Chapter 2 Stinky Finger Stories

After the Social, relations between the boys and the girls in seventh grade returned pretty much to normal at first – a kind of stand off with shy looks from girls and some fairly peculiar ‘showing off’ from some of the boys. But there had been a change on some level. Perhaps the girls were experiencing hormonal pressure to get ‘socially active’, or perhaps they were following the example that the grade eight girls at the social had provided. Whatever the reason, after a week or so, they began to run in a pack and talk about who liked who and giggle a lot.

I got some slightly envious teasing from some boys about dancing a waltz with Lynda, but I made a start on getting a reputation for not talking. By not talking.

Some of the girls were friendly, but I heard a few catty comments directed from other girls towards the ones I had been sitting with. Faced with girls as a pack, giggling rather than making conversation, and someone liking some boy before lunch but not liking them any more by mid-afternoon, I decided that the whole topic of ‘social education’ (as Mr Gunderson put it) was too hard.

That summer, I went on a five day hunting and fishing trip with Uncle Frank and a couple of his mates. He warned me that there was sure to be what he called ‘man talk’, and that this, like our talks about sex, should not be discussed with the rest of the family.

“What happens on the trip stays on the trip.”

“Like the All Backs on tour?”

“You got it!”

We caught a few fish and Uncle Frank’s mate shot a yearling stag not far from where we were camping. I helped dress it and he showed me how it’s testicles and its penis were connected inside its body. I took careful note of the way all the bits were connected, and that night, I started to explore the area behind my balls. That was very different from wanking as I usually did it, but I didn’t feel comfortable asking Uncle Frank about it in front of the other guys.

There was quite a lot of swearing and sexual jokes on the trip, and the other guys gave Frank a hard time about ‘Eileen’, the girl he had been engaged to.

After the trip, I asked him about the jokes I didn’t understand, and why they were teasing him about “Eileen”. He explained the jokes, but he didn’t want to talk about the teasing. He just said that they were ‘being pricks’, and promised that he would explain all that when I ‘needed to know’.

Eighth grade started in early February, and suddenly, Andrea McDonald was ‘Queen Bee’ among the girls. At first, it was subtle, Andrea and three other girls gossiping and giggling and talking about who was supposedly doing what with whom. After three or four weeks, the circle had expanded to include nearly a dozen girls with a couple of boys hanging on the edge, and the discussions had become explicitly sexual. I needed to talk to Uncle Frank, so I suggested a fishing trip. He agreed immediately

“I need to know about some stuff. Some of the girls are talking about stuff I don’t understand. They gossip and giggle and talk about sex.”

“I never taught eighth-grade, but I remember other teachers saying that sometimes girls get hormonal and competitive in a way that boys your age don’t. Whaddya want to know?”

“What’s necking and pashing and frenching? Is that all the same as sucking face?”

“Pretty much. They all involve kissing and nuzzling round each other’s faces and necks. Pashing would be open mouth kissing and frenching is using tongue while you are kissing.”

“What about ‘feeling up’ and ‘the bases’?”

“Your Mum and Dad would probably call it ‘petting’ and ‘heavy petting’. If you are kissing and pashing and frenching with a girl, you will probably be wanting to go further. If she is willing, you can explore her breasts and if you do that well, maybe later she will be OK about you exploring her pussy too. But that’s a fair way down the road.”

“And ‘the bases’ is how far you get?”

“Yes, but it’s probably better to think about what you both want to do rather than you ‘getting something’ from her.” His tone told me that he was saying something important, and I wanted to be sure I understood.

“Huh?”

“Girls are brought up to believe that if they do anything with a boy, they are letting him ‘get’ something. You will find you will do well with girls if you can persuade them that the best way to look at exploring sex is that you are both giving something by doing what you both want to do, rather than either ‘getting’ anything.”

“Yeah. I understand that now thanks, but how far is each base? I feel stupid not knowing.”

“First base is breasts, second is pussy but nothing inside, third base is fingers inside pussy, and home base is all the way.”

‘Going ‘all the way’ is full sex?”

“Yup – but you’re a long way from needing to know all about that.”

“Did you go all the way with Eileen?” I was curious and ignored the vague discomfort that I started to feel as I asked the question. Bad move! Frank was shitty.

“What did I tell you? NEVER talk about women by name! NEVER!” I guessed that there was more to the story of Eileen than I knew, but it was clear that the discussion was over, for now at any rate.

“Sorry! You did tell me. I guess I thought that when we were talking together, it was different. Like we’re not boasting or anything.” Frank thought for a minute.

“I guess it is different, but I don’t want to talk about Eileen.”

“OK. But one more thing?” Fank nodded, so I went on. “One of the girls talked about the eighth-grade kids playing ‘stinky finger’ last year and all the rest laughed.”

“Shit – eighth-grade! ‘Stinky finger’ is a sex game kids at your age and stage sometimes play. It’s pretty weird from my point of view, but some kids do it.”

“What do they do?”

“It starts in a mixed group. A boy and girl are chosen in some way, and have to go somewhere private for two minutes or whatever time is decided, and they pash and he tries to get his hand into her pants. The girl decides whether to ‘let him’, and if he succeeds, he has ‘stinky fingers’.”

“I think the kids used to go into the teacher’s resource room to play ‘stinky finger’ last year. No one is doing it so far this year, but some of the kids are talking and giggling about it.”

“I think it’s a pretty dumb game.” I probably already knew the answer, but I asked anyway.

“Why?” Uncle Frank was in teaching mode.

“Why do you think?”

“It’s not private – they might as well take out an ad in the school paper about who did what with who.”

“And?”

“It’s too fast, and sort of forced as well.” Frank nodded encouragingly, and I went on. “Some girls go because they feel they have to, and there’s all sorts of pressure on the boys too.”

“And?”

“Dunno. What else?” Frank grinned.

“If you get to the stage of pleasuring a girl by kissing and necking and fondling her breasts and pussy, you want her to be pleasuring you by touching your cock. Stinky finger doesn’t really cater for that. It’s more a kid’s game about status and all that shit.”