my legs off the floor to lie prone on the couch. He continued to move his hand toward my breasts, our tongues meanwhile fighting for possession of each other's mouth. I reached down to rub the front of his jeans, feeling his hardness through the denim.
When his hand reached my breasts, he gently squeezed them through the soft material of my bra. Insinuating his hand under it to cup a naked breast, he easily rolled the bra over both breasts, exposing them under the tank top, which he likewise then rolled up. Although it was hot enough for short shorts, I was wearing a pair of white jeans, the better to fool my mother into thinking that my mind that day was not on sex. Billy rubbed the front of mine, as I did with his. Tearing his lips away from mine, he brought them down to suckle one of my breasts. Pulling his head onto my nipple, I whispered, so low that he barely heard me. "Suck my breasts, Billy, my darling, nurse like a baby, my love." He did so, with the hand on my jeans pressing my pubic area more insistently.
Illuminated only by the flickering of the TV set, I felt rather than saw him open my jeans and rub his hand on the outside of my panties. In the background, we could barely make out the HBO theme music as the show ended. My mom must have been watching the same show, for suddenly we heard from upstairs "OK, children, it's late. Up to bed, maryjane; home for you, Billy."
"In a minute, mom."
Billy sat back on his haunches as I rearranged myself to look presentable for my mother. His eyes were closed, and then he began to chuckle over the absurdity of the interruption of our intended love-making. We held hands as I walked him to the door. Kissing passionately, rubbing our crotches together, I said "Soon, Billy. I love you, Billy."
"I love you, maryjane."
I trudged slowly, wearily, up the stairs, knocked softly on my parents' door, and peeked in. "Goodnight, mom."
"Goodnight, maryjane. Sleep tight."
Fat chance, I thought. I was so wound up from excitement, from the knowledge that I had been ready for Billy to make me a woman, from the knowledge that I had been ready to give him what I could only give once in my lifetime. My frustration was physical and mental. I splashed some water on my face and went to my room. Stripping to bare skin, I stood in front of the mirror to examine myself before putting on my nightgown. In spite of my tendency to be critical of myself, I was pleased with and proud of what I saw. Fourteen, five foot two, nicely built, I thought. I was quite satisfied with my breasts, and my light blonde pubic hair matched the companion color on my head. I looked down at my vaginal lips and knew that I would never fall asleep until I had masturbated myself to an orgasm.
Leaving the nightgown at the foot of my bed, I slid under the covers, the dark enveloping my body. For a moment, I felt my soul also in the dark, until I thought of Billy, my love, and what we had almost done, what we would soon complete. My hands each massaged their respective breasts, fingers tweaking nipples as I again imagined Billy's lips on them, trying so hard to take the milk which I did not yet produce. One hand slid down to my vagina, my thumb gently forcing its way in, drawing out the moisture which makes it enjoyable for the human race to reproduce. As the thumb probed, my other fingers ventured downward, rubbing the area around my anus. On a sudden whim, realizing that my fingernails were short, I slid my middle finger into my anus, feeling my thumb on the other side of the thin membrane separating the two areas. As my sphincter tightened around my thin finger, I thought that I was too small ever to have a penis in there. I had heard of it, but could not imagine it.
As those two fingers worked together, I brought my other hand down and began to rub my clitoris, first gently and then with passion, with pressure. Soon I was perspiring; I felt the onset of the release approaching, and turned my head into the pillow, to stifle my moans. In an instant, my mind was picturing Billy's body causing that reaction in my body, an orgasm inspired by love rather than by desperation. Now I could sleep.
But sleep would not come. I lay there, covers kicked off, arms spread out in exhaustion, and I could still feel Billy's lips on by nipples, his hand rubbing my crotch from outside my panties. I tossed and turned, wondering when we could be together alone. Covering myself and curling into a fetal position, I masturbated again, digging my fingers deep inside me. Finally the physical pleasure of release overtook the mental pain, and then I slept.
In the morning, mom and I were alone, she sipping coffee and I finishing my PB and J. "How far did you go last night?"
I looked up at her, not saying a word. Possibly my face spoke for me.
"Listen, maryjane, your father and I once went to high school. So did your big brother. We know how children act when they get there. Let's hear it."
"I'm still a virgin."
"That's nice; now answer my question."
My mother, although made of flesh and blood, breathing like all living creatures, was actually a mechanical being in disguise. She was and had always been a human lie detector machine. If I couldn't evade the question, I had to tell the truth. Not that I would in that case have been punished, just that I would have been very embarrassed when she scowled in disbelief at a lie, no matter how effectively presented.
"His hands were under my bra and his mouth was on my nipples. I liked it. Why did you send him home? It wasn't that late. We have no school today."
She smiled at me. She spoke softly. "Some things should not be rushed just to get them over with because you're afraid of being caught. Giving yourself to a man, becoming a woman is one of them. Your father and I are going to San Francisco for the weekend with Billy's parents, your sister will be staying at Lisa's house. Tell him to be gentle, and remember where I showed you the condoms are kept. Remember, too, and this is very important: an erect penis has no conscience."
"How does Dad feel about this?"
"Distressed as hell, but we always knew you were too attractive to hold out forever, and we both approve of Billy. Still, he'll probably have a lousy weekend."
I smiled back at her. "Do Billy's parents know what you've planned for us?"
"They've been to high school too, except they're not going to tell him what I told you, just in case you change your mind."
We hugged. I cried, mom didn't. I could feel the moisture seeping into my vagina. I didn't expect to change my mind.
The day was a blur. Everything I did was mundane, but I couldn't concentrate on any of it. All I could think of was that I would be making love with my lover before I slept again. My body cried out for attention, for relief, but I ignored it, rather I told it to wait until Billy was available to care for it. As soon as my sister left for her friend's house and our parents left for the big city, I was on the phone.
"Hello."
"Hi, superstud, this is maryjane."
"Hello, honey, how are you?"
"Are you doing anything important now?"
"Just talking to you."
"Get over here. NOW."
"Yes, maam."
He walked in the door behind his usual smiling face, his eyes actually twinkling. I reached up to grab him around the neck and pull his face to mine, lips puckered, and pressed my breasts against him as we kissed. Leading him to the couch, I said, "What were we doing last night when my mother interrupted us?" Without waiting for an answer, I pulled my shirt over my head, unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. His eyes fixed on my breasts, I sat on his lap and pressed a nipple into his mouth, holding the back of his head to keep his mouth attached to me. His hand caressed the breast not being suckled. I pulled back, bent to his mouth and kissed him passionately, my tongue exploring the backs of his teeth. Then he pulled back and spoke softly.
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