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Message-ID: <36874asstr$1024553405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "smilodon" <smilodon@postmaster.co.uk>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2002 21:09:59 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Story Falling for Jenny (teen.rom.first)
Date: Thu, 20 Jun 2002 02:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I wrote this story to explore for myself what 'erotic' means. Comments
welcome. (e-mail or post)

Falling for Jenny



I was in my last year at school and the rest of my life was stretching out
before me, a featureless landscape and me without a map. The boarding school
I attended was all boys so interaction with the opposite sex was restricted
and girls remained a mystery to most of us. Not that this stopped us from
endlessly discussing girls and their anatomy. Like most seventeen year old
boys, my pals and I were obsessed with the subject.

My own experience was limited although, in my view at that time, glorious. A
couple of weeks on student educational cruise had provided me with several
opportunities for some serious groping and I had even scored once with a
skinny blonde girl behind a lifeboat on a windless night off the coast of
Turkey. This hadn't been my first experience, that had been after a school
drama production performed jointly with the local girl's school the summer
before. My introduction to sex hadn't been entirely satisfactory as I had
come within about thirty seconds and the female participant had been less
than impressed - it was far from her first time!

So it was that this rampant bunch of perambulating hormones that I called
friends met together every Wednesday after Rugby Training to nurse our
bruises and talk about girls. (For any American readers, Rugby Football is a
game that vaguely resembles American Football but played without helmets or
padding with fifteen players on each team). As members of the school First
XV (My school fielded several teams in different age groups, the First XV
were the cr me de la cr me.) we enjoyed certain privileges such as being
allowed to 'walk out' on Wednesday evenings as well as Saturdays. This meant
we could leave the wooded cloisters of the school and head into the local
town, which wasn't much to write home about but at least had a semblance of
civilisation.

We all used to gather in the town's single coffee bar, picturesquely named
the Cresta Run and it was here, over endless cups of cappuccino, that we
discussed that subject closest to our hearts and gonads. Sometimes we were
fortunate enough to be vouchsafed a glimpse of a real girl or two as the
coffee bar was open to all but most of the town girls avoided the place,
probably because of our presence - they deemed us 'school boys' and
preferred the company of the more liberated local swains. With what was then
the typical English Boarding School mentality, the older pupils of the Girls
' School were not allowed into town on the same days as us. They could 'walk
out' on Wednesday afternoons and Sundays so there was little contact between
us all that was not heavily controlled and tightly chaperoned.

This particular Wednesday I had had to miss Rugby Training owing to a slight
injury picked up in a match the previous week-end and thus it was, more out
of boredom than anything else, that I went into town early, intending to buy
a few things I needed in the local shops before joining the rest of the lads
in the Cresta Run. It was a typical November evening, not yet 5:30 but dark
already and rain falling from a grim and troubled English sky. I shouldered
my way into the shop out of the weather and promptly collided with someone.
The someone gave a small "Oooffff!!!" and I looked down into the bluest eyes
I have ever seen. They were a really dark blue, almost navy blue and from
that moment I was lost. "Sorry" I mumbled but the connection between my
brain and my tongue seemed to have gone missing. I just stood there, holding
eye contact and staring for what seemed like an age. The owner of the eyes
stared back. "Well aren't you going to move then?" she said. She was
gorgeous! I could tell straight away that she was a senior from the Girls''
School. She was wearing their horribly unflattering grey raincoat that
always appeared several sizes too big but on her it looked like a Chanel
gown. She had shoulder length dark brown hair that had a touch of curl and
pale, pale skin with a hint of freckles across the bridge of her nose and
cheeks. I felt myself blush scarlet. I have reddish brown hair and colour up
a bright red when embarrassed, a source of much ribbing by my friends.

I couldn't find my voice. I dumbly moved to one side and held the door open
for her. I swear to God my mouth was open like a frog catching flies. I was
desperately willing myself to say something, anything at all to prolong this
contact. My brain had gone AWOL. Fortunately for me, she was not similarly
afflicted. " You look like you've never seen a girl before" she said but
there was no hint of malice, almost the reverse. "Not one like you" I
managed to stammer and then muttered " Oh shit, that was so corny!" She
chuckled. Not a silly giggle but a sound of genuine amusement. "I mean, Oh
god I don't know what I mean just not what that sounded like". I was
genuinely miserable, here was this delight and I was blowing it all away. "I
thought it sounded quite nice, actually... of course, if you didn't really
mean it..." She had a playful look in those beautiful navy eyes and I was a
complete gonner. "Would you like a coffee?" I stammered, the Cresta was just
across the street. "OK" she replied brightly, "but I can't be long, the
'witching hour approaches' when we've got to be back." I nodded
understanding. They were due back in school by 6.30 and it was a good twenty
minute walk from the town. We had the same problem. Due back by 10:00 with a
similar walk in the opposite direction.

"I'm Paul, by the way, Paul MacDonald." "I'm Jenny Anderson" she smiled
"Spinster of this Parish and, as you can guess, inmate of the Bloody Tower".
This latter was a reference to the Victorian architecture of her school,
which resembled a medieval castle. It had been built by some 19th Century
Industrialist with more money than taste and taken over by the School in the
1920's. We entered the Cresta Run and found a table. I fetched coffee from
the bored-looking drone behind the counter and sat down to gaze in wonder at
this fabulous girl. Again I was tongue-tied but Shakespeare came to my
rescue "Oh brave new world that has such creatures in it" I said with a
grin. Her chin came up sharply, eyes narrowing. "No I meant it" I hurriedly
reassured her, "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen". "And you are the
captain of the First XV, have some semblance of brain as well as having the
muscles and feature in the fantasies of most of the fourteen year-olds in
our school." I was taken aback. "You know who I am?" She positively smirked.
"We know who you all are. Paul Macdonald, Andy Wilmot, Dave Simmonds, Mark
Heath, Pete Marsden, Will Hayward, need I go on? Of course, it does help
that your names are in the local paper every other week and if ever there is
a photograph, the hormone count in the Junior Common Room goes through the
roof!" I was flabbergasted.

She saw the look on my face. "Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't know.
There is not much to grab our attention in this Godforsaken place. The
'heroes' from the Boy's School are little enough to fixate on, God alone
knows, but you're better than nothing!" A smile took the sting out of this.
"No" I said "No kidding, I didn't have a clue. I mean, we are all 'fixated'
on you girls, I know, but we don't know who any of you are. Goddesses
glimpsed through the bars of our cage, you know how we're deliberately kept
apart. I just didn't think that girls were the same way." "You don't know
much about girls, do you?" I nodded assent. She grinned. "I suppose you
think of us as all pure and virginal when in truth we're rabidly randy and
mad for it! Actually, most of us are pure and virginal as well - but not
from choice! I swear they keep us apart in an attempt to breed the next
generation of lesbians or whatever. " Her blue, blue eyes were twinkling and
I was convinced she was laughing at me. "Am I making you feel
 uncomfortable?"
"Uh, no well not really. It's just you're not what I expected."
"Oh? I disappoint you?"
I stammered "No, no not at all. I'm just, well, confused, I guess."
"Let me guess, you don't know what to say to a girl"
"Uh, I, uh" I was starting to sound like a real Neanderthal.
"That's the problem!" she emphasised this with a smack of her hand on the
table that made the coffee cups jump. "You think girls are a different
species. They keep us apart and suddenly you can't think of a thing to say
to 50% of the human race. They call that education! If our Schools were
co-ed, I bet you would spend a lot less time thinking about sex that you all
do now!"
I grinned. "I'm not sure about that! If you were in my classes I don't think
I could think of anything else! Oh God," I groaned, " I meant think about
anything else but you!"
"I'll take that as a compliment either way. Oh Christ, look at the time. I'
ve got to run."
"Are you coming in on Sunday?" I asked desperately. She nodded quickly. "I'
ll meet you here at 2.30, OK?" I could hear the pleading in my voice. She
looked at me uncertainly. "You're not allowed out on Sundays". "I'll think
of something. Meet me?" She looked at me strangely. "Please?"  "Ok" she
sighed "But don't get into trouble on my account". I shrugged. "Must go" she
said and fled the coffee bar, taking my heart with her.

Andy, Dave and the others arrived shortly after she left. I was sitting
there in a dream. Oh brave new world... The lads soon noticed my reverie.
"What's up with you?" Mark asked. "Nothing, I just met the most incredible
girl. Jenny - from the Bloody Tower. She just left." "Has she got big tits?"
It was Dave this time. Dave was absolutely obsessed with big tits. He wasn't
alone in this, as you might guess, but Dave had refined it to an art form.
" Uh, I don't know" I replied "I don't think so" There was an incredulous
silence. I looked around at the assembled faces and said "What?" Much
head-shaking was going on. "Our Boy has got it bad" "Didn't notice!" "Men,
this is serious" "I do believe our Gallant Captain is in love!!!" They were
all grinning and working themselves up to a real session of taking the piss
out of me when I said "I arranged to meet her on Sunday so I need a Plan!"
There was a thoughtful pause. "You need a psychiatrist not a plan" said Andy
"You'll be gated for sure if you go over the wall". "Only if they catch me"
I replied for a germ of a plan was twitching softly in the back of my mind.

Thursday and Friday dragged by. Saturday we had a home match against some
other school. I don't remember who. We won, but little thanks to me, I was
awful, dropping passes and missing tackles that I would normally have eaten
up. If substitutes had been allowed back then, the coach would have taken me
off at half time. Instead I got a real roasting and even the team looked at
me with veiled anger in their eyes. Everyone can have a off-day but they
could see I wasn't focussed - wasn't really trying. Truth to tell for the
first time in my life I wasn't interested. My whole consciousness was
consumed by Jenny. Her face seemed to hang before me wherever I looked.
Strong words were exchanged after the game. Only Andy took my side asking
the others if they'd never had a bad game and could they remember me ever
having had one before.

Saturday evening came and it was time to put my plan into action. I went to
the School Chaplain and told him I was having a 'crisis of faith.' Like
quite a few of Scottish ancestory, I'm a Catholic and the School was
stalwartly Church Of England so it was not difficult to persuade the
Chaplain that I needed to see Father Carol in the town. I got my pass as
easy as pie. The Chaplain was a nice old boy and he probably saw through
me - I'd never displayed any religious bent before - but he gave me a pass
and that was that. It was only a small forgery to alter the return time from
3.00 to 5.00 and I was ready to go.

She was waiting for me outside the Cresta Run. Being Sunday, it was closed
,of course. I hadn't thought about that. Some of Jenny's friends were across
the road, conspicuously not looking at us but giggling together like, well,
a bunch of schoolgirls. I felt unbelievably self-conscious. Jenny,
apparently felt the same as she smiled at me shyly and said "What are we
going to do now, then?" "I, erm, mmmh, we could go for a walk?" "Ok" she
said "Why not". Fortunately it was dry and though the sky was leaden, it
wasn't too cold. We wandered off in the vague direction of the river where
there was a tarmac walkway by some sorry-looking weeping willows. Our
shyness eased as we walked and talked. I learned she lived in the same town
as Andy. She had two older sisters and a younger brother. Her sisters had
also been to the Bloody Tower and had gone on to earn good degrees. She felt
familial pressure to emulate them. I told her I was an only child but my
Father was a Doctor and harboured hopes of me following in his footsteps but
that was not for me. We must have walked and talked for a couple of hours.
All too soon it was time for me to go back. We agreed that I couldn't swing
the crisis of faith stunt too often but arranged to write to one another
until the end of term, only four weeks away. I had already decided to invite
myself to Andy's house for at least part of the Christmas vac and finally,
as it was time for me to go, I took her hand. I looked into those amazing
eyes and everything I was going to say went straight out of my head. She
placed her fingertips lightly to my lips and said "Don't say anything, you
don't need to. I'll see you at Christmas." I caught the hand that touched me
and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She angled her face upwards and
kissed me full on the lips, her tongue flicking out into my mouth. I must
have moaned out loud as I hugged her to me. She wasn't much above 5'4" in
her flat school shoes and I'm around six feet two. She felt like a little
doll in my arms. We kissed another couple of times and then I had to go. I
turned back as I hurried away up the lane towards  the school and was madly
pleased to catch her looking back at the same time. She raised a hand
briefly in parting then spun away and broke into a run towards her waiting
friends.

The rest of the term finally went by on feet of lead and then it was out of
the drab confines of school into that bright technicolour world outside of
parties and girls and real people. Fixing up to visit Andy was easy and I
had arranged to stay for a few days over New Year. I wrote to Jenny nearly
every day and she replied with the same frequency so by the time Christmas
was over and it was time to go to Andy's I was beside myself with
excitement. It seemed to me that I had known her for ever although we had
only met twice. Our correspondence was long and varied. We had poured out
all our hopes and fears to each other but, surprisingly I suppose, had never
got into any intimate sexual stuff. Not that my past was anything to get
excited about. I was just coming up to seventeen and a half and Jenny was
almost exactly a year younger that me. No time for too much of a past for
two middle-class kids locked up in boarding schools for three quarters of
the year.

Andy was just the kind of friend anyone could wish for. His parents had
arranged a ski-ing trip to Klosters for New Year. Andy had declined, even
though he loved to ski and had arranged a New Year's party. "We're short of
a few girls" he told me over the phone (we always were) "D'you think your
Jenny could help?" I phoned her right away and she agreed to invite some of
her friends whom, she was convinced, would love to come a party even at such
short notice. "I can't believe I'll actually see you tomorrow" I told her
and she laughed "In the flesh". 'God I do hope so', I thought and was off in
fantasy land for the rest of the evening.

I phoned her as soon as I arrived at Andy's place and fixed up to meet her
in a couple of hours. "You'll have to come here, I'm afraid. I've been going
on about you so much that my sisters will kill me if they don't get to meet
you." I reluctantly agreed and presented myself for inspection some two
hours later. I'd manage to avoid the attentions of the school barber for the
last bit of term so my hair was approaching what was to me a 'respectable'
length, just covering my ears and curling on my collar and, of course, I was
not dressed in anything resembling school clothing. Neither was Jenny. She
was in a ribbed sweater and mini-skirt, her lustrous hair curling about her
face. It was the first time I had really been able to appreciate her figure;
I'd known she was slim but that old school raincoat had hidden the truth.
She was perfect. Her legs were slim and tapered to trim ankles. He waist was
tiny and her breasts - well they weren't Dave's Big Tits but they were
perfectly in proportion to the rest of her. I did my frog-catching-flies
impersonation again. I was wearing cord Levi's, that were a lot tighter than
my school-inspired flannels, topped off with a crew-neck sweater that the
emphasised the width of my shoulders. From Jenny's reaction, she liked what
she was seeing too.

Somehow I stumbled through meeting her family. Her sisters were also
stunning-looking though they didn't compare with Jenny in my eyes. Her
little brother was thirteen and gazed at me with huge eyes - he's seen me
play for England Schoolboys against Wales, a match we'd won against bitter
rivals - so I could no wrong. Her father turned out to be a mild man who
appeared slightly bemused to have sired three such beautiful daughters but
one look at Jenny's mother should have told him the odds were quite high.
Jenny was so like her mother it was uncanny. The same navy blue eyes and
trim figure. For a woman in her late forties she was a knock-out but I didn'
t care. I had Jenny. I think I must have been a permanent shade of scarlet
throughout the ordeal - I even heard one of Jenny's sisters ask "Do you
think he's always that colour?" which made me blush even more so I was
really glad when Jenny rescued me with some made-up excuse about meeting a
friend in town.

Out in the crisp December air we walked, hand in hand into the town. "I've
missed you so much" I told her. "Silly," she replied. "We've hardly just
 met" but I could see she was pleased. We spent the afternoon wandering
around town. I persuaded her to have her photograph taken in a portrait
studio in the town. She was reluctant at first but I talked her round. I
have that photo still. Reluctantly I walked her home even though it was only
two or three hours before I would see her again at Andy's party.

If I'm truthful I didn't really have any idea what to expect from my first
proper date with Jenny. I drove my battered old Mini over to her house to
pick her up, we were to collect some of her friends as well, I only knew
that as long as I was with her the world was a really OK place to be. I was
inordinately proud of my car. I'd earned the money to pay for it from a
labouring job during the previous summer holiday and had passed my test a
couple of days after my seventeenth birthday. Tonight, however, I really
wished it was an MG or a Jaguar, anything more impressive than an
eight -year old mini with the rust beginning to show. Jenny didn't seem to
care. She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the Lounge to meet her
schoolfriends. They suddenly didn't look like schoolgirls at all. Make up,
mini-skirts, tight sweaters. The Boys were in for a treat! I managed to
squeeze all this pulchritude into the car and we took off for Andy's. We
dropped those three and then Jenny and I went off somewhere else to pick up
another three. We weren't going to be short of girls at this party! Most of
my friends had been able to make it over for the party. Andy and Jenny lived
near London as did quite a few of the others including Dave. Mark couldn't
make it as he lived in Scotland and Dave was already crowing wildly about
what Mark was missing.

The party was in full swing and Jenny and I danced and laughed and talked
and danced some more. Couples were starting to pair off and the music was
turning slow and smoochy. I was sitting in a big deep armchair with Jenny in
my lap, cuddling her and nuzzling the back of her neck. Some of the guys
were slightly drunk - the ones who hadn't managed to pair off - but there
was an air of suppressed sexuality in the place as tentative groping
escalated to passionate fumbling. "Let's go to my room" I whispered to Jenny
and we eased out of the main living room and up the stairs, anxious not to
attract the attention of the drunks. I opened the door of my room, kicked
out the couple groping each other on my bed and lay back, beckoning to
Jenny. She put her finger to her lips and locked the door. She switched off
the lamp and moved to open the curtains, letting in the pale moonlight. I
lay there in silence, waiting. Jenny began to dance. Whatever music she was
following was entirely in her head but she swayed and moved and spun to its
subtle rhythm. I was entranced. Her clothes seem to dissolve as she danced.
I cannot recall actually seeing the moment when she took anything off but
there she was, suddenly nude and clad only in the silver of the moon.

I forgot to breathe, I certainly couldn't move. Jenny continued to dance
just out of my reach. Her face was serene. Her lithe movements were slow and
sinuous. Even writing this thirty years later, it is still the most erotic
thing I have ever seen. She moved towards me. I found my voice. "You" I said
" are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life."  Strange to say
but I was not panting with lust. I was aroused for sure, I defy a dead man
not to rise at what I was seeing. Somehow there was a different quality to
it. I felt huge tenderness towards her. I wanted to cover every inch of her
in kisses. She slipped onto the narrow bed beside me. "My turn now, I think"
she whispered and pushed me up. I couldn't compete. Not with that dance,
that magic-by-moonlight. Instead I stood in front of her and stripped
quickly. Once I was naked I just stood, letting her look at me. I turned a
slow 360-degree circle. I didn't strike any poses, they would have looked
foolish, I just let her look at my body. My cock was fully erect, I was
turned on like nothing I'd ever felt before but I still had no feelings of
urgency. Time was flowing around and about us but standing still here at the
core, where we lived each second as an hour. "I never knew a man could be so
lovely." Her voice was soft, filled with wonder and tenderness. "Come to me
Paul, come to me now please!"

I moved towards the bed like a sleep-walker. The moon-shadows on her body
were amazing. I have seen great art all over the world but I defy any of the
world's renowned to capture that beauty. Michaelangelo, Rodin, Miron, they
could not have done her justice. I lay beside her and took her in my arms. I
kissed her hair and her face and eyes. I found her lips and we kissed,
deeply and softly. I felt huge passion but no lust. I looked at her
beautiful body with genuine wonder. I was a true innocent for the first and
probably the only time in my life. Her breasts were high and rounded, tipped
by nipples of silver in the moonlight. Her hips flared sweetly from her tiny
waist and her stomach was a flat plain broken only by the brief thicket at
the junction of her slender thighs. I lay propped on one elbow, drinking in
her beauty and softly stroking the silken silvered flesh. I kissed her
breasts and received a breathy sigh in response. I don't know why or how but
I was in a totally relaxed state of extreme arousal. I trailed kisses down
her chest and over her stomach towards that sweet bush. She had a little
mole just on the inside of her left hipbone and I kissed it gratefully, the
one flaw that rendered her truly perfect. Her legs had fallen open as I had
travelled down and I could now smell the sweet female scent of her. I hadn't
ever done this before but instinct guided me to kiss the swelling lips and
the soft cushion of her mound. I dipped my tongue into the shadowed valley
and was greeted by the sweet moistness of her. I trailed slow kisses and
lingering licks up and back and she rewarded me with little gasps and sighs
and her hips started moving to first match and then exceed my rhythm.
Suddenly her body tensed and she gave a sharp little cry and I felt a
fluttering around my tongue like the beating wings of a humming bird. She
relaxed back with a contented "Oh!!!!" I was in heaven. I had just given a
girl an orgasm for the first time in my life and was feeling like it was me
that invented them! I trailed kisses back  up her body and she pulled me on
top of her. "Now make me a woman" she said in a fierce whisper and I eased
into her wetness as she rose to meet me. I felt only the slightest
resistance and she winced slightly and then I was through. I felt as if I
was melting into her, that the two of us were flowing into one super-being
that transcended time and space and dwelt in some other, unknown dimension
where only we and the moonlight could ever go.

We moved to the moon's tidal beat, ebb and flow, the oldest rhythm in the
Universe. The heat was building in us now and her hips pumped back at me
with more urgency. The serenity was replaced by need, an urgent drive for
fulfilment. With a huge convulsion she lifted me bodily off the bed and I
felt that fluttering sensation again, this time around the base of my cock.
I was still just about with it enough to pull out and sent my seed spurting
across her sprawled body in wave after wave of silvery pearls. She pulled me
back on her top of her and kissed me hard. "That was the greatest thing
ever, since time began" she said, her voice like a song in  my ears. I
nodded dumbly. I had no words left. We cuddled like that for hours. We didn'
t need to do it again that night. Had we done so she might have been sore
and then pain would have usurped the incredible pleasure in both of our
memories.

Much later I had to round up all the girls and take them to their respective
homes. We had not been missed downstairs. In real time we were barely gone
an hour and a half. Jenny acted as my guide on the ferry trips so I took her
home last. I walked her to her door, arranging to meet tomorrow (really
later that day). We stared at each other. The moon had gone now and the
harsher light of streetlamps glared wanly down at us. Simultaneously we
started to speak ."I know this sounds silly.." "I know you won't believe me
but.."  We paused. Then, together again, the words tumbled out "I love you".

That was nearly thirty years ago now. I'm glad to tell you all, however,
that when the moon is full and streams into our bedroom, Jenny still dances
for me and we still go to that other dimension -  again and again and again.


Smilodon June 2002

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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