Chapter 3: Down and Dirty - Hot and Wet

Getting Andrea on her own turned out to be simple. She drifted towards my desk about halfway through lunchtime, with a couple of her usual circle tagging along behind her. I stood and moved to stand in front of her.

“I’d like to talk to you, but privately.” She nodded towards the others.

“I don’t mind if they listen.”

“I do.” I was surprised by my own confidence. “You can tell other people what we talk about, but I won’t.” Andrea turned to the girls and made a ‘bye-bye’ gesture.

“Tell ya later.”

She followed me out into the playground, and I led her over to where the big roller for the cricket pitch was stored against the fence. I surprised myself by handing her up to sit on it with an elaborate bow and she giggled. I climbed up beside her.

“The teachers can see us through the staffroom window.”

“Exactly. And we’ll sit a bit apart. That will keep Gunderson happy.”

“The other kids will talk though.” I didn’t really know how to reply, except to stick pretty much to the strategy Uncle Frank had laid out.

“Let them. I won’t talk, and you can say as much or as little as you want.” We looked at each other, close enough to reach out and touch, but by no means ‘snuggling up’.

Andrea had, or was having, a growth spurt, and her navy blue serge ‘gym frock’ (not uniform, but pretty standard school dress for girls in NZ in those days), was a size small for her. As we sat on the roller, it rode up and showed a little of her thighs. She was still half a head shorter than me, and her dark brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail and tied with a fluorescent pink ribbon that matched her socks. Her ankles were slender, but her feet looked huge, and her white canvas tennis shoes were almost as big as mine. Makeup was banned for everyday wear, and there was a dusting of freckles across the top of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was cute rather than pretty or beautiful. Her ears were too big for a start, and there was nothing much in the bra which was obvious under her white blouse.

Later, I came to understand what it was about her that had made her ‘Queen Bee’ amongst the girls, but as we sat together on the roller, I was only concerned with the broad strategy Uncle Frank had mapped out for me. ‘Girls want to have fun. Some of them are very interested in sex and have strong sexual feelings. But they don’t want to get pregnant, they don’t want to get a reputation, and they don’t want to get into trouble with teachers and parents.’ I got that if I could tick those boxes, I would be off to a good start with girls.

“You’re really interested in sex, so am I.” Andrea nodded. “I’d like to talk about exploring some sexy feelings with you. She nodded again and smiled.

“Don’t you want to do more than talk? My cousin says all boys do.”

“I want to do lots more than talk, but not here at school. Getting caught playing stinky finger would cause all sorts of trouble.”

“You got a stiffy when you smelled John’s fingers though. I saw it bulge out your pants.” There was excitement in Andrea’s voice. I looked at her closely, and noticed a faint flush over her face and neck.

“I got excited by the smell and by thinking about doing that. Didn’t you?”

Andrea blushed further, and couldn’t or wouldn’t meet my eye. I didn’t know what to say or do next, so I waited. She kept her head turned away, and started drumming her heels against the roller. I still didn’t know what to say, but I remembered Uncle Frank telling me girls just wanted to have fun, so I tried a joke.

“Careful with your heels! We don’t want to break it!” The roller was steel, and weighed at least a ton, and Andrea got that I was making a joke. She gave a little laugh and seemed to relax a bit.

“Girls are embarrassed about smell, but the idea was exciting.”

“But you arranged for Robyn and Rosemary to do it. You didn’t do it yourself?” Bad move! Andrea’s face fell. She looked away again and seemed on the verge of tears. I didn’t know what to do, so I did and said nothing. Eventually, she turned back to me.

“We went to my aunt’s farm at Xmas. Cousin Alec is nearly fifteen and Amanda is seventeen. He tried to put his fingers in me and it hurt! I bled a bit, and Amanda helped me. She told me lots of stuff about sex and boys.”

“He sounds like a clumsy thoughtless pig.” Andrea nodded, but shook her head slightly at the same time. “Later, I’d like to hear about all the things Amanda told you, but wasn’t being with Alec exciting before he hurt you?”

“I enjoyed the kissing, and I wanted him to touch my breasts, and liked that, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to put his hands in my pants, and it hurt pretty much straight away.” I was twelve years old and woefully ignorant, but I remembered how Uncle Frank had emphasised only going as far as a girl wanted to go and no further.

“No one should pressure anyone to do anything they aren’t ready for and don’t want to do. If we get to explore some sex stuff together, I won’t ever do anything you don’t want.” Andrea looked a bit happier.

“What would you like to talk about with sex?” I didn’t really know where to start, but I was aware that my penis was starting to stir.

“Well you’ve had a boy put his fingers in you and hurt you, and I’ve never even done any kissing or pashing or feeling up with anyone. I suppose we could start by talking about what we’ve done with ourselves.” Andrea giggled.

“Amanda showed me how.” She was grinning, and there was excitement in her voice, along with some uncertainty.

“So what do you do?”

“You first. What do you do?” I found myself embarrassed, and said so.

“I’m sorta embarrassed. I do it lots. My Uncle Frank says all boys and lotsa girls do it. Touching yourself like that is called masturbation, and some adults reckon it’s bad for you.”

“Yeah, but what do you actually do?”

“Well, my penis is about five inches when it’s hard, so there’s enuff to get my hand around with the knob poking out the top of my fist. I hold it in my fist, just tight enough so that I can move the skin over the hard muscle underneath. I move my hand up and down, and it feels really nice.” I moved my hand to jack an imaginary penis. “Sometimes I use spit on the knob, so my hand slides over slippery skin at the end, and that’s even nicer. Sometimes I press underneath my balls with my other hand, pushing into the place where I think a vagina would be.”