Chapter 12

It was about a week before Roger and I got everything arranged for us to get together at his house after school. The plan was for me to come over to his house in the afternoon after his father went to work. At that time, his Dad had to be at work at 4 p.m., so Roger would be alone for about 2 hours before his aunt would come by around 6:15, after the library closed. After school, Roger usually went to the library where his aunt worked and did his homework. When the library closed she would bring him home and start dinner. They had started with this routine many years before, and even though he was now 13, they were still doing it. Roger looked a lot younger than 13, and everybody, including me, treated him like he was younger.

In order to have an excuse to go straight home from school, Roger made up some "school" project involving building a wooden model. He told his Dad he couldn't get it finished on time unless he worked on it at home after school. He called me the night before to work out the details of getting to his house from the library. If his father's car or his aunt's car was in the driveway, I was supposed to just keep walking around the block until they left. Considering the extra time it would take me to get there, and the time I would have to leave to get home by my curfew, we would have less than two hours alone in his house.

On the chosen day, my car pool dropped me off after school at the library as usual, and I started walking to Rogers's house. Today, I was feeling more anxious than I did if I was just meeting Roger at the park. I was wearing my school uniform, as always, which I thought was about as un-sexy as clothing could be. I had initially considered changing clothes, but there really wasn't any place to do that. Besides, the whole point of going to Roger's house was to have a private place for to get naked and get off. For some reason, my degree of anxiety increased the closer I got to Roger's house.

When I got to his address I found that it was an older style brick house with a driveway on the side leading to a rear garage. As instructed, I did not go to the front door, but walked down the driveway to the back door in the garage. Roger opened the door before I was able to knock, and greeted me with a nervous smile. I stepped inside and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. We were in the kitchen, which was small, but had a sort of breakfast nook with benches. Roger took my hand and walked me through the small house, chattering away while giving me a quick tour. He was wearing a striped t-shirt, blue jeans, and black sneakers. Somehow, he looked and acted even more like a kid than when we were in the park. Eventually, we got to his bedroom.

You can tell a lot about a person from their bedroom, and I slowly walked around looking at his stuff. I could smell wet paint and the odor of glue. There was a single bed against the wall with a brown plaid bedspread, but what caught my eye was that every flat surface had a model of some kind on it: model ships, airplanes, tanks, spaceships, cars, even monsters. There were airplane models hanging on string from the ceiling. Most of the models were the plastic kind, but some were wood or metal. All of them were very carefully painted or had realistic looking decals on them. He had a worktable that was covered with pieces of wood, tools, glue, and little bottles of paint. As I looked around his room, Roger stopped chattering and just stood quietly in the doorway. The house was so quiet I could hear a clock ticking somewhere down the hall.

It was time for action, and we didn't have very much time. Before I got there I had gone through all sorts of fantasies in my head about stripping and walking around the house naked, or having Roger undress me, but when the moment came, I just did the same thing I had been doing in the park. I kicked off my loafers, reached under my skirt, pulled down my panties and kicked them off to the floor. I sat down on Rodger's bed, pulled my skirt up under my butt, and lay back, letting my legs hang off the edge of the bed.

From the beginning of my sexual relationship with Roger, there had been two clear themes. My priority was to have a good orgasm, and Roger was a means to that end. His priority was to learn about girls and sex, which were a total mystery to him, and doing me was a means to that end. I had never directly given him any sexual satisfaction. We did not really have a romantic relationship, but he was respectful of me. When I exposed myself to Roger, it was like I was giving him a great gift, and he was determined to express his gratitude. As I lay back on his bed, Roger knew what he was supposed to do, and without saying a word, he walked over and sat beside me.

As I had taught him to do, Roger began stroking the inside of my thighs with his fingertips, as I began a slow massage of the area around my clitoris. It didn't take too long for me to get warm and moist, so we began the second act of the little drama, with Roger taking over the massage of my mound. As he gently rubbed me, I unbuttoned my blouse completely, and pushed my bra up and over my breasts so that I could give my nipples some attention. This was the first time Roger had seen my breasts (or any girl's, for that matter) and it distracted his attention enough that I had to tell him to stay focused on my clit. Roger began rubbing me the way I had shown him, with alternating attention to my clit and labia, and occasionally sticking his fingers inside me for more lubrication. I began getting pretty hot, and was thrusting my hips against his hand as I massaged my breasts. I didn't have to give him much in the way of instruction, as we had done this enough times before that he could tell what I liked and didn't like.