Chapter 1: New School Year - Labor Day

The last day of Summer Vacation was a blast. All my friends and I got our parents together to hash out what would become a class event to start each of our remaining school years off. We'd all kept in touch over the Summer and it was decided that it would be great if we could get our parents to rent the use of the Mooreland Events Complex Association (MECA) for a day. We reasoned that it would be a better set up than everyone gathering at someone's house and the mess that would likely be left behind. Fred, a good friend of mine, had a brother who worked there. He would be the one to get the info on what they would charge for the event. If it went well we might even see about talking our parents into doing it for the end of school parties, too.

My class has about 200 students. MECA has a maximum limit of 300 in its largest room, which is where we'd have set up for dancing, and food. Then there was the pool, with a limit of 200, and various other rooms, including their sauna. To cover insurance, pay for the lifeguards, food and drinks, and the exclusive use of the complex for Labor Day from 9am to 10pm we were quoted a total cost of $10,000. This also included a deposit for possible damages. It sounds like a lot, until you realize that $10,000 split evenly between 200 students comes to $50 per student. That's a pretty good deal for eleven hours of use of a sports complex.

Once we had the essential information, we got together with our parents and told them what we wanted to do and asked them to meet with all the other parents before shutting us down. To do this, we got Mr. Franklin, the manager of MECA, to rent us the main room for a couple hours two weeks before school started so that our parents and all of us could come together and discuss our proposal. I think three factors closed the sale: the venue, the cost per student, and the presentation we put together. We've got some very talented people in my class.

The presentation consisted of a well done multimedia show that went through the complex extolling its virtues as a place for young men and women to gather and socialize, have fun, and do it all in a safe and controlled environment. It pointed out safety features around the center itself and the staff and the training they had for dealing with injuries and incidents that might occur. It also went into how they have had no serious injuries in their five years of operation, and that the one serious problem that came up last year was a health problem the individual had not informed anyone of, if said individual had known of it themselves.

I believe that knowing we were a fairly well integrated group, as a class, and that we'd all be in one place and supervised was the real factor in the end. Parents like to know their children are safe and not getting into any trouble.

So, there we were on the last day of Summer. The Horde was at the doors before 9am. We wanted in and to get started on celebrating the last day of Summer. We all had bags with changes of clothes, towels and robes, and sundry other items like books, nooks, tablets, and what not. You'd think no one would have time for such things as reading, but you'd be wrong. Sometimes we needed time to rest from our fun, and those were some of the ways we managed that.

Oh. My. Goddess. Someone pick my jaw up for me please, I can't move. I knew Stacy was good looking and well built. She wore dresses and skirts that looked really good on her anytime I saw her in public. Today, here she is at the pool in this amazing one piece that covers her as required by the pool rules, but at the same time seems to make her look like sex in motion.

The outfit was black with what could be described, from the back, as a bikini bottom and straps that went up to the upper portion of her mid back. The front covered her breasts but was open all the way to below her navel with two strips that held the two sides together just below her breasts; I later learned the style is a monokini. It looked amazing on her.

Let me tell you a little more about Stacy. She may not be in our class, but she has a brother who is and asked if she could join us. We agreed readily. You have to understand, Stacy, for all her intelligence, being an upcoming Senior, and beauty, was not one to look down on us. She was as friendly as you could hope for; willing to help where she could, and actually helped many in band deal with the jocks who tended to want to abuse us verbally and physically for being "wimps" and such. She had a way with words that put them in their places. She also had connections that would mean no fun for the jocks if they pissed her off and they knew it.

Stacy turns 17 in a couple of weeks. She's a willowy 69 inches tall with a luxurious waterfall of pure black hair that flows down her back to the top of her ass. I could spend days brushing her hair or running my fingers through it if allowed. Her eyes were blue as the sky on a cloudless day. I have no idea what blood lines run through her veins and looking at her doesn't give a clue. She shares her facial features, it seemed to me, with Audrey Hepburn. Her body was sculpted from the finest marble, so smooth and flawless it seemed. Michael Angelo would have given his left nut to have been allowed to sculpt her. Her breasts were perfectly suited to her body, not too big, nor too small and they stood firm and high with a wonderful amount of bounce to them. The same goes for that lovely tight rear end of hers. Damn, I'm glad I was wearing board shorts and not a Speedo like some of the guys. Watching her climb up the three meter board was pure poetry in motion. Watching her make her dive was watching art being shaped before your eyes. She could have been in our school's dive team! And, swim! Oh, can she swim. She makes it look so easy and graceful that those around her look like they are all floundering.

That's Stacy Mills, for you. Walking Goddess of Wormwood High, and she doesn't even seem to realize the power she holds. Damn, she just caught me staring at her; just as I was trying to surreptitiously adjust my erection. I'm not sure what that look in her eyes means, but she's heading my way now. Guess I'll have to face the music. Those were my thoughts as I stood rooted in place waiting.

"Well, James," she started as she flowed out of the pool and towards me. "Do you see anything you like?"

"Ah, well ... Stacy, I'm sorry you caught me looking at you like that, but you are beautiful. I just never realized how beautiful you were until I saw you as I entered the pool area."

"Mmmm, flattery. I like it, James. Not many guys tell me I'm beautiful. Most seem to be too shy to talk with me. Others are just pricks trying to get into my pants to add another notch on their belts. So, are you expecting to add another notch to your belt, James?"

Oh shit, talk about being put on the spot. How do you respond to that. She knows she turns me on, or at least has a damned good idea that she does.

"Oh, James ... cat got your tongue? I've heard you've enjoyed the pleasures of a couple of your classmates. Are you now hoping to get into my pants? Well?" She grinned like the cat that ate the canary as she said that. Did she just lick her lips?

That was all I needed, she gave me a way to save myself, thank goodness.

"Stacy, as beautiful as you are and desirable, there is no way in the world I would tell you, or anyone else what I may, or may not have done with anyone else. Anything I do with another is between that person and myself. My mother taught me to respect women. Listening to all my female friends and what they have to say about guys who talk, whether it was fact or fiction, about what they did with any of the girls has taught me to never kiss and tell. Especially when prodded about it. Other than that, I'll be honest, you are as sexy as any model I've seen. So, me being a fifteen year old male who is fully heterosexual, I'd be lying if I told you I was not interested in you in a sexual way. What I can tell you is that I'd never touch you inappropriately."

"Hmmm. And, just what do you consider inappropriate, James?" This asked as she stepped closer to me. She was now well into my personal space and ran a finger through the front of my hair to "fix it".

"Well, ahhh ... damn it. Stacy, are you trying to make me embarrass myself out here? You touch me like that too many times and I'll need to get changed."

"Really? I affect you that much?" I was a bit shocked by the sincerity of her question, she wasn't being coy.

"Yes. You do. But, to answer your question, for me inappropriate would be anything without your permission. I don't mean a casual non-sexual embrace, or a chaste kiss on the cheek like I share with many of my girl friends. I mean anything that would be appropriate in a normal relationship, or more, depending on how close the two people are. I've been told I'm too good for my own good. I prefer that to being considered an asshole who can't keep his hands to himself and doesn't listen when told 'no' or to stop."

"I see. So, if I leaned in like this," she started as she leaned into me, "and kissed you," again matching actions to words by kissing me with the lightness of a butterfly lighting on my lips and lingering for what seemed an eternity (and oh goddess, her breasts were pressed firmly against me, too[!]), "would that be the same as giving you permission to kiss me and not have it be inappropriate?" The last whispered into my ear, which she then licked and lightly bit.

I shuddered in response and my hands went up to her waist of their own accord. My heart was pounding, I could hear my blood rushing through my ears nearly drowning out anything else. I was momentarily stunned and the smile on her face, as she leaned back to see my face was sultry; her eyes twinkled with mischievousness.

"Stacy, if we were alone... , " I started but wasn't able to finish as she stepped right up into me and kissed me again, her arms coming up behind my neck and pulling me into the kiss, to which I responded with eagerness before she broke the kiss and licked her lips as she looked up into my eyes.

"James, if we were alone you'd be doing more than kissing me. You're right. You are a good guy. Sometimes too good for your own good. But, I happen to like you. It doesn't hurt that you're tall, good looking and I love your curly red hair. I like what I've seen all Summer. I also like what I've heard about you. All the girls feel safe letting you know their secrets and simply being around you.

"Some of them are starting to see you as someone they want to date. Some will even want to go all the way with you. Others will just want to go out with you because you're a good guy and won't make them do anything they aren't ready to do, and still have a great time with a great guy.

"Me? I'm here for one more year. My auditions for Julliard and the Curtis Institute of Music went well, I believe. Remember that piece I played for you that one night, 'Lizmander' by Russel Pinkton. They told me that they were impressed with it. I should know by January if I've been accepted. In the meantime, I intend to get to know you better. Much better."

"Wow, Stacy. What can I say to that? I couldn't tell you 'no' if that's what really you wanted. I'm glad to hear your auditions went well. You know I wish the best for you, right?"

"I believe you do, James. Thank you.

"James, I am not asking you to be my boyfriend. I refuse to have a boyfriend this year. I am asking you to be a good friend and much more, but without strings. I know you and I may cross paths again. It would be difficult not to with our similar directions in life, as it stands currently. I've no doubt you'll be auditioning for Julliard, Curtis and possibly other musical institutes, like I have. I also have no doubt you'll be accepted. You seem to have a gift with woodwinds. I've heard you play Soprano and Baritone saxophones in our Symphonic Band and this Summer when we played with The Blue Moons. I've heard you play clarinet and more recently bassoon. I bet I could teach you to play flute as well as, if not better than, any of the members of the Concert band within a month's time. Anyway, enough talk. Let's get in the water and enjoy ourselves. I'm really enjoying the feel of you pressed against me like this," she said as she ground her self against my erection.

As she took my hand and lead me into the pool, it was difficult to miss the looks we were getting. I even got a bunch of thumbs up from my male friends. My female friends looked at me in a very different way. Some seemed put out, others seemed interested. For now, Stacy was all that mattered to me.


I'd never been to MECA before. I'd had no reason to go, but I had a great time. I spent a lot of time in Stacy's company and got to know her much better. I spent time with all my friends, often enough without Stacy. She didn't hog my time, though I would have gladly spent more time with her.

Aside from swimming, I tried my hand in the batting cage, where I nearly brained myself with my own bat. I guess I'll never be a threat to the likes of Tyrus "The Georgia Peach" Raymond Cobb. Went out on the field to play some Ultimate Frisbee and did a face plant or two. Having two left feet is a chore. Eight-ball pool was okay, but I was no pool sharp. Yes, it's "sharp" not "shark" though it's easy to figure out how the one became the other.

I got schooled in the game of Racket Ball by my good friend Fred; I won't be playing that game again anytime soon. Those balls hurt when they hit you! You'd think I'd do good on the basketball court; you'd be wrong. I was never good at playing hoops, but I was even worse now. In the end it didn't really matter. I had a good time and it showed. So did everyone else there.

We didn't have a lunch break as such. Instead, we had a buffet set out with fixings for salads, sandwiches and antipasto, and soups; there were even four different kinds of chili. Two were vegan, one had beans and meat, the other was (so, I understand it) original cattle drive style chili; it was a hot and very good.

Stacy re-joined me for the afternoon repast as did Nicole and Brenda. I didn't think this was a good thing and was waiting for the fireworks to start when they sat down with me. It was a huge relief to me when they started chatting like they would any other time at school, or when we were at the mall or any other similar place. Of course, the topic of discussion was me and that had me blushing.

"Are you trying to embarrass me, ladies?"

They all looked at me and laughed. Stacy answered for them, "Sorry, James. We're just so comfortable with you around and talking about anything that we didn't even think about you sitting there."

"Yeah, James," said Brenda. "We're not trying to make you feel bad, or embarrass you. It's simply a measure of how safe and comfortable we are around you."

Nicole simply smiled at me.

"So, how is it that us guys get shredded if we talk about you and what we do with you, but you can talk about us between yourselves and it's fine? I don't understand."

Nicole's response made me blush, "We got the pussy, James. That's why!" To which Stacy and Brenda broke up laughing and I just sat there shaking my head as I looked at the table.

"No, really, that's not it. I was just messing with you."

Brenda took over from there. "It seems unfair, and in a way it is. But, here's the problem. When guys talk, they make it about their conquests, real or fictional. They often brag about things they never did, or make what they did do out to be much more. This affects us, James. In some cases it leads to guys asking us out believing that we'll put out and fuck, or suck, anyone who asks. In a few cases it has lead to attempted rape, or even actual rape. Remember that girl in the news a year ago? The one who jumped off the bridge? One guy she went out with was bragging how he 'bagged' her and let everyone know she was a slut. He ruined her life with those lies and made her feel so horrible. She couldn't take it any more. She was still a virgin, James. But, many believed she was another school slut."

"James," this time it was Stacy, "that's one of the things that makes you so special. We know you don't talk, and won't. We appreciate that about you. As for us talking about you, be glad we are. We all like you. And, yes, we're comparing notes. Or rather, I'm getting their input on you," she giggled.

We enjoyed the food, each others company, and went off to see what else there was to do. Stacy and I had both brought instruments with us. I guess we both decided that we'd practice while here at some point. We never did practice. Instead, we found a music room and, with her on flute and me on my sax, had a jam session. Word got around and we soon had an addition on piano; Saul Grossman. The room wasn't very big, but we ended up with an audience. It was starting to get too crowded and we were asked to break it up. When the complaining started up the staff offered up that we could play in the dance hall section. Next thing we knew we were playing in the hall to over half the class. A little later a few more of our more Jazz inclined members from band joined us. The really fun part was Darrel playing beat box in place of a percussion section. It was a hoot and we all had a good time. We broke an hour before dinner was supposed to begin so we could get showered and ready.

Dinner was scheduled to be a proper sit down affair; some of our folks would actually be joining us for that, including my mother. The menu was simple. There were four entrees to chose from, Salmon with a dill sauce, roasted chicken with Rosemary, stuffed pork chops, and a vegan Mediterranean dish. There was a choice of Cesar Salad, side salad, and cob salad, as well. The sides were steamed mixed veggies, wild rice medley, curly fries, and French Onion soup. Dessert was a serve yourself bar with soft serve (vanilla, chocolate, and twist) with a variety of sprinkles; an assortment of fruit and cream pies and peach cobbler.

My mother sat with Stacy, who was on my left, and me. Brenda and Nicole went off to sit with their parents, though they did make a point to say hello to my mom. We'd managed to get a table that sat only four people at best; there weren't many of those. I was very thankful for that by the time the meal was done, because the conversation, (again), centered on me. My mom doesn't miss much and she noticed Stacy's interest in me and being who she is started to ask her about "us".

My mom already knew Stacy. They'd met a number of times over the Summer since we practiced together so often, and also at the various shows we played with The Blue Moons. So, she wasn't interested in our musical connections, if you get my meaning. I am not going to share the conversation they engaged in. Just know that it made me uncomfortable, though Stacy took it in stride. They were even laughing at times and never once was there any sense of ill boding. It's simply that my mother knows just how to embarrass me. She does it on purpose. Yet, Stacy laughed and they talked and I just ate and tried not to look like a red beacon of light. They did not talk about Nicole or Brenda, thank goodness. But, really mom, did you have to bring up that bit about me playing doctor with my cousin back in the third grade and how you caught me in the middle of the "examination", which was being carried out with a copy of Hustler as a guide? I about died of embarrassment then and there. Stacy just looked at me, smiled, and winked.

After dinner, my mother stayed on as a chaperon for the dance. I danced with Brenda, Nicole, and Stacy, and a few others, too. I wasn't the most suave guy on the floor, but they didn't seem to care. They danced with me, keeping enough distance to not get their toes crushed, while laughing and smiling. It wasn't laughing at me. They were honestly having fun! I could get used to this; just as soon as I got my right foot back.

When it was time to leave, Stacy got a ride with my mother and me. I hugged and kissed Brenda and Nicole good-bye and waved so long to the rest of my friends. What a great day it was. Well, except for being embarrassed.

We were almost out the door when we both looked at each other and said, "instruments!"

We ran back inside to the stage and just as I was about to pick mine up, Stacy grabbed me and pulled me in for one very hot sizzling kiss. Her hands dropped down to my ass and pulled me against her. What's a guy to do? I returned the favor. It felt like it lasted forever, but was more like thirty seconds. I was certain that I had a goofy look on my face and knew it for sure when my mother just laughed at us as she turned to walk to the car once we got back; this time with our instruments.

The big surprise, to me, was when we drove up to our house and Stacy came in with her bag and instrument. Mom didn't say a thing, but she did give me a knowing smile. Do I have a great mother or what?

Stacy stayed with me that night. We made out, we even engaged in some mutual masturbation, but we did not fuck. We fell asleep in each others arms and woke up with me spooning her from behind with my morning wood between her lovely ass-cheeks.

I slowly kissed her awake. It was over an hour before we had to be to school. Turned out that Stacy had brought along a change of clothes for school. She'd planned this. Though, she did have the back up plan of staying over with Brenda and Nicole if it hadn't panned out. Which, as you can guess, is where her parents believed her to be.


I went and took care of my three esses in quick order then got dressed and headed downstairs to make us breakfast. Today was pancakes with eggs and sausage. Or cereal if you didn't want what I was cooking. Mom was down shortly before Stacy and the interrogation began.

"So, how was your night?"

"A big surprise, for one. Other than that, it was great."

"Did you use the condoms I left for you?"

"Weren't needed mom. One or two," I asked her, meaning pancakes.

"One will be fine and could you poach my egg, please?"

"Sure. Let me get the pan and some vinegar." Matching words to actions I got out the small pan, filled it with water and a splash of vinegar; it helps keep the egg together when you drop it in the water to poach it. Don't use too much, you don't want to taste it.

"Now then, you didn't need to use them? Are you saying she's on the pill?"

It was just then that Stacy came down in a lovely skirt and blouse combo, her hair up off her slender neck looking like a a super model. "Not at all, Ms. Underwood. We didn't have intercourse. We enjoyed one another in other ways, but we did not even engage in oral, let alone intercourse."

Needless to say, my jaw dropped.

"James, pick up your jaw. She promised to be honest with me. It was part of the deal for her to come over. She's a good young woman. Someone who will go far. Treat her well. And, yes, I know you're not going to be a 'couple' and I think that's best. Just remember what I've taught you about respect."

"Yes, mom. I have so far."

"He's a good guy, Ms. Underwood..."

"Please, Stacy, call me 'mom' or 'Janice'."

"Sure thing, mom."

"See, that wasn't so bad."

"Stacy, pancakes, how many? And, how would you like your eggs? I also have sausage links."

"Just one pancake and an egg with one link, please." Her smile lit the room for me.

My mother's pancake and egg were done and I served her. I had two of each on for myself. I dished up Stacy's from my own that were just finishing. I made a new pancake, added an egg and already had enough sausage to fill in my plate.

We talked as I cooked and then joined them in eating. We discussed our schedules, Stacy's hopes for Julliard or Curtis, and our Summer performing with The Blue Moons. Soon it was time for us to all head to school or work. I kissed my mother good-bye and walked Stacy to school. She'd come back by after school to get her things.

What an auspicious way to start the new school year.

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