Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Teenagers, Romantic, First, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A High School boy gets knocked over and knocked out at a Friday night football game, only to wake up in an angel's lap. This is their story. Things happen throughout, but what's consistent is it's a love story between two teenagers. Winner of the 2006 Clitoridesawards, 2nd place, Best Heterosexual Story.

Jack and Jill
His name was Hill
Behaving as he oughta
She knocked him down
And with a frown
She came tumbling after

My name's Jack Hill. There's nothing extraordinary about me, I'm just your normal, every day senior in high school. My buddies and I all walk to school together in the morning and back home in the afternoon. Since we live in Southern California, we don't usually have to worry about the weather.

Of course, being normal boys who don't have a clue about the opposite sex, the normal topic of conversation is the girls in our lives. Or, to be more precise, the girls that we wished were in our lives. Talk of these girls and what the speaker would like to do if he got the chance comprises about 90% of our communication. There are some common words used to describe the hoped for actions and body parts, but I, like all the others have no idea what most of them really are. I may understand the concept but have never done or seen any of them. I don't think any of us have ever actually talked to a girl socially other than to stutter a "Hi" and run away.

Friday nights were football night. All six of us would pile into Jeff's parents' mini van and go to the field at whichever school the game was. There were eight schools in our school district and each team played the others once at home and once at the other schools' field. So, half the time we went to our school, the rest we got to drive to another school. The most distant school was 25 miles away.

Since all the schools were relatively close together, there was usually a fairly even distribution of home and away fans. The home fans sat on their side of the field, the away fans stayed on the other side of the field. The only time they normally mixed was when we all crowded through the main gate to get in or out or met at the snack bar or restrooms.

I went to Fernmont High. We were the first school in the Fernmont school district. This week we were playing Highpoint. They were the second oldest school in the district and had always been #2 as far as Fernmont was concerned. The rivalry between the Fernmont Foothillers and the Highpoint Highlanders had been going on since before any of us were born. Whenever we played each other, both schools held a pep rally that got all the students enthusiastic about their team. To be quite honest, I'm surprised nobody from one school attacked anyone from another. There were some schools closer to the city that had actually canceled night games because of some fights that had broken out. A couple of kids ended up in the hospital with knife wounds.

Each week two of us would go to the snack bar at half-time and battle the crowd. They would return loaded down with soft drinks, nachos, popcorn, hot dogs and candy bars for the group. This week it was Jeff and me that got to go. The game was tied at 14 when we left our seats with requests of what to get from everyone.

There was some minor pushing and shoving between students as we were all thrown together in front of the snack bar. It was kept under control by teachers from both schools who had been volunteered to act as chaperons. Jeff was at the front of the line, ordering this week's junk food. I was standing behind him, waiting for him to start piling trays and boxes in my arms for the walk back to the stands. Jeff had just handed me a tray with six sodas in it when I felt somebody crash into my back. The next thing I knew I was falling forward. I saw Jeff move out of the way, then the counter broke my fall, catching me square on the chin. I felt this pain in my jaw and saw soda flying out of the paper cups I was holding. The last thing I heard before blacking out was a female voice crying out "Oh, my God!"

I thought I was in heaven. I was on my back. I could feel grass underneath my hands. Someone was gently running her hands through my hair, over and over. Somehow I knew it was a woman. Her touch was similar to what my mom's would be but different. Sexier somehow.

I opened my eyes to see an angel. At least she looked like an angel. She had blond hair that fell to the top of her breasts. Blue eyes that I got lost in for a couple of seconds. And a smile that made me feel whole.

"Jack. Are you OK?"

I turned to the voice. Jeff was kneeling down next to me with a worried look on his face.

"I think so." I took inventory, wincing when I touched my jaw while checking out my face. I heard a feminine "Oh," and the hand that was stroking my hair pulled me toward her stomach. "My mouth's a little tender."

"Do we need to call a doctor?"

"Nah. I'm sure I'll be OK."

Jeff picked up some food that was on the grass next to him and got up. I started to rise but was held down by my angel. "Don't go."

Jeff looked surprised, then said "Yeah. I'll take this up to the guys and then I'll come back for the rest. You just relax."

I settled back down in her lap and the hand on my chest relaxed. The stroking of my hair resumed. Her smile showed concern as I turned back to her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Jill. Jill O'Hara."

"Why am I in your lap?"

The stroking stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this bothering you?"

"Not at all. I thought I was in heaven when I woke up."

Her face heated up when I said that but the smile got brighter. "No, I'm afraid not. I got pushed into you and knocked you over."

"Oh. Well, if I had to get knocked over by someone I'm glad it was you."

Her smile got a little brighter, as did her face. "So, I guess you're Jack."

"How did you... oh, Jeff must have used my name. Yeah, I'm Jack. Jack Hill. I feel kind of weird lying in your lap like this."

"I'd feel better about it if you would. My father's a doctor. I sent my girlfriend to get him when I knocked you over." She'd stopped stroking as we started talking.

"I'll stay under one condition."

"What's that?" She had a worried look on her face.

"You keep stroking your hand through my hair like you were."

Once again her face and her smile both got bright.

A giant of a man was suddenly towering over us.

"So, you went and damaged another boy, I see."

"Oh, Daddy. I got pushed."

"Likely story. Well, how much damage did you do to this one?"

I tried to sit up but his beefy hand held me in his daughter's lap. "Just hold on there, son. Let's just see how much damage my daughter's done to you before you go off half cocked. I'm Dr. O'Hara, by the way."

"Jack Hill."

He was surprisingly gentle for being such a big man. His hands rapidly went all over my body. He bent both arms and legs as well as my wrists and ankles.

"Well, how does your jaw feel, young Jack?"

"It hurts a little. I really think I'll be alright." I started to sit up only to be pushed back into Jill's lap.

Her father's fingers felt the joints where my lower jaw met his skull near my earlobes. "Does that hurt at all?"

"No, sir."

"Well, Jillian. At least you didn't disconnect his jaw." He looked back at me. "Any loose teeth? Bite your tongue? Anything else?"

"My tongue's fine. I can't feel any loose teeth."

He pulled me up a bit and had me rotate my head to make sure my neck hadn't been damaged when the counter caught my chin. "Well, it looks like you'll live. But don't be surprised if that chin has a big black and blue bruise on it tomorrow. If it hurts an aspirin or two should take care of you. What about you Jillian? Did you do any damage to yourself?"'

"No, Daddy. I'm fine. Can we give Jack a ride home?"

"Oh, that's OK. I came with my friends."

"Well, son, my daughter has obviously taken an interest in you. She'll make your life miserable if you don't go along with her. Not to mention mine. I'd feel better if I knew you got home in one piece, too. You don't have a woman you need to get back to, do you?"

"No, sir." Jill giggled and pulled my head closer to her chest with both hands.

"You better just sit back and relax, Mr. Hill. It looks like my daughter's not going to let you go very easily."

Jeff walked up just about that then. "Hey, Jack. We're starting to get worried about you."

"You guys just want the rest of the food."

He laughed as he bent over to pick it up. "So, are you ready to come back to your seat?"

"I think I'll stick around here with Jill." She pulled my head closer as I said this. "I'm getting a ride home with her and her father, too. You guys will have to go to Taco Bell without me."

Jeff looked concerned. "Are you sure about this?" He was making some motions I couldn't interpret at first, obviously trying to tell me something. I finally figured out he was pointing to the other side of the field, then at Jill.

I took a closer look at Jill. She was wearing a plaid button that had "Go Highlanders" printed on it. I looked at Jeff, then covered my face in terror.

"Oh, no. Tell me it isn't true. You Highlanders don't really bite the heads off Foothillers and eat them, do you?"

Jill turned a deep red and punched me in the arm. She immediately turned redder and said "Oh, God, I'm sorry," then rubbed where she hit me trying to make it better. Her father was looking at Jeff and laughing. Jeff looked embarrassed about the way he was acting.

I looked over at Jeff. "I'm sure I'll be fine, Jeff. But thanks for worrying about me."

I was pronounced fit to walk by her father and Jill half led, half carried me to where they were sitting. Of course that meant I was in the middle of enemy territory. I got some balled up napkins, hot dog wrappers and cups thrown at me when I cheered as our team intercepted a pass. Jill turned around and chewed out whoever threw stuff, ready to take them all on. There was fire in her eyes that made me glad I wasn't her enemy.

Highpoint got the ball back and slowly worked down the field. Jill jumped up, clapping and cheering when they completed an exceptionally long pass. She realized what she was doing and put her hand over her mouth as she once again turned red. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Hey, your team made a good play. It's OK for you to cheer."

Fernmont wasn't able to keep up with Highpoint in the second half. We scored one field goal to three of their touchdowns.

The second half wasn't a total loss for me by any means. I got to check out Jill. She was an amazingly attractive girl. Her smile was breathtaking. I loved the way she would turn red at the first sign of embarrassment. She seemed concerned about me. And I was able to talk to her. And tell her she was beautiful, I thought I was in heaven. Yeah, I know, it sounds corny. But I'd never been able to just come out and talk to a girl and tell her how I felt. Forget about stammering, I couldn't even open my mouth in a pretty girl's presence.

It was different with Jill. We seemed to fit together. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for me to put my arm around her when we sat down. And for her to rest her head on my shoulder, sighing as she did. Her father was on the other side of her from me and just acted as if nothing was going on.

I got introduced to Wanda. Wanda is Jill's best friend. She seemed genuinely happy that Jill had found me. She was perfectly content to sit on the other side of Jill's father and talk to him for the rest of the game. I found out later that Wanda had her share of boyfriends and had been after Jill to get over her shyness and meet someone.

When the game was over Jill apologized to me for winning. I told her not to be foolish. She must have figured I wasn't going to collapse because she was content to just hold my hand as we walked behind her father and Wanda on the way to the car. She was about three inches shorter than my 5'10". She would have had no problem being a cheerleader if she wanted. She had the classic cheerleader body. Muscular legs, a tight, round butt, tits that stood out proud, but not too far out. Her breasts would please any man but wouldn't be sagging down to her belly in 30 years. She had a definite waist, giving her a classic hourglass figure. I knew she would look spectacular in a bathing suit.

The crowd dispersed as we got to the parking lot. Her dad and Wanda were about fifteen feet in front of us. I squeezed her hand and she looked up at me.

"You know how you rubbed my arm to stop it from hurting?"

"Yeah." She looked like she was afraid I was upset at her.

"Well, you haven't done anything to stop my mouth from hurting."

She appeared to be thinking, then brightened up as she realized what I was talking about. She stepped closer to me and leaned into me, closing her eyes as she did so. She gently touched my lips with hers. I put both arms around her and pulled her body into mine. Her hands came up around my back and she started to kiss me. Hard.

"Arggghh." I pulled my head back and pushed her away, my hands on her waist.

"What's wrong? What did I do?"

"I'm sorry. It just hurt when you started kissing me hard."

"Hey, you two. Are we going to be able to leave tonight?" Her father was standing about twenty feet away, his hands on his hips. Wanda had just sat down in the front seat of the car he was next to, giggling.

I grabbed Jill's hand and we ran to the car. Wanda was smiling as she leaned forward so we could squeeze behind her seat to get in the back.

After we were all in the car her father asked me where I lived. I told him which exit to get off on the freeway.


"Yes, Jillian."

"I feel kind of guilty. Because of me, Jack missed eating at half-time and now he should be going to Taco Bell with his friends. He's going to starve because I ran into him."

"So you want to go to Taco Bell?"

"Not really, Daddy. Could we go to Perlione's? For pizza?"

"Sure, Sweetheart. Is that OK with you Wanda? Jack?"

We both said it was fine. I added that I didn't know if I was dressed for Perlione's, especially with the soda stains on my shirt.

"Don't worry about it, Jack. I've got a sweatshirt in the trunk that will be OK for tonight. As long as you don't mind a Highlanders sweatshirt."

"It can't be any worse than sitting on your side of the field, Sir."

"Attaboy. OK, Jillian, we'll get pizza at Perlione's."

Perlione's was established about 30 years ago by an Italian immigrant who worked his ass off in several restaurants, first as a busboy, then as a waiter and finally as the manager. He saved his money and rented a building that had housed a bar before it went out of business. He, his wife and his three children painted the place, stripped the bar and the hardwood floors and then coated them with a marine varnish to make them shine and stand up to abuse. They served food on rented tables as the patrons sat on rented chairs with rented napkins in their laps and rented silverware in their hands, eating off rented plates. The first night they had to eat the antipasto he'd spent all day preparing because they only had two customers. The next night they had five. The following day Perlione printed up 5000 single page fliers and his wife and kids spent half the day handing them out to people on the street and putting them on windshields. They had over 20 people that night.

The fliers got them in. Later, after he was established and the rental days were long gone, the newspapers, billboards, radio and TV ads got more in. But it was the food and the service that kept them coming back. Their best advertisement was word of mouth. You couldn't go to Perlione's without telling someone about it.

He now had six locations. If you wanted fine Italian dining, you went to Perlione's. I'd heard the food was fantastic but I'd never had the pleasure of eating there. I knew reservations were hard to get for dinner. Since it was almost 10:00, I figured we might be able to get in

Dr. O'Hara was on a cell phone. He looked at a menu and chose a programmed number. He held it to his ear.

"Ronald? It's John O'Hara. I'm fine, thank you. Yes, we're both doing great. Listen, Ron. I've got my daughter and a couple of her friends with me and they want one of your super pizzas after the football game. My daughter tried to kill this poor kid and I figure if I feed him he'll find it harder to sue me. Oh, sure. He's fine. OK. We're 8-10 minutes away. Yeah, an extra large with everything will be fine. OK, thanks a lot, Ron. We'll see you in a few."

Jill looked at me. "Daddy delivered three of Mr. Perlione's grandchildren. We can usually get in there whenever we want to."

I smiled at her. "My mouth still hurts. Do you think you could try to make it better again?"

She looked bad when I told her it hurt, then smiled when I asked for her help. She put a hand behind my head and pulled me over to her, then started lightly kissing my face. Where her father had felt below my ears on both sides. Both cheeks. My throat, below my chin. My chin itself. Finally, my lips. Light as a feather with a little moisture. She tasted sweet. I knew this was one sweet I could get hooked on. I kissed back.

She moved away and looked me in the eyes. "Don't do anything to strain yourself."

I reached behind her head and pulled her toward me. "I won't." We renewed the kiss.

"All right, you two. You wanted pizza, we're here. Try to pry yourselves apart for a while."

Her dad pulled into a space marked "Reserved" and parked the car. He got out and started walking toward the restaurant. Wanda got out and held the seat for us to get out, smiling the whole time. "You two look good together." Jill and I looked at each other and smiled.

Jill leaned into the car and reached over to a lever near the radio, popping the trunk open. She pulled out a Highlander sweatshirt that was about two sizes too big. I rolled up the sleeves above my elbows. It would do for one night.

We went around to the front of the restaurant and I opened and held the door for the two women. Dr. O'Hara was waiting near the Maitre D', then took off into the restaurant and to the right when he saw us come in. We followed and saw him go through a door off the main dining room as we entered the room.

The place was almost full. There had been about 8 people waiting to be seated when we came in so I guess Jill's father really did have some clout.

We went through the door he'd gone into and it was like we were in a different restaurant. The main dining room has white tablecloths on every table with silver candle holders and tapered, white candles. This room had sawdust on the floor and a big barrel of peanuts right next to the door. Jill stopped and got an empty three pound coffee can off a shelf above the barrel, then scooped up a can of peanuts. We then walked over to a table her father had claimed.

The rest of the tables were full. There were a couple of families at a long table, celebrating one of the kids' birthdays, complete with a cake with candles on it. There were tables with people in their 30's wearing their suits and fancy dresses and tables with kids from high school football games. The tables had red and white checkered tablecloths. These candles were stubby and were stuck in Chianti bottles with the wax running down the candles and onto the bottles. By the amount of wax caked on the bottles, it was obvious they were used over and over again.

We sat down and Jill plunked down the coffee can filled with peanuts in the middle of the table.

Her father said "Bout time you did something useful" as he grabbed a fistful of peanuts. He crushed the shells and popped the nuts into his mouth, dropping the shells on the floor as he emptied them. Jill stuck her tongue out at him as she grabbed her own handful.

She opened a peanut and picked out the nut with her right index finger and thumb. She held it in front of me and I opened my mouth. As she put it in, Wanda said "Oh, Gawwwd!"

Jill looked at her and said "What?"

"Why don't you just chew it for him?"

Jill stuck her tongue out. I got my own peanuts from then on.

A minute after we were settled in a waiter came over with a large mug of beer for Dr. O'Hara and a pitcher of Coke and three ice-filled plastic glasses for us. He was followed by a man in a tuxedo.

Dr. O'Hara stood up, shook the man's hand while clapping him on the back and said "Hi, Ronald. How's your family doing?"

"They're all fine, Sir. The baby hasn't had another problem since we had her into your office."

"Well, you tell your wife I want to see that baby again. Have her call my office on Monday and tell my receptionist I want her in sometime next week."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll do that. William, is the pizza ready?"

The waiter looked at him. "I don't know, Sir. I'll check on it."

"You do that." The waiter took off. "He's going to be a good one. We just need to whip him into shape."

Dr. O'Hara put down a half empty mug. "They're all good, here. The old man wouldn't let them last a day if they weren't."

"You're right about that, Dr. I have to get back to work. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

"I will. Take care, Ronald."

I looked at Jill's father. "Do you ever see any male patients?"

"Not over the age of two. That's why I want to make sure you get home alright. If you were pregnant, I'd have no problems with you."

"That makes me feel real confident, Sir."

Jill grabbed my hand and looked concerned. "It's OK, Jack. My Daddy's really a good doctor."

I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I know he is. We're just playing with each other."

She smiled and squeezed my hand.

The pizza came and we all dug in. I was hungry and this was exactly what I needed. When they said extra large, they weren't kidding. The pizza had to be two feet across.

Mr. Perlione sure makes a good pizza. I know he probably doesn't cook any more but you can bet he makes sure his food is prepared the way it would be if he made it all himself.

There were at least three types of cheese. It was impossible to pull a piece off without a string of cheese stretching between the pizza and the piece. It was even tough to break with your fingers.

The tomato was sliced. Not some pieces out of a can. Real, fresh tomatoes sliced for the pizza they were preparing to throw in the oven in a couple of minutes. There was a tomato sauce that I heard was cooked all day for that evening's pizzas in big pots that were four feet tall and five feet across. I have no idea what herbs and spices it had in it but it tasted sweet and spicy and slightly tart. After you bit into a piece and tasted the sauce, you knew you had eaten something. No swallowing without tasting. It even tasted more tomatoey than the run of the mill pizzas.

There was real meat as well. Pieces of bacon, two or three inches long after they'd been cooked. Thick slices of pepperoni, chunks of home made sausage, pieces of ham you could tell had been thick sliced from a real ham, then cut into 3" squares. And there were shrimp, each one a little bigger than my little finger. There was some fresh bell pepper, red, white and yellow onion pieces, a little celery. Most bites went through three or four layers. Or you could use a knife.

There were a couple of big jars with caps that had holes in them for shaking out the contents. One had what I assumed was Parmesan cheese, the other had some dried peppers. Dr. O'Hara smothered his pizza with both.

He'd hardly started his first piece when he was waving his arm to the waiter, pointing to his nearly empty beer mug. The waiter brought over another and that was half gone with one swig. "You better bring another couple. These don't last long."

Jill and Wanda ate their pizza as if this was something that happened every day. Maybe it was. I leaned over and whispered in Jill's ear. "Is he going to be OK to drive?"

She laughed. "He'll be fine. Don't worry, Jack. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

I have to admit, I was plenty worried when he ordered the next two beers. He looked at me and called the waiter back. On second thought, I don't need another two mugs. I'll drink them out of the bottle.

The waiter was back in a minute with two bottles of non-alcoholic beer. The three of them looked over at me and laughed. I'm afraid it was my turn to turn red.

We were all leaning back, holding our stomachs and there were still four pieces of pizza left. Dr. O'Hara called for the waiter to package up the leftovers. "Jack, would you like to take the rest home? It's awful good for breakfast on a Saturday morning."

"Thank you, Sir. I'm sure my mother and sister would like to try Perlione's pizza."

I had a box with the equivalent of a normal medium pizza on my lap as we drove to my house. Jill had both arms wrapped around my left arm somehow and was laying her head on my shoulder. I could feel her breast pushing against my arm. I was starting to get hard. I felt like her father should be watching out for her or something but he seemed perfectly happy with what she was doing and she wasn't at all shy even though he was just three feet away from her. I didn't know if I could show that much affection to her with a parent in the room.

We got to my house. Jill told her father she wanted to walk me to the front door.

"Don't let him put his hand in your pants."

"I won't, Daddy. At least not tonight."

If I'd said that to my sister, my mother would probably wash my mouth out with soap. If she'd answered me the way Jill answered her dad, she would probably be locked her in her room till she was 30.

We went up to the front door. The porch light had been left on for me so we were visible to her father and Wanda. I held her hand but was hesitant to do anything more.

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss, Jack?"

"I just feel weird with your dad right there and everything."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He's probably glad I found someone I want to kiss."

I still hesitated so she took action by herself. She reached behind my head and pulled me to her face. I could see her eyes close and her mouth open slightly and then my lips were on hers and we were kissing each other, swapping spit, tasting each other. I felt closer to this girl I met a few hours ago than I ever had to anyone.

We were both breathing hard when we broke apart. Jill had a big smile on her face. "That's better."

"You can run into me any time you want."

"I want you to call me tomorrow. Can you remember my phone number?"

"I think so."

She gave it me and then we kissed again. Her father finally honked the horn and we stopped. By that time I couldn't remember my name, much less Jill's phone number.

She gave it to me again. "Call me. Don't forget."

I went in the house. My mother wanted to know who was honking their horn at 12:30 at night. I went right to the phone and wrote her number on the message pad we keep there. Then I sat down with my mom told her about the miracle that had happened to me at the football game.

Chapter 2 »

Story tagged with:
mt/ft / Teenagers / Romantic / First /