Horny But Not Desperate
Copyright© 2023 by Eddie Davidson
Chapter 1
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A new girl arrives in Susan's school. The new girl is quirky, adventurous, wears Doc Martens and has a bald head. Susan is fascinated by the new friend, and her home life. They embark on a coming of age story.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Teenagers Consensual School Mother Brother Sister MaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys
A new girl transferred into my homeroom in the middle of the year. The first day she walked into class, everyone laughed at her, even the teacher.
Anna stood in the doorway of our classroom, holding her books. She was around 5 feet tall and had a pretty face with sparkling blue eyes. She smiled at first when the giggles began. It seemed she was expecting that reaction from our class.
Anna wore simple clothing, nothing that would raise an eyebrow or violate the dress code. She wore a garden-variety choker that is common to stores like Hot Topic in the mall, and she was wearing Doc Martens boots.
The reason my entire 10th-grade class laughed was simply that Anna was completely bald. The top of her head looked polished and made her look like an alien. No one expected that.
I felt instant sympathy for her. I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. I am shy, bookish, and a little nerdy. The only reason the seat next to me was available was that I usually tried to sit by myself.
“Hi, my name is Anna,” she whispered as she set her books down quietly while the initial shock faded.
“I am Susan,” I replied awkwardly. I flicked my eyes down to an artistically carved “S” another student had carved into the desk. I often liked to trace my finger over that carving and wondered about the audacity of whoever did it must have had to carve into the wooden desk during class.
“Okay, class, we obviously have a new student,” Mr. Fredericks read the transfer papers that Anna had handed to him as he calmed the others down. “Obviously, Ms. Fox looks a little different, and you’ve all had your reaction. You are in 10th grade now. You aren’t Freshmen any longer. Can you please be a little more mature?”
A girl that liked to sit up front named April lambasted him for laughing as well. Mr. Fredericks apologized to Anna. “I apologize for my reaction Anna. I shouldn’t have done that. You caught me by surprise,” he said.
“That’s okay, Sir. It happens all the time,” she replied politely with a contrite frown that suggested she really had gotten used to ridicule.
He continued with his lecture, and a few weeks went by before I summoned the courage to talk to her. Everyone avoided her, and she seemed fine with that. I didn’t see her try to make friends, but she wasn’t a loner like me either. Anna simply went about doing her classwork and didn’t seem to let it bother her.
I didn’t run in a circle of girls that spread gossip. I had no idea if there was any gossip about Anna. I assumed people thought she was into punk rock. Most days, she wore some different kinds of collars. Some of them were faux leather, some were metal, and a few were lace chokers. It was definitely an odd choice and a pattern.
She didn’t wear t-shirts with punk bands on them, and other than the boots and the bald head, she didn’t seem like a punk rocker. However, I got the impression she might be a rebel or a bad girl.
One day, I bumped into her in the hallway. I literally ran into her because I was looking down at my tennis shoes while I walked down the hallway. “Sorry,” I apologized as I went to my knees to pick up my books. She went to hers and said the same thing.
“It was my fault,” I blushed a little and brushed some of my hair out of my face.
“Care to argue about it?” she chuckled. I looked up at her just as Anna was flicking her bright blue eyes up at me. It seemed almost like slow motion – something out of a movie. I was mesmerized.
Her upturned nose, pouty, full pink lips, and the freckles on her high cheeks were adorable! I instantly felt a little jealous of her. Not bad jealous, just wishful-I-was-half-as-pretty sort of jealous. I don’t think I’m a lesbian, but I’m pretty sure if I was a guy, I’d think she was beautiful. Even bald, to me, she was a heartstopper. I think if she’d had a full head of hair, maybe her facial features wouldn’t have left me quite so speechless.
Even though I was in 10th grade, I had no real interest in boys or girls. I knew I was supposed to date, but no boy had expressed interest in me, and I had anxiety just thinking about what I’d say if they did. The fact that Anna wasn’t a boy made it a little easier to break the ice.
After that, we began to sit NEAR each other at lunch. We didn’t sit next to one another. I had found a lunch table almost completely by myself that I shared with a kid that only spoke Spanish. She didn’t ask if she could sit there. She simply took a seat about two seats down from me and started eating one day.
Things remained like that for about two weeks. We were cordial to one another, but I was way too shy to start a conversation. I kept practicing it in my head. The scenario in my head would be that I would say something stupid like, “So, are you into punk rock?” and then she’d say, ‘no, you dummy.’
That’s about as far as I thought that scenario out.
As fate would have it, one day, my mom called to tell me that I had to walk home from school. I lived about two miles away. It was just far enough that I could not get a bus ride but too far to walk. Usually, my mom or dad took me back and forth to school.
My older brother, Jake, had just got his license, and Mom gave him her old 1995 Honda Accord. I called him, but he had to get to work. I knew he wasn’t just blowing me off. I resolved to walk home. I had done it before. It just wasn’t my favorite thing.
The weather was nice, and the neighborhood I had to pass through was decent. It was low-income single-family houses and duplexes mostly.
I carried all of my books home. I did not need them, and usually, I just put them in Mom’s car and don’t think about why I did that. It’s a habit I’ve had since kindergarten. Today, they were getting heavy in my arms as I walked home.
“Are you stalking me?” Anna asked.
I turned and looked at her awkwardly. Was she really accusing me of stalking her? I was in front of HER. I hadn’t even seen her.
“Sorry, it was a joke,” she apologized.
“Oh, sorry,” I apologized back. I did not want to offend her by not laughing, but now I felt embarrassed that I hadn’t realized she was teasing me.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked.
“No, not at all,” I looked at my shoes.
“That’s a lot of books,” she observed that I had one for every subject. Anna had on a backpack, but her hands were free.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I do that. I always bring them home,” I admitted with chagrin.
“You never know. You might want to feed them to your dog?”
I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not.
“Can I carry a few for you?” she asked politely.
“No, I am fine,” I tightened my grip on them and wrapped my arms around my books like I was hugging them.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have...” Anna clearly felt dejected and slowed her pace so that I walked ahead of her.
“Actually, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me since I started at Lincoln High,” I admitted. I slowed my own pace so that Anna caught back up to me.
“That’s sad, but I get it,” Anna admitted as she matched my pace.
“I guess people are mean to you?” I said.
“I’d probably enjoy that,” she quipped. “No, they don’t know what to make of me, and so I think they just laugh.”
“I don’t laugh,” I half-whispered.
“I know. That’s why I offered to carry your books, silly!”
I reluctantly gave her half of my books. “I appreciate that. I have about two miles to walk, though, and I doubt you’d want to carry them that far.”
“You are right!” Anna feigned outrage and pretended she was going to throw my books down on the sidewalk. “How about we stop by my house, and I ask my mom to drive you the rest of the way? It’s just down the street,” she smiled sweetly.
I nodded. I’ve been told about “Stranger Danger” and not taking candy from strangers since I was little. However, I am so bashful that no one has ever offered. I felt like I should probably clear this with my mother. I was a bit of a rule-follower, and I didn’t want to get in trouble.
I’ve never been punished for anything by my parents, not even scolded. However, I also wanted to seem “cool” and aloof because I wanted Anna to like me. I told myself that my mom wouldn’t mind if I got a ride. I was, after all, in 10th grade.
Anna’s house was like any ordinary small house on the block. It was blue and made of cinder block, with a fenced-in backyard and lots of plants. “My mom is kind of a green thumb,” Anna shrugged.
“Oh, that’s cool,” I replied awkwardly. I found myself saying, “Oh, that’s cool,” to just about everything she said. I was so nervous that was the only reason I could muster.
“Hang on,” she warned me when we got to the door. I hung back, and she opened the door. I assumed she was asking her mother’s permission for me to come inside their house. She turned and invited me in.
I started to get apprehensive and cold-feet about accepting a ride from a stranger. I had known this girl at school for six weeks, but I didn’t know her mother. My anxiety came less from the thought my parents would be angry but more from the fear of meeting someone new.
“Who is your friend, Anna?” A bald woman came to the door and introduced herself as Anna’s mother. “Hi, I am Rachel!” Her mom was the tallest woman I’ve ever met! She had to be six foot two inches tall, at least! I’m not short - I’m as tall as my own mom, but I felt like a dwarf next to when the imposing woman opened the door. She wore a white shirt with stretchy gray yoga pants and sneakers.
But that wasn’t the only surprise. Just like her daughter, she was completely bald, and not only that, she casually wore an actual metal collar like slaves used to have back in the olden days. Well, not just like those. This was stainless steel, and there didn’t even seem to be a way of getting it off.
The collar didn’t quite look right to me with the shirt she wore. Rachel’s clothes seemed so mundane and normal, but the collar and bald head made her stand out like her daughter.
Rachel seemed to be waiting for me to freak out, run away, or come inside her house. I felt it was only polite to accept the invitation.
“This is Susan Peterson,” Anna introduced me to her mother. It was surreal to hear my full name spoken out loud. Anna’s house was like any ordinary, well-lived in house. However, there were still unpacked cardboard boxes that littered the living room as a clear sign they had recently moved in.
“Oh, the girl from your homeroom?” Rachel confirmed.
Anna blushed a little. I think she was embarrassed that I knew she must have spoken about me to her mother. I was beyond flattered that anyone KNEW my last name, much less talked about me to their parents. I couldn’t imagine what she had said about me. We had barely spoken in six weeks’ time.
“Can I get you something to drink? A snack?” Rachel asked me politely.
“Oh, no,” I didn’t want to intrude.
“Susan needs a ride home. Can you drive her?” Anna asked on my behalf.
“Sure, but I am waiting on your brother. I am sure he will be around in a minute,” Rachel smiled.
I had no idea that Anna had a brother. As I looked around the house, I saw very few family photos or signs of the family.
“I didn’t see Brodie on the way home, Mom. He’s probably hanging out with his new friends,” she said. “He can just use the spare key.”
“I told Brodie to walk you home!” Rachel appeared a little frustrated. “No, he can wait his narrow little behind outside until we get back. I am going to take the spare key to teach him a lesson on letting me know he’s going to stay out with his friends!”
Rachel took the key from under her welcome mat. “Now you know our super secret hiding place. We’ll have to knock you out and scramble your memory,” she joked. I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t used to adults joking with me like I was an adult.
I got the distinct impression that Anna’s mother was single. She had an old beat-up Toyota pickup truck with a stick shift. It needed a fresh coat of paint, and it had a funny bumper sticker on the back that read “I’m Horny, Not Desperate.”
Anna helped me load my books into it and sat in the middle seat next to her mother. 80s pop music was on the radio when it started up – so much for my theory. that this mother and daughter pair were into punk rock.
“We don’t get many visitors,” Rachel seemed pleased that I was brave enough to stop by.
“Sorry about that,” I said.
“Why do you apologize for something outside of your control?” Rachel asked. She had the same fun, mischievous glitter in her eyes that her daughter did. She also seemed wise and centered – calm.
“I just meant people can be judgmental and afraid of things they do not understand.”
Rachel turned and looked at her daughter. I got the distinct impression that Rachel was asking her daughter non-verbally what she had told me.
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