Chapter 7: Sixteen Years Old

Her infatuation with the new world opened up to her by Karen carried Maryon through several months but, when the older girl's parents moved further out from the City, she lost touch. And somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to form another Lesbian attachment. It had been... an experience; something to be remembered and put at the back of her mind somewhere. Sapphism was, after all, only a middle course between masturbation and masterbation, or so it seemed to her. Nothing seemed to work completely for her, neither self, boys, or girls. Perhaps the fall, when she would be attending Glenville High, would bring fresher contacts, more mature possibilities... ?

But in her classmates at least, she was to be disappointed. Perhaps because she'd attended a nonpublic school hitherto, perhaps because of her natural inward-turning nature--whatever the reason, she found herself cut off from the mainstream of school activities and for her part regarded with some degree of contempt the somewhat unsophisticated attitudes of her peers.

Though she studied hard on her own, her results in tests were poor, and before the semester was over she was marked as bottom of her class. So it was that on a bleak, overcast December afternoon she found herself reporting to the small private office of Mister Hugh Jenner, her Room- and History-Teacher. 'Old Gelid Jenner' they called him behind his back, more from alliteration than accuracy. He was a short, balding man in his early forties, with disappointed eyes behind his rimless glasses and a tag of beard on his chin. His temper knew only two moods... sarcastic, biting humor and long-suffering, patronizing forbearance. As she stood outside his door in her newly-bought, latest-fashionable boots and brown imitation leather micro-mini-skirt, with sleeveless fringed vest to match over a bright yellow turtle-necked sweater, with her books in their strap under one arm, Maryon brushed the fall of blonde hair which she was letting grow again back off her forehead, tired after the day's studies, and wondered which of the two moods he would be in. Maybe, now that school was out and no noisy sounds ringing through the empty corridors, Jenner would be calmer, more human. She hoped so. She was in no mood herself to be upset by some trivial point, and delayed from getting home to a warm house and a hot meal. With a quick look around to see that the place was deserted, she put the books down and ran both hands quickly, strongly up her legs to smooth into place her warm pantyhose.

Bending over thus, she was surprised when Jenner's throaty voice behind her said: "Hhhrrhhmm! Miss Swelt, is it? Come in, come in."

He must have opened the door without making a noise, the quiet creep, she thought, a flush mantling her cheeks as she realized that her short skirt, hiked higher as she'd bent over, must have afforded him an excellent view of her sleek upper thighs. At least! If such views interested him, that is! She trotted dutifully behind him in her high-heeled brown boots and sat in the chair he indicated, alongside his desk. He finished straightening out some papers that lay on it, then looked at her.

"Um... Maryon, is it? Yes... well... uh, Maryon, we don't seem to be making very good progress our first semester, do we?"

Followed, to her boredom, by a recital of her marks, her attitudes as reported by her other teachers, and the areas in which she might hope to make an improvement. She let the words run past her ears, not in the least way interested, until suddenly she realized that he was interested--but in her figure rather than her marks, for he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the knee of her swinging crossed-over leg or the bulge of her sweater-bound breasts as, when she shifted herself uneasily, they brushed aside the narrow lengths of her loose-hanging vest. Mentally she sat up and began taking notes. She knew she was smart, and didn't much care either for the rigid system of scholastic scorekeeping or the supposed value of it once she quit school and applied herself to a career. But... But! But if she could get herself upgraded through Mr. Hugh Jenner without too much degrading of herself then... why she'd make a little bit of effort to win his commendations. With, she hoped, pleasure! She waited until he'd finished then leaned forward, putting a forlorn look on her face and bridling her breasts so that they hung enticingly out from her. "But I do try, Mister Jenner... I really do. I'm not stupid, it's just that I don't seem to do too well in the tests. I know that I know all that stuff."

"Well, I think you do too, Maryon," said Jenner, the eyes behind his glasses still riveted on her heavy-breathing bust. "I think that you're a smart girl, from what I've seen of you. And I think it's a pity that it's the test marks that count."

"Oh, you do, Mister Jenner!?" said Maryon, sitting up straight and uncrossing her legs. "Well then, perhaps I can come to some arrangement with you. That is, if you really think that the test marks don't do me justice." She had determined on a bold course of action.

"Why, er, yes. I really think that in your case your knowledge, generally, surpasses that of most of the students, and that the system of testing shows you to unfair advantage."

"Then I propose a bargain with you, Mister Jenner," said Maryon, getting up. "Just wait a moment, please." She walked to the door, keeping her thighs close together so that her ass-action would be enhanced beneath the brief brown-leather skirt. Puzzlement was on his face, mixed with a modicum of consternation, as she returned to the desk, pulled the chair nearer to him, and sat down. She leaned an elbow on the corner and regarded him intently from out her big blue eyes. "Mister Jenner," she said, after a moment, "in your history lessons you've rapped a lot about the way the world is run. Sometimes the people want to take some power from the King or whoever's running things. Sometimes a country wants to rip off another so's to get something the others have and they don't. Lots of times more advanced countries would take over a defenseless one and make it a colony, so's they could get markets for their goods. Now, in your lessons you've made a point of saying that in all these kinds of cases it would've been much simpler if, instead of quarreling and going to war about it, people would've just sat down and discussed things, making a trade of what they wanted against what they could get. Like the people give the King the money he needs, and make him a guarantee, and in return they get some power for themselves. Or, two countries get together and set a fair price for whatever the second one has that the first one wants. And the same thing goes with the colony bit, the big country gives the colony-one some help to get on its feet, and in return they get concessions, or whatever, for oil or gold... the things they wanted to invade 'em for. Right? Bargaining is better, right? If two countries, or two people, sit down long enough they'll each find that the other has something they want, even though the thing they are giving doesn't mean that much to them. Maybe that's not too clear. What I'm trying to say is that well... say that in Vietnam they need an industry to bring money in, and give 'em employment and like that, and they decide electronics would be a good thing for them, like it is in Japan, huh? And we, America, want to get them to go along with, uh, the American Way... you know, our kind of Democracy. So, instead of getting into a war about it, we send them a few thousand electronic experts--you know, we've got a lot of 'em out of work, now--and the Government, our Government, pays them a good salary. Well, y'see... the men we send would be happy with the American Way because they're getting paid good by the Government, and so without being taught about propaganda and all that they'll just naturally be good, uh, spokesmen? And the Vietnamese are getting what they want, without a lot of official crap being laid down on 'em? And we save money 'cause we don't have all those soldiers to pay and bullets to throw away, and they save money 'cause they don't have to sell themselves to get the aid, or pay for the education of thousands of engineer students in other countries? Seems to me they both get something for nothing--whatever Mister Griswold in Physics says about the conservation of matter and energy and all that-and they get it because what they give is also a benefit to them. Right?"

Jenner was confused, obviously. But he thought for a moment, then said: "Well, Maryon, it's not quite so simple as that, of course. And I doubt that Roger would quite go along with your Physics' theory. But, yes, there is something in what you say. People should be able to exchange things, and bargain for what they want without losing pride or getting into a fight over it."

"Right on!" said Maryon, taking a deep breath. It was now or never. Perhaps after all she could make use of her rather special background. She reached forward and took his left hand as it lay beside her and, as she spoke, placed it on the warmth of her round, pantyhosed knee. "Mister Jenner, I want to get better marks and I want to try some sex with an older man. You, I kinda reckon, wouldn't mind getting it in me, if you could get away with it, and you wouldn't really think it'd be cheating to give me the marks you think I deserve. What about an exchange? Is it a bargain?"

Her blue eyes flashed and sparkled as she spoke, and she fought hard to keep the color out of her cheeks. It was the first time in her life she'd been so outspoken, and really put it on the line, to herself or anyone. Jenner in his turn went pale and pink and pale again. He swallowed hard.

"You mean... you mean, Miss Swe... Maryon, that you want me to-to-" he broke off in confusion. On her knee his fingers tightened.

Maryon let herself smile intimately at him, comradely, with the suspicion of a wink. She remembered the tales of his wife that were told around the school... her dried-up sexual charge being devoted to good works and social responsibility. A childless couple, Maryon bet that it was mainly because of the woman's hang-ups. Bet also that the poor man had never had it but in the modern-conventional, strictly head-to-head, face-to-face, male-uppermost style. By the wrist she slid his hand over her knee and pushed it between her crossed lower thighs, trapping it. "You know what I mean," she said. "I'll trade my body--and eagerly, too, not like a ten-minute trickster--for your influence. Mark me higher, and do your best to get some of the other teachers to do the same, but not so's you'll screw things up, naturally. Here... I'll give you a quick sample and, whatever happens after, I'll expect at least a B on my next History paper. And don't worry about any thing, I've been on the Pill for months. See, how about this... ?"

Maryon had already felt his hand growing hotter through the thin nylon and had observed, with secret amusement, how the front of his pants bulged where his gray suit jacket fell back from him. Moving herself a couple of inches forward and leaning at the same time, she made sure that his fingers were comfortably, comfortingly, snugged in the hot hidden haven of her crotch. With her own left hand she reached over the comer of the desk and spun his swivel chair a quarter to his left so that he directly faced her, then walked her slender fingers up his tight-clad gray thigh until she could flick the swelling growth at the base of his belly. She swiftly unzipped him, and, after a moment or two of struggling with the slit of his Jockey shorts, managed to grip his prick and pull it out. She was inwardly delighted at its size and length. He was uncircumcised and his thin foreskin was red with a satin sheen. As she touched him there, appraisingly running a long-nailed finger down its underside and noting with approval its powerful jerk, she felt his fingers stir on her thigh, spreading to span the warm sector of nyloned flesh. His unaccustomed hard- on through his shorts made the rubbery pink-and-white sausage lean over toward the right, and when she grasped it firmly and set it straight, she felt him wince.

"Oh... that hurt you, didn't it?" she said in a soft and sympathetic voice. "Maryon'll fix that for you."

Before he could think to protest--her mind was set on overcoming him with surprise and speed so that it would later be too late to change his mind--she stood up, feeling with mounting excitement the jab of his unexpecting fingers as they were driven momentarily against her pliable young pubic hummock... slid his hand down between her close nylon thighs beneath the upridden skirt, then stepped over his sprawling legs and sat on his right knee, putting her left arm about his neck to hold herself in place. Putting his left hand again on her thigh she took hold of his prick with her right, then leaned in to kiss his astonished lips. At first he seemed to resist, but soon his right arm came about her waist and he responded, quickly opening his mouth as his nubile young instructress nimbly attacked his teeth with her tongue, demanding obvious entrance.

At the same time she ran her circled fingers down his broad length until they reached the cloth of his pants, then slid them in and underneath the material, forcing it back until she could grope through the slit of the shorts and, finally, grasp his warm and fleshy balls, using her slim wrist as a shoehorn to give him an easier purchase for his climbing cock's convenience. A groan went through him as she clutched his cocciferous cockles and gently squeezed, but he abandoned his mouth to her roving tongue and his left hand dragged higher beneath her skirt. She wriggled her butt provocatively on his leg, continuing her squeezing tactic until she felt he was near ready, then slid off and down to the floor between his legs. On this first occasion she wasn't too concerned about her own pleasuring--that could wait for all the other times she now knew were to come her way--but to give him something to do she took both his unresisting hands and, not without a lot of difficulty and squirming about, allowed him to slide them down underneath the tight neck of her sweater and so, beneath her bra, onto her breasts. It was not very comfortable and the blood mounted to her face as she half-strangled, but she didn't expect to be long in this position. Jenner's bent-forward attitude hindered her head movements, too, but she drew in a great breath and, without delay, put her mouth over the end of his prick.

At the back of her mind was the thought that this was the first male she'd ever operated on who was possessed of a regular foreskin, and it pleased her, in a quiet way, that there was something else about his cock, apart from its sheer size in that department, to intrigue her. But she didn't want to spend too much time on this occasion in rapturous investigation. In all of her sexual adventures, this one was to be entirely a job of work.

She began to move her soft red lips slithering from side to side about the outer covering of him, at the same time reaching out with her teeth until she could grip him just around the distended slot which her inquisitive tongue had found for her. She now drove her tongue into that slot, narrowing its point and probing as if she were putting a finger into a glove, feeling him give quick little jerks against her right hand. Encouragingly she squeezed his balls delicately with her left. She let the air come whistling in through the sides of her mouth about him and sucked juicily through her own saliva so that the sound would further stimulate him to quick action. Feeling the veins along the length of his cock beginning to stand out from its rubbery flesh, she kept her dainty white teeth close to the dome and pushed her head down, so that the loose skin of his cock-hood rode up against them and was pushed down from the slick surface beneath as neatly as a peeled banana. A riper, more cheesier taste crept into her mouth, a little over-strong, but gamely she pressed on, letting her long tongue lick and lave about his flesh so that the end of his prick floated around her mouth against the restraining guards of her teeth, propelled by the flat of her twisting little taster. In the cup of her left palm she felt his testicles harden and begin to draw themselves up from the bottom of his pouch and so, opening her jaws to their widest extent, she dropped her head downward until she could palpitate her throat muscles about his naked cock- head.

Under the confines of her bra and sweater, Jenner's hands clutched at her breasts as though he were trying to hold a half- dozen of eggs in each, but so much was this an intellectual exercise with Maryon that her nipples were hardly stirred by his clumsy endeavors.

She started to gulp and chew at him, pulling in her cheeks, grinding her lower jaw-bone, using the whole mechanism of her mouth on him like a horse in a hay-bag, using the suction of her strangled throat to draw him off. After a few seconds of hold- back during which she could sense his conscious mind trying to will him not to impregnate the fresh-faced flush-cheeked golden head buried in his belly like a sophomore succubus, his gray- suited ass sank a little lower in his chair and his rampant cock blew off in her as strong as a sounding whale. A thick and viscous scalding stream broke its force fiercely at the back of her throat and she silently gasped and gulped as he involuntarily snatched one hand from her trapped tit and spanned the top of her head so that she was forced to further engulf his dick and swallow his long-pent load. His prick strained and locked and surgingly swelled in the sudden, shock-shriven salivalessness of her mouth and the steady, relentless pumping of his semen-shed stones pulsated between her hand and her chin.