The June Prom
written by:
Conrad

The June Prom is put on by the Junior class in June. The last prom of the year, and for seniors it's the last big get together before everyone goes off into the world. If anything will get a high school teenager to save money, it's the social events. For the guys it's having to rent a tux or buy a new suit, buy flowers, rent a limo or hire a driver, pay for a dinner after the dance. The girls have to buy a gown, get their hair and nails done, and for the June Prom they have to get the food prepared for the trip to the lake the next day.

The steady couples had it easy, I thought. No anticipation of rejection by a girl you ask. No humiliation in not finding a date. I don't know whether it was worse for the guys or for the girls, but whoever said that high school was the greatest time of their lives must be one sick loser.

After the dance everyone goes out to a formal dinner, and it's usually everyone at the same place, at least to start. This year it was the Hibernian Hall, or "the Hall" for short. Sit down dinner at tables for twelve, bright lights, food that we'd get to realize later in life was standard fare for conventions and other mass feeding frenzies.

After a respectable amount of time at the Hall we'd go out, some to a nearby lakeside restaurant, some to rural taverns, always groups of a dozen or more, usually by clique. No one was expected home until morning, when we'd change clothes and head for the lake and take over most of Million Dollar Beach, nearly four hundred of us, some still reeling from drinking all night, most of us half asleep, keeping awake until the afternoon sun finally took its toll despite the cold spring fed water that had been reviving us until then.

It wasn't uncommon for several fights to occur at the lakeside places and the taverns, and there was always at least one bad car crash, but it was seldom that anyone got killed. And by the time we got to Million Dollar Beach we were too tired to fight or do much more than to begin the tanning season.

For me, the prom wasn't something I was looking forward to except to party with my friends, so I wanted it to be a good time. I'd had a bad time at the Senior Ball in December, and I had only myself to blame, so I wanted this one to make up for that fiasco. Joanne had asked me to go with her, and I accepted. She was really good looking and she was hot, which I knew from personal experience. We lived close to each other and for some reason we'd find ourselves together more often that I thought probable, but both of us were night owls, so I guess it was just serendipity. What I didn't know when she asked me was that she was Mike McEvoy's girl friend, or so he thought. The day before the prom he called me, told me to tell Joanne that I wasn't going to take her, or else. I hardly knew him but I knew he loved to fight and was good at it.

My one great failing and my one great virtue is that I'm stubborn when it comes to trying to do 'the right thing', when I think I have an idea of what that is. I may do a lot of illegal and immoral things, but when confronted with 'the right thing', I often have this compulsion to do it, often to my own detriment, sometimes at my own great peril. A confrontation with Eddie was, at best, very perilous. But I told him that she asked and I had said yes, and we were going unless she changed her mind.

Have you ever been in a situation where you knew something very bad was going to happen to you, but you didn't know when or where? That constant looking over your shoulder feeling? Then you know how I spent the next day, and most of that night as well.

But Mike never showed up, and I didn't see him for weeks, and he either forgot or he didn't think it was worth getting his knuckles skinned on me. But I intended not to make a similar mistake again. Problem was that I didn't have a steady girl and I wasn't seeing anyone that I wanted to ask. I wanted to be with someone special, I just didn't know who that someone was.

Now I told you the June Prom is in June, but I was thinking about this as early as over the winter break, which in this neck of the woods is the bleakest time of year. And the weather wasn't the only thing that was bleak. I knew from the grapevine that there were two girls who might ask me to be their date, but neither was of any interest to me. I found myself instead taking mental notes of all the girls around me, in class, at the places we went after school, everywhere.

There was Jackie, but she was 'sort of going out' with one of my best friends (read fear of commitment on Leo's part). Ditto Joan, and Nancy, and Arlene, and on and on. Frannie was a contender, and a sure thing, but I was strongly considering Carol. We liked each other without it being a big deal, and although we'd dance together a lot we never dated or even made out. She was good looking and had a nice full figure, but we didn't really click for some reason. So I figured I could safely keep my options open until at least Easter, probably into May.

Then I began to notice Dixie. Well, I'd always noticed Dixie, everyone did, you couldn't help but notice Dixie. One of the best looking girls in school, long blonde hair that tumbled to her shoulders in soft waves, heartbreakingly beautiful blue eyes, a ripening figure that made you look away before you got caught drooling. You saw her and you couldn't get up and walk for about ten minutes, if you get my drift. She was new in our school, so she was a bit of a mystery.

Dixie always seemed shy, quiet, reserved. But she played soccer and softball so she wasn't a hermit or an outcast. After a game she usually left, and when she did stay she was still quiet. The one person she hung out with was her friend Megan, who was even quieter. Meg had a boyfriend but he went to a different school so he was seldom around with us after school.

But suddenly I found that when I looked at Dixie I felt that I'd almost but not quite caught her looking at me, or I'd think I saw her head turn just ever so slightly and a blue eye would be turning my way, and I'd quickly turn away. It was fascinating and irritating and frustrating. Which is what I learned women are, in general, and often in particular. Part of their charm, I was told. As if that would help me to understand them, or anything about them. But I was an eager student, even then. Especially then.

Here's what I came up with as to my chances with Dixie: wishful thinking, and, fat chance. Beautiful, smart, probably rich. Out of my league, and probably a snob as well.

Then one day as I was walking into Milo's, the place where we all hung out after school and on weekends, a restaurant downstairs with upholstered booths, a dance hall upstairs, which was packed every Friday night of the school year. In my usual cool demeanor I wasn't really watching all that carefully where I was going and, BAM!, I collided with someone. And I mean a head on smash, not a little fender bender. I went flying, my books sailing. When I came to my senses I looked up, not quite able to get my breath back, that stunned look on my face that screamed I CAN'T BREATHE!!!

And Dixie was kneeling beside me, a pained look in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Conrad", and I let out a gasp, took a huge breath.

"What happened? I feel like I got hit by a truck."

She frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you, and, well, we ran into each other."

My body was down but my brain was racing. What to say? I was speechless and clueless, typical for a suave teenager, no? I gathered my books, both of them, and we stood up.

"Dixie, I'm sorry, it's my fault, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and ..., oh, are you okay?" She smiled, and I nearly lost it. God, I'd never been this close to her, had never had a conversation with her, and now I was lost. She was gorgeous! And she smelled so good! And she certainly did fill out her angora sweater to perfection.

"Yes, thanks, I'm fine. I'm used to being hit, I play soccer and I'm always getting knocked about. And I have the bruises to prove it."

Knocked about, I liked the sound of that, very British I thought. Was she really British? I knew she was from somewhere else, but British? From England? No, not with that name, and she didn't have that accent, although she didn't sound quite like everyone else around here, but it wasn't British. Then I realized that although I was having this inane conversation with myself, I was staring, and thankful it was into her eyes and not elsewhere, where there was plenty to stare at.

"Oh, sorry, I was, um, would you like something to drink, I was just going to ..."

"No, Conrad, thanks, I'd love that, but I have to meet someone."

Arggh! The dreaded 'someone'. Not, I'm going to meet my grandmother, or a girlfriend, or any other person who wouldn't count as competition, but 'someone'! Damn it all to hell! But I was determined to keep my composure. What composure? I was standing there, with a goofy grin all over my face, and she'd just turned me down to have a coke together.

"But if you're here tomorrow afternoon, maybe then?"

"Uh, sure, I mean, yes, that'd be great. Okay, um, see you then." Brilliant repartee, no?

"Smooth, Con." Oh, perfect! Advice from the one person I didn't need it from.

"Stuff it, John." Mr. Smooth himself. Always drooling around the girls, trying to be something he probably saw in the movies, but without the looks or charm or money. Anything he had to say now would be ridiculous, even I knew that. I brushed past him, knowing though that this wouldn't be the end of it. Well, that's life in high school.

And I was right. Within the hour I was getting ribbed for everything from 'falling for Dixie' to 'she really swept you off your feet'. So I laughed along, and before long I was laughing with them at what a dork I'd been, and it made me feel better. We'd all been there, one time or another, and this time it was my turn in the barrel.

I wondered if she'd show up tomorrow, and the more I thought about it the more I figured it was, for her, the polite thing to say, rather than to just walk off. I half let it go, but the half that held on envisioned episodes of clever conversation, deft dancing and erotic evenings. By the time I'd fallen asleep I'd had more than my usual allotment of wishful pleasuring. Then in the middle of the night I heard her whisper to me, asking me if I'd do it again, for her, and, half asleep, I did.

She was on my mind throughout the day, whenever I had some free time to let my mind wander, which wasn't difficult for me during the school day, with a light load in my last semester of my Senior year. At one point I caught myself doodling, but the doodles turned into some figure drawing, and I didn't want to get caught doing that, so I closed my notebook and tried to pay attention to some World Literature. Thank god it wasn't Romeo and Juliet.

Acting nonchalant, I walked into Milo's, careful not to crash into anyone this time. I saw Dixie talking animatedly with her friend Meg, her blonde hair swirling around her beautiful face. Walking up to the booth I stopped, expecting her to look up, hoping she'd been waiting for me.

"Dixie, hi, I'm glad you're here. I still want to buy you a coke to make up for yesterday."

She looked up, her blue eyes shining, a slight smile on her wide mouth.

"Oh, Conrad, hi. Have a seat, unless you're already with someone."

I slid in beside Meg, so I could face Dixie. "Meg, hi." Then I turned again to Dixie.

"Dixie, I hope I'm not interrupting anything. But ..."

"No, you're just in time. We were talking about homework." I somehow found that hard to believe, but then I didn't know either of them that well to make that kind of assumption, so I let it slide. "I've noticed that you always have something to say in the history classes", and I felt a rush of blood to my face, not being used to or liking this kind of attention, "and in Lit as well. So maybe you can help us with this."

"Dixie, I just like those classes, but if you think I can help you out I've give it a try. What's the problem, or question would be more appropriate, I guess."

"See, that's what I mean, you differentiate and try to use the correct words. I've noticed that in Lit. Well, what do you think about what Mr. Williams said ...", and she went on about the discussion in class that afternoon.

"Dixie, if you use what I tell you, you'll probably get in as much trouble with Williams as I do. See, if you find some other books on what he's talking about you're going to get another view of the situation, cuz it's history, and history is usually written from several perspectives, by the winners and the educated classes, so ...", and then I saw it, that look of what I thought was 'what is this guy talking about?" "Oh, sorry, but that's how I see it, and when you get to college that's just what they're going to be telling you. But Williams has a narrow focus, so you only get what he wants you to get. But he's teaching to the exam, not to your mind. So take your choice."

"I think I'll take both."

That stunned me for a moment. Then I ran it through, aloud: "Take what you need to pass the exam but keep looking. I guess so, I think I've been more black and white about it."

"I think you always want to be right."

Arghh! I hate that, and I've heard it from so many people. "No, I always want to know if I'm right, and then when I think I am, I want to have people see it my way."

"Well, good luck. Sounds like you want to be a teacher." And from that moment she had me. We talked for an hour, with Meg sitting there, watching us, listening, smiling sometimes at something one of us had said, until she discretely motioned to the wall clock.

"Oh, I guess we'll have to continue this another time. If you want to."

That was the beginning of what I was to learn was my real introduction to women. Not the physical introduction, which Irish and Frannie and Joanne had provided, but women as rational beings, interesting people. We spent hours that week in conversation about history, literature, religion, travel, even sports. Usually it was at Milo's, but we'd sometimes walk down to the riverside park. Sometimes Meg was with us, but usually it was just the two of us.

Then came the weekend, and as Saturday morning crept into afternoon I found myself wondering what Dixie thought about this, or had she heard about that. Hanging out with my friends that evening, talking about what to do, I realized that what I wanted to be doing was talking with Dixie. Not deciding which movie to crash, or where to go drinking. I realized that I missed her.

Sunday was no better, and I began to think about calling her, and that brought me to another realization. I didn't know her family, they didn't know me. But what I did know had me returning to my initial thoughts of wishful thinking and fat chance.

She'd mentioned that her family belonged to the country club, that she'd sent the past summer in France and Italy, that she'd be leaving for college in the fall. If I was going to go to the country club it would be to caddy at the golf course, and if I ever got to France or Italy it would be with the Army, which I'd been thinking about joining. So calling her, especially on the weekend, was not something I felt comfortable doing.

Then Monday, coming out of last period, we met in the hall, both heading for our homerooms. "See you at Milo's later?", I asked, feeling so amazingly overjoyed to see her.

"Wait for me by the fountain and we can take the bus together."

For one brief moment I felt as breathless as when I'd hit the floor the week before. "Um, sure, see you in a few." Oh, god, this is amazing!

The fountain was at the entrance to the school, and from there it was a five minute walk to the bus stop, or a five minute walk to Dan's, a coffee shop that some kids would go to in the morning before class for coffee and donuts, and some of us would stay until it was time for second or third period, depending upon who was there. After school it was more a place for kids who lived in the neighborhood.

Dixie met me a few minutes later, alone, which I was glad to see, and I thought I'd take advantage of it. "Hey, we could stop at Dan's for awhile, then get the bus later, it wouldn't be so crowded."

"Good idea. I hate taking the bus when it's so crowded, and it's too hot, too."

Dan's was nearly full, but there was one booth near the back so we headed that way. Then I saw that in the booth behind it were two girls I knew from another school, Haley and Jean, and I immediately regretted coming here with Dixie. But it was too late, so we slid in across from each other. Dixie was sitting facing the door and I was facing the booth with the girls, who were talking about their dates the previous weekend. They'd talk and then whisper and then laugh, following the same pattern for several minutes. It quickly became apparent that they were discussing having sex in a car, with Haley and her date in the backseat, Jean in front with hers.

"Well, next time, either I get the back or we both get the back. No more trying to contort myself around the shift."

Dixie raised her eyebrows, looking at me with a slight smile, which I thought at first was embarrassment, but then she mouthed the words "do you hear that?" I nodded, there was no way I couldn't hear them. She laughed, quietly, just as the waitress came for our order. It was my friend John's mother, which was one more reason I should have opted to go to Milo's.

"Conrad, introduce me to your girlfriend. Is Johnnie coming? How's school? Are you going to the prom?", and she kept rattling questions until one of the other booths called to her. How red was I?, I wondered. But her intrusion did stop the girls' chatter, or at least tone it down.

"Conrad, am I your girlfriend?", and Dixie looked at me, held my gaze. I searched for some idea of what she was thinking, expecting, but her face was noncommittal.

"Well, um, I, ah, ...", twisting in the wind.

"Would you like me to be your girlfriend? Have you thought about that? Would you like to be my boyfriend?" Okay, this was serious. I had to answer her, and it had better be good.

"Dixie, I've thought about it, from every angle, but I never thought it would come to anything. Now I've been wondering why you're spending so much time with me, well, how come we're spending so much time together. So, yeah, I've thought about it. Okay, I'll say it, I'd love to be with you every day. There's no other girl I want to be with. So, for a start, would you go to the Junior Prom with me?" Oh, god, I couldn't believe I just asked Dixie to the prom!

"For a start?"

"Dixie, do you want me to get down on my knee and propose? Okay, will you be my girlfriend?", and I was on one knee beside the table.

She laughed, her blue eyes sparkling, clearly enjoying this. "Conrad, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be mean. But when she said that, about us, it came to me that, we really have been spending all our time together, as in, steadily seeing each other?"

"Go ahead, hit me in the head with that sixteen ton brick, we're going steady?" Wait, what ...?

"Conrad, you're so cute when you get all flustered like this, do you know that? This is a side of you that no one ever sees, right? Okay, it can be our secret, the fluster, I mean, but you do realize that all our friends are talking about us, and have been all week. Meg has been pestering me about it since our head on collision. I'm sure you've been getting the same thing", and she waited for a response. She'd given this a good deal of thought, I saw, so I had to be honest with her.

"Well, yeah, but that's just normal stuff, everyone wants to talk about everybody, and ..."

"You know, I've heard a lot about you, about you and your girlfriends, or girl friends rather. I thought you were going to be a real jerk in that department, but I have to say, you're really a gentleman. You haven't once even tried to kiss me. I've been wondering if you really didn't want to do anything with me, ... oh, I meant, you didn't want to ..."

"Dixie, I want to do things with you, but I didn't think it was in the cards, so I've been letting it happen, and enjoying it." Then I saw a look of relief cross her face, and in my mind I heard her last sentence again, "wondering if you really didn't want to do anything with me" and it hit me.

"OH, uh, Dixie, I've been dying to kiss you, every day, but I thought ..."

"Come sit by me." I moved to her side, and I could feel her, although we weren't touching. But I could feel her against me, feel the heat of her body, the pressure of her nearness, just as I could smell her, some slightly floral scent, and I was filled with her presence, her her-ness. This was something I hadn't felt before with any girl, not Frannie, not Irish, nobody. Suddenly it was terrifying, as though she had some control over me.

"I wouldn't mind if you kissed me." Wordlessly I bent to her, felt her presence envelop me, our eyes locked as our faces came closer, closer, and our lips met, my eyes closing, the world was shut out, only her soft smooth warm lips against mine. It was gentle, and it lasted only a few seconds, but I felt giddy, lightheaded, and I thought I'd be at a loss for words, but when I opened my eyes and saw her smiling, I relaxed.

"Dixie, I didn't want you to think that I was just hanging out with you to, you know, take advantage of you. I like you, I like you a lot, and I've been thinking about kissing you since the first time I ever saw you."

"Conrad, you can't take advantage of me, I'll make up my own mind about what I want to do. But I'm not like those girls behind us", lowering her voice.

"You're not like any girl I've ever known, and that's a big part of why I like you."

We sipped cokes, and suddenly everything was different, different with the world, different between the two of us. It was like the first day all over again, and I knew it.

Of course, I had thoughts of how innocent Dixie was, and I told myself that I would never, could never, do anything to mar her innocence. And of course, at the same time I wanted to ravish her. It was a typical passive aggressive hormonal reaction to adolescent feelings. I wanted her to be my angel and I wanted her to be my sex slave.

We would kiss as often as we got a chance, making opportunities with every nook and cranny we came upon, and we were an instant item, the newest news. It was very flattering, to be heard mentioned as "Dixie's boyfriend", "Dixie's steady"..

We loved to kiss, and after a dozen explorations on our parts we found that we enjoyed the feeling and taste and excitement of each other's tongue. Our kisses became longer, much longer, and deeper, as in deeper down her throat, and deeper in feeling emotionally as well. And wetter, slipperier and sloppier, our faces wet with each other's saliva.

Dixie was so beautiful, so sensual, and so innocent, I thought. But I didn't really know anything about her. Was she a virgin, as I thought? How much did she know,? How much would she allow? I decided to take it slowly, let her show me how much she was comfortable with. This was so good I didn't to screw it up, didn't want it to end. I was smitten!

From our first kiss in Dan's it was three weeks to the prom, and after the first week we were crushing our bodies against each other every chance we got, rubbing all over each other while I was trying to hid my erection. Then it became an agonizing dance of kissing with our lips while maintaining minimum bodily contact. And as for actual dancing, after a few minutes of feeling her warmth against me through her angora sweaters, her hands on the back of my neck, her warm breath on my ear, I thought I'd invented a new dance, Hide the Stiffie.

Then, the weekend before the prom, we were by the lake where her parents had a summer place. We were with a dozen kids from school, and she had until midnight to get home. It was just turning dark, and we were sitting beneath the trees by the lake, listening to the peepers and bull frogs, watching for shooting stars, and whoever saw one could claim a kiss. Funny, but when she saw one I didn't see it, and it was the same if I saw one. We saw one every few minutes, and then we gave up the charade and lay there, kissing, our hands trying not to stray, me trying to keep my erection from jabbing her.

Of course, Dixie was the one to finally bring our situation out in the open. It was the first of what was to be a great number of heartfelt discussions about our lives, and everything that touched us.

"Conrad, you're really my first boyfriend. Oh, I've had boyfriends, but they were really friends who were boys, and yes, we'd kiss sometimes, but not like we kiss, nothing like that. And I know you've had girlfriends who were more than girl friends. You never talk about them, which is surprising, but really good to know. I've heard about you and that freshman, for one. I was jealous, but Meg says she has a boyfriend now, so I guess I don't care all that much anymore. But you have to know, I don't have a lot of experience. A little, but nothing like you. Nothing like Meg or any of my friends, and I'm beginning to feel like a freak. I'll be in college soon and I have to know about these things. I'm not using you like a lab rat, but I like you a lot so ... "

"Dixie, I figured as much, which is why I've been so careful around you."

"Well, you don't have to be 'too' careful. I mean, we have to be careful, but I want to find out about, well, you know, and it's gotten to the point where I want to find out now, or at least a little bit more. Do you know what I mean?"

"I feel the same way, about you finding out things. And I don't feel like you're taking advantage of me. I love being here with you like this. Tell me when to stop, or to slow down and I promise I will." Before she could answer I kissed her again, our tongues hot, but this time as our hands moved on each other I slid mine to her waist, and then up along her rib cage, brushing the bottom curves of her breasts. Her breathing was faster, and her hands on my back were pulling me tighter to her, and then she pulled away, leaving a space between our bodies.

"Conrad, we have to talk about this. I don't want to tease you, or have you tease me, but I want to know how you feel about me, about us. I want to be more than just an easy fuck for you", and I nearly gasped at her statement and the language she framed it in, "if we get that far. I want us to go steady, and I want to know now if that's what you want."

"Dixie, I want that more than anything. I know you know that, but I'll say it if you need to hear it. You're my girl, my only girl. I don't want anyone else but you. And I'm your boyfriend and you're stuck with me."

"Conrad", and she sighed as her eyes lit up in happiness, "I really needed to hear you say that, and now I have something to say to you. Conrad, I love you and I'll do anything for you. I feel safe with you and I trust you, so please don't hurt me, please." I kissed her, my heart thumping in my chest like a trip hammer, my mind screaming with exaltation.

"Dixie, that's how I feel about you, I love you, and I've never told a girl that before. But I feel it with you, and I trust you, too, and I know you won't hurt me either." We held each other for several minutes and then we kissed again. But now it was kissing to communicate our feelings.

"It's okay, you can touch me there", and her lush lips came to mine again. My hands cupped her full breasts, and I was electrified as I felt the hard nipples in my palms through her bra and her shirt. I squeezed the firm mounds and for the first time I heard what was to be the most erotic sound in the world for me. She moaned!. I wanted to say something, but I realized that there was nothing to say. Dixie wanted experience, not a lecture.

She lay her head on my shoulder, breathing heavily, and I caressed and massaged those beautiful breasts. "Oh, Conrad, that feels so good, oh, how can anything that feels this good be bad!"

That was all the encouragement I needed. I forgot about her being shy and innocent, and a virgin. I knew that she was ready to continue our exploration. My fingers found her nipples and I caressed them with my fingertips, and when she moaned again I squeezed them, making her gasp. She pulled away, and for a moment I thought I'd gone too far, but she pulled her shirt out of her shorts and shyly smiled at me again. "Okay, this'll be way better."

As we kissed I slipped my hands beneath her shirt, up to her breasts, a layer closer to that smooth pale flesh that I wanted so much to touch and feel and kiss and suck and taste. It was only a few minutes more and then I began unhooking her bra, and I nearly yelled in satisfaction when I got it undone on the first attempt. She shrugged her shoulders as my hands went around her waist and then up to touch her soft silky smooth skin, the curves of her breasts filling my hands, and she moaned again as her nipples brushed across my fingers. I pulled gently on them, twisting them between my fingertips, squeezed them, kissing her neck as I did. I was sooo hard!

This torture went on for what seemed like hours, and as I played with her nipples her hands were under my tee shirt, her fingernails scraping across my back, gripping my waist.

"Conrad, I really like that, I like it a lot. This is as far as I've ever let anyone get. Kiss them, please, kiss them, you're teasing me. I want to feel your lips on them, please!"

"Oh, Dixie, ...", and I unbuttoned her shirt, pushed it off her shoulders, and she pulled the shirt and her bra off. "Dixie, you're so beautiful, so beautiful! I want to do everything with you."

"Conrad, you make me feel so good, and you make it so I like it, too." I kissed her mouth, my teeth biting her full lower lip, and as I kissed her neck she dropped her head back, allowing me full access to her neck and shoulders and breasts. Her hands held my head as I kissed the tops of her lovely breasts, and she gripped harder as my tongue traced around the nipple, her beautiful fat hard nipple. She pushed forward, straining to feel me take her in my mouth, and I did, sucking in until her nipple was fully in my mouth and I was sucking her like a babe in arms. Such sweet nipples.

Dixie was squirming against me, her hands had my head in a death grip and she was moaning loudly. I moved to the other breast, holding both in my hands, and sucked on that nipple as she groaned. Her voice was coming out in little mews, "oh, oh, oh", and I couldn't stop. I was so hard I thought I might cum in my pants. And the way she was squirming and moaning I knew she was feeling the same way. She was moaning constantly now, her eyes closed.

My hand left her breast, moved to her back, and I tried to get my hand into her shorts, but they were too tight. I gave up and massaged her ass through her shorts, pulling her body closer to me. My hand returned to her breast and as I continued to suck her nipple I moved her legs apart. But when I moved my hand between her thighs she pulled away quickly, her legs closing, trapping my hand there, but not letting it move. I froze, fearful I had gone too far too fast.

"Conrad, no, no, take your hand away, please. I can't, I'm ... please!"

I moved back, looking at this beautiful girl in the moonlight, her hair around her shoulders, her eyes glittering, panting, a confused look on her face. She didn't try to hid her nakedness, but she looked as though she was about to cry.

"Dixie, it's okay, it's okay, I told you I'd stop. We can stop now, it's okay."

"You must think I'm stupid, a stupid little baby. I ..."

"No, don't think that, don't ever think that. Don't ever let yourself do anything you're not comfortable doing, or you just don't want to do. This is all new to you, but it'll be okay, you'll see. I know you like it, but we have to take it a little at a time, let you get used to it."

"But if I let you, um, touch me there, will you think I'm terrible? The only boy I let touch my boobs called me a whore. So I've been afraid to do anything since, and that was years ago."

"Dixie, I think you're beautiful and smart and funny. Any girl who says she doesn't like to do this is lying, believe me. Ask Meg. All your friends do this, and some of them, a lot more."

She fell against me, a sob choked back. "Oh, Conrad, I know, but it's, it's so confusing. You make me feel so good, and I don't want you to stop, but I don't know how I'll feel if you don't stop, and, ... oh, this is stupid. Why is it like this?"

We held each other, talking in whispers, and then we were laughing, and then we were kissing again, and this time it was like that period after having sex, the kisses softer, more mellow.

"Dixie, it's almost midnight, time to get yourself together. I don't want you to get in trouble and I sure don't want to get on the wrong side of your parents."

"Conrad, tomorrow night I'll feel better, I know I will. Thanks for being so ... "

"Hush, you're my girlfriend and I have to do everything I can to make you feel good, and part of that is to make you feel safe, and feel good about me."

"Yes, and I want to make you feel good, too."

The next day we lay in the sun, we swam out to the raft, we walked to the hot dog stand, playing the juke box. Dixie went home for dinner, and later we met at the Lake House, a bar and restaurant near the beach. We played darts for beers and then as the evening closed in she and I took a walk, stopping to kiss every few feet, out to the trees again. It was a good place, sheltered from view and close enough to the lake that we could go swimming if we wanted.

The ground was dry, the grass was high enough to provide some cushioning, and the stars were beginning to show in the darkening sky. Dixie was wearing a tee shirt and shorts, and as soon as we sat down she reached beneath her shirt, and after a bit of contortion she pulled her bra out, lay it beside us. "I think I'll like it better this way." So shy, so sweet. Oh, I was so hard now!

Her beasts felt so wonderful, even through her tee shirt, and when she sat back and pulled it over her head I was ready to explode, literally. She pushed me onto my back, straddled me, her gorgeous breasts right there in front of me! She lay on me and kissed me. "Take your shirt off, I want to feel you against me." Her warm skin and hard nipples against my chest was nearly more than I could take, and now it was I who was moaning. She was more aggressive now, using her tongue on my neck, around my ear, her hands all over my chest, her fingers lingering on my nipples. And each time I felt her nipples brush against my bare skin I thought I'd cum.

My hands were on her ass and legs, the skin so smooth, her hair so fragrant as I nuzzled her neck. Again I tried to get my hand into her shorts but I could only get my fingers past the waist band. To my surprise she sat up, unbuttoned the snap, ran the zipper down. "But I won't take them off." She lay on me again, and as her lips and tongue licked and kissed I slipped both hands into her shorts, squeezing and caressing her fantastic ass. "That's nice, but it's not like when you touch my boobs. That really feels incredible."

"I love touching you everywhere", and I ran my hands up and down her spine, from the nape of her neck down as far as I could reach in her shorts, "and I know you like how it makes you feel."

We lay side by side, her nipple at my lips, and she began her own explorations. For the first time she began feeling down my leg, searching with her fingers. I was about to say something about her stopping me the night before, but I realized that this was her way of saying that it would be okay for me to try again. I unsnapped my jeans and as I unzipped them she looked at me, her eyes wide. "I won't take them off, I promise. And we stop when you say stop." She leaned into me, her mouth on mine, and she slipped her hand into my jeans as if she was picking my pocket.

I nearly came when she touched me, and the throbbing startled her. But I placed my hand on hers, held it there. "Dixie, that feels so good, you can't imagine." She was about to say something but I stopped her with a kiss, then maneuvered my fingers into her shorts, felt the curly hair on her mound, heard her gasp, her hand squeezing me now just beneath the swollen head, my fingers moving down, over the furry slit, which was warm and damp. My fingers sank through the wet hair, into a warm slippery silky space and she let out a long moan.

"Oh, Conrad, Conrad, oh, oh,", and she bit my shoulder, her teeth hanging on as my finger probed further into her sweet wetness. I moved back, watching her face, eyes closed, nostrils flared, lips slightly open, soft moans coming from deep within her, her body tightening, her hand on me squeezing tighter. "Oh, god, that's so, so, ah, yes, oh!"

I reached down, moved her hand aside long enough to pull myself out of my jeans, then moved her hand back. When she gripped it I placed my hand on hers again. "I'd like it if you moved your hand, like this", and I showed her how to stroke me.

"Meg told me she did this with her boyfriend. She said you'd like it. But, she told me something would happen. The baby stuff from biology. I know all that, I'm not stupid, just inexperienced. "

"Yes, if you don't stop, that certainly will happen."

"I want to make you do it, I want to make you feel good, as good as you make me feel." She was gripping me too tightly, but that was better than doing it just right, which would have got me off in a flash. But after a few minutes, "Dixie, not too tight, just hold it like you'd hold my hand, yes, now move it like you were doing. Ahh, that's too wonderful. Stop when I say, okay? And I mean, as soon as I say stop, stop!"

"But Conrad, I want to make it happen for you, please let me do it. I want to see it."

"I will, but I want to make this last", and I moved my hand to get another finger inside her.

"Ahh, Conrad, I feel like I'm burning up inside, I've never felt like this, it feels better than ...", and she began moving her hips, moving against my hand, moving to take my fingers deeper into her wetness. And as she ground against my hand I had her stop, feeling my orgasm building.

"Dixie, stop for a second, you'll feel a little wetness, but I think it'll be just a little this time. Yeah", and I sighed, relieved that I was still able to continue. Now her hand was a little more slippery and it felt even better as she glided up and down.

Then a few minutes later I suddenly got very close to the point of no return, and I warned her. "Dixie, if you don't stop I'm going to do it, I'm going to cum, I'm so close!"

She moved back so she could watch, her hand moving skillfully now. "Conrad, it's so hard now, harder than before. It's moving in my hand. Oh, I can feel you!", and I exploded, cum flying out into the warm night air, up onto my chest and belly, onto the back of her hand.

Her hand was slippery now with my sticky semen. She continued stroking, squeezing her fingers as she came up over the thick ridge, collecting the semen between her thumb and finger. "Oh, I can smell it, it smells, um, like the ocean. And it's so slippery and warm." For a moment I thought she was going to lick her fingers, but she continued stroking me until I sat up, pulling her to me, kissing her, wanting to lay her down and strip her and fuck her until I came again.

Her hand continued fondling my semi-erection. She was enthralled. "Conrad, it's getting softer, but it's still as big as it was when it was hard", and she described everything that was happening and had happened. I was in heaven, still electrified, getting aftershocks, which I had to describe to her, and as she continued to kiss me and stroke me, her lips going to my neck, I had the idea that she was going to work her way down, and that thought got me hard again immediately.

"Conrad, you're hard again!" As if I didn't know!

"Dixie, as long as you touch me like that, and kiss me, and let me feel you, yes, I'll be hard. Well, for awhile anyway."

"Can we do it again?" I laughed, and thought, I think I love this girl. And then that thought repeated in my mind and I thought, I do love this girl.

"We can do whatever you want to do. What do you want to do?"

"Meg told me what her boyfriend likes, but I don't know if I can ever do that. I mean, I know it's natural and everything, but, well, doesn't it smell funny to you? So I think it would taste funny, too. Meg says it does, but that she's used to it and it's not so bad, and once she gets going she actually likes it. And I think part of it is in knowing how much your boyfriend likes it, how good it makes him feel." Oh, god, I was right, she was thinking of going farther. Now she was looking for reassurance. I pulled my hand out of her shorts, held a finger beneath her nose.

"Smell that. Does that smell funny? I think it smells like you, or a part of you. I want to taste you, there, I want to lick you until you can't stand it any more." I licked my finger, sucking the first digit, licking my lips. "But I don't want to gross you out. And if you don't want to do it, and if you don't want me to do it, that's okay too." But in my heart of hearts I wanted it so badly, and I knew she wanted to find out for herself. We couldn't stop now, I was certain of it.

As we talked she never stopped stroking me, or fondling my balls. I knew it was only a matter of time until she had me in her mouth. "Feel the skin, the soft skin on the top. It's just like the skin on your nipples, or on your lips, and it's sensitive, just like your nipples. And when I touch your nipples you feel it throughout your body, and when you touch me there I feel it everywhere too."

She continued to stroke me, and run her fingers over the head, and down the shaft, and feel my balls. 'Hands on' biology.

"Let's just do it again, okay? My hand on you?"

I lay back on my side, pulled her to me. "Okay, here's an idea. One of us at a time can take their clothes off completely. Either one of us but not both. That way, we can't do, um, everything. How 'bout that. Then you can get to all of me, and same goes for me, but not at the same time. It'll be easier and lots more fun."

"Um, okay, you first." That was a quick decision, she was ready for more but at her own pace. I pulled my jeans off, lay down on the soft dry grass, on my back now, Dixie sitting beside me, watching my eyes as she fondled and stroked and caressed me, her beautiful pink tipped breasts swaying as she moved, her plump nipples scraping streaks of fire across my chest and belly as they dragged on my flesh while she kissed me.

She lay beside me, one leg on mine, the bareness of her thigh so sensual. Propped up on one hand she whispered in my ear. "Conrad, you're beautiful, your body is beautiful. I've never seen a boy totally naked before, and I have to tell you, I find it very exciting!" And she laughed, but I knew that while part of it was humor, part was nerves. We were one pair of shorts away from being totally naked and it was topmost in both our minds.

Her fingers moved on me, but now she was using her fingertips, her fingernails, and when she heard me gasp as she scratched my balls she laughed softly, and then spent an incredibly long time playing there. "I love the way it leaps around like that. Are you doing that on purpose? Can you control that, like a dog wagging its tail?" She was as curious about my body as she was about the sex. Loved every minute of it, loved it loved it loved it.

"Stop for a minute", and I made myself throb in her hand. She laughed, clearly amused. "Count slowly now", and as she counted I would make myself throb to her count and she laughed again.

"Oh, god, I just thought of how that would feel in my mouth!"

Her face changed, from laughing eyes and smiling mouth to a look of deep reflection. Oh, please, god, please, if I'm ever going to pray for something, let it be this, please, please, please! Just the thought of those beautiful lush lips taking me in brought me to the brink of orgasm. I was so hard now that it was a steady stiffness, past the point of throbbing.

"Dixie, I can't take this, please. If you don't want to do that, if you don't want to try it in your mouth, then please, just do it with your hand. Please, I can't wait any longer."

"Do you think ... , um, Conrad, ... ", and she looked at me, her eyes huge in the night. "If you tell me you hate me after I do this, I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you!" Her eyes blazed, her face a mask of determination and I knew that she meant every word.

"Dixie, nothing would be further from the truth. I want that so badly, and if we do it, I'll want it again and again, and I think you're going to feel the same way."

She watched the head appear and disappear as she slid her hand up and down on my aching erection. "Conrad, I do want to, but ... "

"Dixie, you remember when you asked me to kiss your nipples, and how good it felt for you, and for me? Well, now I want more than anything for you to kiss me, there, please. Just kiss it like you'd kiss me on the lips. Just try it, you'll see it's not horrible. I bet Meg loves to do it."

She flashed a look at me, "How do you know ...", then realized that she'd told me about Meg and her boyfriend. "Yes, she does, I told you she does."

As I watched her blonde head bending to me, her nipple hard in my hand, I moved my other hand to her face, stroking her cheek. I felt every little movement, every stirring of the air, took in every speck of fragrance around us. Her lush lips were so incredibly soft as she touched them to the swollen head, and I moaned, afraid I'm cum right then. Her fingers continued to slowly stoke me, and her lips dabbed soft kisses all over the head and around the thick ridge, then down the shaft, and onto my balls. I heard her inhale deeply and I knew she was trying to discover everything she could about what she was doing.

"Ahh, Dixie, that's so good, you can't believe how good you're making me feel now! Oh, yes, god, you're so beautiful, so beautiful!" I thought I was going to pass out from excitement. Her full soft lips felt even better than I had anticipated, and I knew that she was going to go all the way with this, and I wondered if I'd be able to take it. The last thing I wanted to happen was to explode before she took me into her mouth. But perhaps she was going as far now as she would go, at least for tonight. I told myself that I could wait one more night if I had to, but I knew that if she didn't go down on me now I'd really need to have her jack me off at least once tonight.

My fingers moved down again to her shorts, but she pulled my hand away, moved it to her breast, and her tongue licked out, just beneath the head, causing a throb that made my cock hit against her nose. She gasped, then laughed, and her tongue began writing the story of her loss of innocence on the shaft and the head, her fingers fondling my balls.

Dixie looked up at me, a devilish look in her half closed eyes. "Umm, Conrad, you like that a lot, don't you!" Before I could answer she licked around and then up, kissing the tip, and then, her eyes closed, she opened her mouth enough for me to begin to slide past her hungry lips. I lay completely still, fighting the urge to fill her mouth with my semen. She slid her lips down, so softly, over the ridge, her tongue snaking along, the tip stretching out, until she gagged. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away, but stayed there for a moment, and then began moving her mouth on me, her tongue sliding on me, her fingers slippery on her saliva now, her breathing raspy as she tried to breath through her nose.

I was so close, and I was still fighting for control, and Dixie could feel the tension, in her mouth and her hand and against her body where we touched. She sat up, licking her lips. "I can handle this", and she smiled, "but tell me when you're going to do it, I want to watch you do it again." She bent again, and this time she took me right into her mouth, with a long moan as she sucked me in, and the warmth and pressure and the feeling of her hands on my shaft and my balls was nearly too much. But I didn't want her to stop even for a second. But I was too close, too close.

"Dixie, stop, now, stop, stop! Just for a second, please!"

She stopped, but she didn't move, and that was almost worse, seeing her looking up at me, her fist wrapped around me, her lips wrapped around me.

"Keep your hand like that, but move your mouth away. Wait, wait, okay, move." When she released her hand a small amount of semen, precum, flowed out of the head, onto her fingers.

"There it is, and if you do more, there'll be more, just like you did it with your hand. Taste it."

She looked at her hand, her fingers sliding over the nearly clear fluid as she tested the texture. I'd expected her to lick her finger, but she bent and licked with the flat of her tongue.

"Umm, that's not so bad. In fact, it's not bad at all. I like it", and she took me into her mouth again, stroking and sucking a little faster now, a little harder, clearly enjoying the feel and the taste and the realization of how much pleasure she was giving me. Sounds of passion came from her throat as she took me in as deeply as she could, her fingers on my shaft and balls. When I'd get close I'd have her stop, bring her up to kiss her, and she'd begin again, until the last time I told her to stop but she looked to me, her eyes so blue and beautiful, lifted her head.

"Conrad, no, I want you to do it, now, in my mouth, please, I want it, I want to feel it, taste you."

I lay back and this time when she took me into her warm mouth I relaxed, let myself enjoy her completely, and she sensed the difference somehow, and her licking became even more sensual, more pleasurable for me and for her, and this time it lasted much longer.

Her tongue was all over my cock, licking the head, swirling around the ridge, snaking down the shaft. Her full soft lips kissed and teased me as she moaned deep in her throat. Her teeth nipped at the soft skin from the head of my hard cock to my aching balls, and she would suck my balls into her mouth, her moans electrifying me, making my body shudder.

I was close, so close, and from the tension in my body, from my hands in her hair and on her face, and from the throbbing of my cock in her mouth, in her throat, she knew it.

"Dixie, I'm ... ahggg ... oh, god, ohhhh!", and every muscle in my body tightened like a pulled bowstring, my hands forming fists, my toes curling. My breath was ragged and fast. "Dixie, now, now, I'm cumming now, now, don't stop, please, don't stop ... don't ..."

When I came she was moaning, the spurts filling her mouth. I could feel and hear her choking, swallowing, then coughing, but she continued until I pulled her to me, kissed her, my sticky cum still covering her tongue and lips. We lay panting, laughing softly, our eyes drinking each other in. "Now you're part of me, inside me."

"Dixie, that was the most incredible thing I've ever felt with anyone."

She kissed me again, her mouth still sticky, her tongue a bit salty. I cupped her wet pussy in my hand.

"Now it's your turn. Take your shorts off."