Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, First, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Revisiting Abigail Ferguson of 'The Smile' at greater length and detail. Teenage angst, judo and motorbikes!
In most respects she was an ordinary looking girl ... average height, dark brown hair, grey eyes. She tended to wear baggy jeans and hoodies, and otherwise nondescript clothes. In Nursery, she was just accepted without question; in primary school, the kids soon learned to accept her when she didn't react to teasing ... you see, her face was disfigured by a large 'port-wine' birthmark. She had friends, a few, and was a quiet, studious girl. Her parents were not unkind; in fact they genuinely loved their daughter and discreetly ensured, as far as they could, that she experienced no bullying, so she grew up reasonably secure, accepting who and how she was.
At secondary school, she experienced some teasing, but mostly isolation. She got a reputation as a 'swot', usually having her nose in a book and, indeed did very well in her exams, collecting ten good GCSEs and four equally good 'A' levels; she had no problem obtaining a place at University to read for a degree in computer science.
She met Mike Simkins by accident. His girlfriend had decided it was time for some fresh blood, or something and had just given him the push; the University cafeteria was crowded. He almost turned around and went looking for his lunch somewhere else; after all, he could get a sandwich in the 'Cutting Edge', or a sausage roll or pasty in 'Heartspace'. For that matter there were plenty of places in town where he could have bought a decent meal, if not as cheaply as in the university catering facilities. There were one or two spaces ... one of them next to Sherise, his ex-girlfriend. Well, that wouldn't do. He could have made a point of occupying it, but was it worth the indigestion?
One four-place table had only one occupant ... Abigail. He didn't really know her, though he'd seen her around. They didn't, as you might say, move in the same circles ... socially, at least, though they did overlap on computer elements of his course. He gave a mental shrug, bought his meal and approached her.
"Excuse me ... d'you mind if I sit here?"
She looked up at him, a little flustered. "Why ... no, not at all, please do," immediately dropping her eyes back to her book.
He set his meal down, got out his own book and began to eat. After a while, he became aware that she was probably not as focussed on her book as she was trying to seem; he kept catching sideways glances, and her face was clearly showing a blush.
"Feel free to tell me to shut up," he said, "but what are you reading?" Taking another mouthful he raised an eyebrow enquiringly.
"Oh, this?" She held the book up so he could see the cover; it was a paperback ... a very worn and tired paperback. "Science fiction," she said. "The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Robert Heinlein."
"Wow ... that's an all-time favourite read of mine. The end is a bit sad, though, don't you think?"
She met his eyes for a moment before deciding how to answer. "I don't know," she said slowly, "I think it's sort of satisfying, in a way. And he left it open, didn't he? We don't know for sure if Mike is truly dead?"
He nodded. "True, got to agree with you there. What I like about his books is the way he explores the way societies might develop on other worlds. I mean, in the Moon, he gives a really consistent picture of a society that's developed, of necessity, in a penal colony when the criminals are no longer detained, but unable to leave ... and new people are being born that have never done anything wrong, but they can't leave either ... a sort of modern frontier society. Fantastic!"
"I know what you mean... " she paused, "his ideas of how marriages might have to work when there's a shortage of women; rather like polygyny in societies where there's a shortage of men ... and TANSTAAFL ... I think that's a great idea"
(Just in case you've never heard the term, it stands for 'there ain't no such thing as a free lunch'. Think about it, if you never have before.)
"What else do you read, then?"
"Oh, all sorts. Brave New World and 1984, of course, though I think they're depressing. Isaac Asimov – did you know he really was a scientist? His ideas about robots!"
"Sentient computers, huh?!
"Absolutely! That's why I went for computer science..."
He glanced at a clock and blanched. "Shit ... oh, sorry! Got to go, class in five minutes! Great talking to you ... see you!" He almost ran out, leaving his book on the table with his almost finished meal ... Her eyes followed him until he disappeared, then she shrugged, cleared his place and her own and after a moment picked up his book and looked at it; it was 'Speed of Dark' by Elizabeth Moon. She thought ... then put it in her own bag, and headed to the Learning Centre to do some work.
The next day, things were much less hectic and there were several free tables in the cafeteria. She saw him come in; her eyes followed him as he collected his meal, then returned to her book.
She didn't recognise the feeling in her chest when she heard him ask, "might I join you again?"
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat before answering. "Certainly! Please do!"
"Sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday. I left a mess for you."
"Not really," she rummaged in her bag. "You left your book..."
"Thanks! I don't want to lose that one."
"I hope you don't mind..." she paused, "I ... er ... read it last night."
He smiled at her, "not at all. What did you think of it?"
"She writes really well, doesn't she? I really got caught up in the story. I didn't mean to actually read the whole thing, I just dipped in at first. I felt sorry for Marjorie, though."
"I know what you mean. But her characters really grip you, don't they?"
"Oh, yes ... I'll be looking out for more of hers."
"Don't miss the Serrano books, and Vatta's War ... then there's some she collaborated with Anne McCaffrey..."
"I do need to work sometimes, you know!" They laughed together.
"And right now I need to eat," he said. "It'd be nice to not have to run."
The pattern was set; each lunch time (and some breaks between sessions) he found her and they talked books; mainly science-fiction, but they found they both had wide-ranging tastes which overlapped at several points.
It was about a week after that first meeting. He was drinking coffee first thing in the morning and reviewing some notes.
"Might I sit here?" Her quiet voice broke into his concentration.
"Why, yes, of course!"
She sat opposite him and sipped her own coffee.
He looked at her and grinned. "We'll have to stop meeting like this; people will talk!"
She looked worried. "Do ... do you mind?"
"Of course not, I've just always wanted to use that line!"
She gave him a sort of half smile. You've got a networks class in Harmer, haven't you?"
"You know I have – so have you!"
"I ... er ... thought we might walk there together..."
"You don't mind?"
"Not at all!"
She was a little ahead of him as they left; he was dealing with their cups on a tray. She passed next to Sherise and her cronies. Sherise said something as she passed; Mike couldn't catch what it was, but he didn't miss the effect it had on Abigail. He didn't really need to know what it was; he could guess at the sort of thing. He caught up after putting the tray on the carousel – she was still flushed and looked unhappy; he realised he was feeling anger toward his ex-girlfriend and ... something else toward this other girl; someone he wouldn't have looked twice at a month before.
"They're showing 'Star Wars; the Revenge of the Sith' at the Odeon. I was wondering if you'd like to see it with me?"
She stopped and turned to look at him; her jaw dropped and she looked stunned before saying rather bitterly, "are you saying you are so hard up you want to be seen with poor disfigured Abigail? Or is it that you feel sorry for me?"
He just looked at her, meeting her eyes. "I guessed she'd said something like that. You know, I'd call her a bitch, except that would be unfair to female canines. I ... I've been working up to asking you out. Just sitting with you and talking to you recently ... it's meant more to me than any date I've had with any girl up to now. The more I know you, the more I like you. It's really good talking to a girl who can hold a conversation about something other than clothes or sex."
She kept looking at him, seeing the truth in his face. A smile spread across her face, lighting it up, transforming her. His heart turned over; he felt as though he was falling and knew his life had just irrevocably changed.
"Then, okay ... yes. I'd like to!"
"Tomorrow?" Hope in his voice.
"Sorry," she did look sorry, "can't do it. Wednesday ... or Friday evening?"
"Wednesday it is. Pick you up?"
"No need. I'll meet you there." She saw disappointment in his expression. "If you're good, I'll let you ride home with me." With a smile.
"I'll hold you to that," he smiled back.
"Oh ... I hope you do..." she smiled back. "Don't you think we should be on our way, though?"
As it happened, she really did have something else on for the following evening; a favourite uncle and his wife visiting the family. You may have noticed that the 'favourite' part did not apply to the wife, even if she was legally at least her aunt. She'd been half resigned, half looking forward to the evening with them. It wasn't unpleasant, in fact, until the aunt started on about student life, and making the most of her youth ... and working in the occasional snide comment about making the most of her assets ... and wasn't it a good thing Abigail was so bright? Abigail could feel herself shrinking, though something inside was growing; something hard, and dark, and getting hot.
She was not the only one reacting. Her parents' lips were thin with tension and they were only just beaten to the punch by her uncle.
"Lisa! We're guests here. If you don't want to be here, I'll arrange a hotel room for you. I'm quite ashamed of the way you're talking to Abby here and her social life is none of your business."
She opened her mouth to speak, but when she saw the expressions on their faces she shut it again, and after a short pause said, rather stiffly, "my apologies, Abigail." She was not very convincing, but Abigail gave her a short nod anyway.
"Perhaps, you'd excuse me?" She asked them, "I really need to get an early night. Mum ... could I have a word?"
"Of course, sweetheart. Right now?"
In her room, she sat on the bed and waved her mother to the swivel chair at the computer desk. "Mum, I wasn't going to say anything ... but ... I've met a young man at Uni who ... well, he talks to me, and treats me like a normal human being. It was a sort of accident, really. Anyway, he ... asked me to go to the pictures with him tomorrow."
"That's great, love! Will you bring him to see us?"
"I was going to meet him there. I mean, we're friends I suppose and I'm not sure..."
"He's asked you for a date, though, hasn't he?"
"Well..." she explained what had happened. "He was lovely about it. I'm just not sure if ... well, he's not just being kind because of that ex-girlfriend of his."
"I don't think so, dear. I mean, it's a first date and they're always sort of 'do I want to go any further with this person', but you have to have a first date for there to be a chance of a second. Even if he never asks you again, and I think that'd be very unlikely from what you've said, you need to go and enjoy yourself."
"The other thing is ... I don't know what to do about, well, dressing up. I'd thought I'd just go as I am sort of thing, but..."
"And Aunt Lisa's bitchiness has got you worried?"
"Well, yes. Do you think I ought to try to cover up my face – makeup or something?"
"You want my advice?"
"That's what I'm asking for."
"Maybe a little makeup; but I don't think trying to hide your birthmark is the right idea. Have you got any free time tomorrow?"
"I'm okay until eleven; I've got a phase-test at eleven-thirty."
"Right then. I know your wardrobe. First thing tomorrow, we'll go into town and find you some things that are a little more flattering than your usual sacks. Then, if you see your boyfriend, get him to meet you here. I'd like to see your aunt's face when you're collected for a date..."