Chapter 1

Billy was the only boy I ever thought about. From the time I was 14 he was my boyfriend. We went to St Pius X together from the eighth grade until we graduated from High School. From that time until he got his drivers license we were really "pretend" boy and girl friend because, beyond an occasional smooch here and there, after a movie or a chaperoned school dance, we were rarely alone together. His Mom and Dad, as well as mine, made sure of that.

What I knew of sex would rattle in a thimble and if Billy had an interest or knowledge of it, he never let on.

Once we turned 16, (our birthdays were on successive days) our parents lost a little of the control they had over us as Billy got his license. He was allowed to drive the family car, and eventually his own, to work, and, as long as I lived along the way, he was allowed to stop and see me. I finally talked my Mom into letting us go for little drives on hot summer nights to cool off.

"Tell Billy not to let his parents know I let you get away alone", she would say and smile.

They all had little to worry about because when we did park, we mostly talked. If Billy had any pent up sexual energy, he released it by talking. By that summers end we had gotten into each other's head fully and totally about every aspects of life and what we expected of it, except for sex. I began to think I was obsessed with Billy's seemed ignorance of the subject.

Towards the end of that summer our goodnight kisses began to have a tenor that bordered on necking. I was hoping he and I were both waking up to new horizons.

It wasn't that I wanted to HAVE sex, at least intercourse, but I was curious about it. I was not a big masturbator, but I knew what felt good when I showered and washed. My first real session occurred after a Show and Tell at a slumber party at my girlfriend Kim's house. There were 4 of us sleeping over and we spun a bottle and HAD to tell the truth about the subject on the card we picked, after the bottle landed on us. Megan got

"describe the last sex you had, when you weren't alone". She flushed a beet red, so we all knew she had something to say.

She had dated Jim Beachamp, a senior, since he asked her to the Winter Snowball in December. After 8 months of a sophomore dating a senior, something had to be going on. Megan made us all swear never to whisper a word, and she went into detail of a session at Jim's parent's camp.

A trip to a Mets game in New York actually was a trip to the camp in the Catskills. She described every touch and feel and told us what a wonder a penis was to hold in your hand. I don't know if her story was all true, but she made me wet. It was the first time I ever really got juicy and wanted to touch myself to some finish.

When we finally retired that night I volunteered to put my sleeping bag on the parlor sofa instead of in the bedroom. (a lack of space) I was alone and laid on my stomach with both hands between my legs. I had what I thought then was a pretty good orgasm, as I bit down on the sleeping bag to muffle my noises.

Another night a few weeks later I repeated the same scenario as I replayed Megan's words in my head. I was beginning to wonder if and when Billy would make a move on me.

Was I pretty enough? Did Billy find me attractive? Were we too much pals to become anything more? I had lots of self-doubts about my looks and my body. That summer, before my junior year I went bathing suit shopping and tried on some bikinis. My Mom scared the crap out of me by just walking in my dressing stall, checking on me.

She saw me in the bikini and said, " With your body, you won't wear that! Your father would throw a sheet over you and douse you in Holy Water."

I didn't think I looked THAT good, but Mom said that attracting a crowd would not be a problem. Although I was never obsessed with my body, I figured my measurements to be 34c-22-34. That sounded pretty good to me, but when I looked in the mirror, I was not impressed.

If Billy was impressed, he never showed it. He never ever tried to even give me a squeeze or a feel. But, he sure liked kissing me. He would kiss me often in public, and when we said goodnight, it was always a long tongue kiss, but never anything more.

I decided I had to be the aggressor. So, one night, as we said goodnight at the end of my drive (we never kissed in front of the house), I put my hands around his head and fell back onto the seat making him press his body to me. I liked it. HE liked it.

His tongue way down my throat, he ground his chest into mine. I thought he was going to try and feel me, or do SOMETHING, but after about 3 or 4 minutes, he sat up and said we better get going before someone got suspicious.

On subsequent nights we replayed the same scenario, but he was the one who pushed me back onto the seat these times. Finally in our third night of this I feigned a leg cramp and got him to let me shift my legs, and he, in turn, his.

We returned to kissing and tongue battles, but now I felt his erection against me. Little by little, without him really trying or thinking it, he began to grind me.

I thought, "Oh boy, here we go, he'll try something and I can set some ground rules". But, he just necked and ground and pawed at my back and shoulders.

How could he not feel my breasts as I pushed my hard nipples and chest against him?

But, after a while he would call time and finish the trip up the drive to drop me off. Three nights in a row of this was having its affect on me. In 17 years of Catholic upbringing I had masturbated twice, now I had done the deed these 3 nights in a row, and it was getting better every time.

If I was getting hot pants and the need for release, what was Billy doing?

I could only figure that he respected me too much or was afraid of my reaction to try anything else. I was vexed at this notion because he was the only boy I was ever interested in and anyone at school knew it was Billy and Carree: couple.

If he touched me inappropriately I was not about to tell him to let me out of the car and never speak to me again.

We just knew each other too well for that. But, it was becoming apparent that if anything else was going to happen, I was to be the initiator.

Sunday morning the public library was closed, but the University's was open. I asked my Dad for a ride to their library saying I had a school project due at the end of the spring recess. Right after church I changed and Dad brought me there saying he would give me a few hours before family Sunday dinner.

Once at the library my mission was to find books on sexuality with hopes of answering the questions I did not want to ask anyone else.

When I went to the look-up to find books on the subject, there were two books that answered all my questions, "The Joy of Sex", and "Sexual Revolution; a woman's perspective". They were not exactly textbooks, but they answered what I wondered, frankly and to the point. From my reading I discovered that,

Interest in sex is normal.

Masturbation was normal, and healthy.

Good sex can be had without intercourse.

No sex is "dirty" if both agree to it.

Billy's aversion to even breaching the subject was a fear factor he got from his parents.

Billy probably talked openly and spoke of his wishes or conquests with his friends.

Billy definitely masturbated each night when he got home from our sessions.

The fact he would not make the first move was another parental stigma.

When I had "wet pants", he was probably "leaking" too.

By the time I was ready to leave I was definitely awakened on many subjects of sex, and wondered why I hadn't spoken more frankly about them with my girlfriends.

The night Megan had to describe her sex session with Jim to us at our slumber party, I bet she and my other 2 friends whispered details after I left the room that night to take the parlor sofa.

My "virgin Mary" reputation may have made them uncomfortable talking in front of me. (I was the only one who worried about Sunday church that night). I heard them giggling, but with both hands on my vagina and groaning into my sleeping bag, I really didn't care or wonder what the subject was then.

In my mind, I released Billy from blame for the fact I was going home horny, wet, and frustrated from our recent dates. It was apparent I was going to have to take the bull by the horns on the sexual front of our relationship. Whoops, didn't mean that pun, but...

Going back to school on Monday, I looked at every girl and wondered what sex experience they had.

Some, I said, "No Way", and others "probably every night". (why do some girls make themselves look so cheap?) But one thing I did see. I was better endowed and developed than most of the girls in school. Lots had larger breasts, but not the good shape mine had.

Some had shapelier butts, but were flat chested. Of course, by the end of the day I wondered if I was a lesbian. God, I am sooo paranoid.

But, I was convinced that, unless Billy was gay, (No - not more paranoia!), he had to want me, and thought about it often. I was just going to have to make the first move and speak frankly to make sure the door was open wide to honest talk that would not be embarrassing.

Billy brought me home from school as usual on Monday, but had to get right home to change for work. We spoke little on the way making small talk about lunch and homework. I leaned over to kiss him goodbye, a nice deep kiss, not one we usually shared at this hurried moment, and I followed it with 3 more pecks on his cheek and forehead.

I smiled and scooted over, opened the door, got half way out and turned back and caught him square in the eyes with a question.

"You DO know how much I care for you, right?", I said.

Stunned at first, he answered, " Yes, I guess so... well of course I do!"

"You think I'm pretty, right?", I countered.

"Are you kidding me? You're the most beautiful girl in the school, and everyone knows it. I'm proud to walk down the street with you."

I was stunned; Billy actually said something flattering with sort of sexual overtones (for him). Trying to be cool, I closed the door and looked through the window.

"That's sweet of you to say, what took you so long say it? Girls like hearing things like that, ya know", I said teasingly.

With that, I turned and walked up the walk and was surprised he didn't speed off as normal.

When I turned at the door before I walked into the house I looked back to find him watching me walk away and into the door. I mouthed a kiss as I went in the house. I watched his car roll down our long drive to the county road, before he finally sped away.

I wonder what he was thinking as he coasted down the drive?

I didn't see Billy besides at school the rest of the week. We both had track practice the rest of the week and that took up our after school time.

The girls' team was bussed over to the University track to run, while the boys used the school facilities. I was a second on 3 of the event teams; I was only there for the exercise, although I did actually compete once on a relay.

Billy was more serious about it, but was not a star by any stretch. He wanted to play football, but having to work weekends to save for college made it impossible.

By Friday I was ready for a night out with Billy. There was a dance at school and firehouse block party in town. I told my parents we would go to the dance and meet them at the block party. That way after we showed, we could sneak off together.

My mind raced as to what Billy and I might do for intimacy alone.

I was pretty sure I had him interested, or at least aware that I was interested.

My world crashed when Billy called and said that his uncle, the one he worked for, invited him to hunting camp for the weekend.

Deer season had just opened and the testosterone must have been running with his family's men. They were all hunters and Billy wanted into that rite.

Megan called me about 20 minutes later and said her Jimmy was going with them and wanted to know if I wanted to slumber with some of our friends after the dance. It was going to be 4 girls, all dateless, because their boyfriends were out hunting Bambi. We each felt jilted and we knew the boy's ears would be ringing.

The dance was fun, but there were way more girls than guys and we danced with each other. A couple of the more cloddy guys came over to ask for a slow dance. Each of our group of four decided to accept at least one invitation and hope the word got to our boyfriends. I danced with Mark Smith, a short, shy, kind of cute guy. We made small talk as we danced where he was quite outgoing.

I told him he was a nice dancer and thanked him for asking. He was nice, but he wasn't Billy.

Megan's Dad picked us up after the dance and brought us all to her house. It was a big house where Megan had almost the whole second floor to herself. She had a huge bedroom and the other room was converted into a TV and study room for her, plus her own bathroom. We each took a turn getting changed into our sleepwear and settling in the TV room.