Story 11 - Wednesday Izzy’s Dream Comes True

Every day God blesses and guides my actions to keep me on my life’s path. My family loves and supports me, my classmates love and support me, and Jennifer, my best friend, helps me navigate the world while I wait to fulfill my dream, my life’s goal, to marry a handsome, supportive, man and have many children. Four years away, maybe three, if God wills it.

The walk through the brown halls, with dark blue lockers, reminds me of the need to stay patient and calm. The old lady stops me. She appears at our school to give great talks about our role in the world.

I forgot her name, Mrs. Something, it doesn’t matter, but she has an important position in our school. Her talk about finding the right kind of man to marry sent me on the path to my dream.

“Excuse me, young lady, I need to talk to you,” she steps closer and her old lady odor of lavender and rose overwhelms me. Her bright red lips frown while she stares at my forehead. I want to rush away but stay out of politeness and serenity.

“Your teacher leads you onto the road to hell!”

“I knew it. Mrs. Waters’s math lessons are too hard for us,” I nod, “Maybe you can stop the impossible math. I don’t need math. No wife needs math.”

“They overruled me on the committee. Health class will lead you to ruin.”

“Health class, but it was getting good,” I say in confusion. I’ve learned more in the last three classes than the rest of the year combined.

She steps closer, her blue hair at my eye level, while her gaze falls to my chin. While she appears non-threatening in her bright white with yellow and blue flower dress and matching shawl, holding a brown leather purse in front of her, I involuntarily step back before I force myself to step forward.

‘She is wise. You need to listen when she speaks,’ Daddy’s words echo in my mind.

She shakes her finger inches from my nose, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

I nod. I know that. Everyone knows that.

Her bright cheeks smile before she turns and clacks down the hall.

I love our kind health teacher, but what if she leads me away from the righteous path? She called Bobby human, while Daddy called him a dog, which confused me. Daddy, a man, knows more than Ms. Barret, so I trust him more. And because animals cannot get a woman pregnant, that means I can practice sex with Bobby. I need a husband like Daddy to help me sort everything out. Maybe I need to stop practicing with Bobby and find one. I discovered that I could legally get married at my age. I don’t want to wait till I finish high school like Mommy wants. But I don’t know, my head spins as I walk to class.

As usual, I arrive first, so I choose my favorite seat at the back and middle.

Sarah enters, chin down, eyes up, in a flush of half smiles. She needs a strong man to tell her what to do. Martha follows close behind, her gaze following Sarah’s ass. She needs a man to get her off the lesbian path and back on God’s path.

Vivian slips in, chin up, eyes down, hands in front of her body. She needs an intelligent man to guide her and tell her what to do.

I stare at the picture of Jesus. I want my husband to have stylish short hair and no beard, although a mustache might look ok. However, I will take whatever God provides.

Ms. Barrett asks the class to write down a question. I love this new question format. Do I ask if I should stay in school or find a husband? School or husband? School has no use other than to pass the time waiting for a husband. However, do men like stupid women? Vivian can barely spell her name, and men always ask for her help. So, school likely doesn’t matter. But Mom wants me to stay and Dad has not said anything. I need to ask.

Ms. Barrett will know what to do. After all, she stayed in school and doesn’t have a husband. I bet she regrets her choice. But how do I ask it? A person can get married and attend school, so I need to know which to prioritize. I like school, though not math, and all my friends go here. I can’t ask, ‘Marriage or School?’ No, that makes no sense. Ms. Barrett will say both.

“Is everyone almost finished?” Ms. Barrett asks the class.

Oh no, I need a question. What had I decided? Right, the importance of marriage. No, I know that answer. I need to know if I should search for a husband now or wait.

“Times up.”

I write, ‘Should I find a husband?’

I sit patiently for Ms. Barrett’s great advice and information.

“We have some interesting questions today. Is sex with Jesus wrong?”

Girls giggle, but what a great question.

“If you had sex with Jesus, he wouldn’t be the Son of God, but because he is the Son of God, he wouldn’t have sex with you.” Lame answer, but it makes sense.

“Is sex in Hell the best sex? I don’t think that there is sex in Hell. Torture and evil things await those in hell.” Also lame, but good to know.

Ms. Barrett pauses over the next question.

“If a male inserts his fingers and there is sperm on his fingers, can you get pregnant? While, in theory, sperm can live for fifteen to thirty minutes outside the body, the chances of you getting pregnant are remote. Do not let anyone but your husband put their fingers inside you.” Only husband. Check.

“If you eat too much cum, will you get pregnant? No.”

Sarah’s hand shoots up.

“Yes, Sarah.”

“Miss, whenever I eat corn, I poo it out the next day.”

“The stomach does not connect with the vagina and sperm cannot live long enough to survive the trip even if it did.” So, I need to drink the sperm if I don’t want to get pregnant. Check.

“Is it ok to touch yourself when you secretly watch your brother masturbate? No, that is a sin.”

Brunette Isabella shoots her hand up.

“Hand down, Isabella. It is a sin to masturbate and to watch your brother perform a sin.” So, if I accidentally masturbate and do not watch, only peek, I will not sin. Check.

“After rubbing too long, my clit hurts. Its proper name is Glans clitoris. What can I do to make it feel better?” Ms. Barrett pauses.

Vivian raises her hand.

“Hand down, Vivian. The Glans Clitoris is the nub at the top of your vagina. I don’t think there is anything you can do. Maybe try ice or something to numb the area.” Wow, a great idea.

“Can cats see demons? I have no idea. Cats are strange, so maybe. Ask the priest.”

“How do I get a carrot out of my butt?”

The whole class erupts in laughter, except Jennifer.

Ms. Barrett smiles at the joke. “Maybe get a friend or go to the hospital. Do not put a carrot in your ass.”

Girls slowly stop laughing and talking with excitement.

“Will getting an abortion make me a virgin again? No.” Damn, I wanted to do that with my future husband. I have read men like virgins, so I hoped to allow my future husband to take my virginity multiple times. What will I have to do now?

“If you sleep with a girl, can I get her pregnant? Will I get pregnant? No, and No.” Check. That means Jennifer could join my husband and me without worrying about her accidentally giving me a baby.

“How do you speed up pregnancy? You can’t.” Oh, that sucks. I will have to get pregnant soon if I want to have kids while I still have the youth to enjoy them.

“Can a boy use Saran Wrap as a condom? No. Abstinence is the safest and only sure way of not getting pregnant.”

“If semen is sugar and protein, why does it taste so salty? How many calories does it have?” Oh, awesome question, and something I need to know when I restrict my diet to stay thin during pregnancy.

“I wondered about this, so I researched it. Five to twenty-five calories, depending on the amount.”

Ms. Barrett blushes and walks to the window and then back to the front of the room - heels clicking.

“Why are balls wrinkly? The male scrotum moves closer to the body when it’s cold, so the skin wrinkles.”

“You can’t get pregnant if you are standing because sperm can’t swim against gravity? Yes, you can.” Damn, I hoped to use that.

“How do boys put the bone in their penis when they want it to get hard? Does it fit through the pee hole, or do they have a special place like the bum?” Wow, a great question. I planned to ask my future husband how he did it, now, I will know and can help.

“They do not put a bone in their penis. That is a term for penis because it gets hard like a bone. Blood fills the penis and makes it hard. It’s fascinating that some males can grow one and a half to six times their soft size.” Wow, I hope my future husband doesn’t grow six times his soft size, although, I hope he has a penis bigger than Bobby’s.

Finally, Ms. Barrett answers my question. “Marriage is the most important act between a male and a female. It is sacred and the most important decision you will ever make.”

That makes sense. My future husband will live with me for the rest of my life. We will have four kids together and live in a huge house.

“Should you find a husband? Yes, of course, that’s how it works.”

Excellent, now I need to find a husband. Mom will understand because we will get closer after I have my first set of twins, pretty blonde girls. She can give me sage advice as the grandma. Grandma always said she should have skipped the kids and went straight to grandkids. And Dad will get to teach the twin boys to fish and hunt. They won’t act like Bobby, they will like to do manly things.

Ok, plan set. I will begin searching today.

He must stand taller than me and have smarts like Daddy. He needs to have lots of money.

I don’t want a boy my age, like the ones that give me their phone numbers all the time, too immature and they don’t have good jobs. I don’t want a divorced man, because their wife rejected them for sucking as a husband. I want a good husband, someone married but unhappy.

“OK class, time for our worksheet,” Ms. Barrett places the question sheets on her desk and picks up another stack of papers.

In math class, I ask Jennifer about her mom and handsome dad. Jennifer knows everything when it comes to people. She can always tell what they think and what they want.

“I wish I had a new mom. Mom spends all her time working and doesn’t like Dad anymore. She likes the neighbor but hasn’t had sex with him yet. Dad needs someone who will love him. He likes you more than Ms. Barrett. You like him.”

She solves the math equation on the board and I copy her answer.

“I should marry your dad?” I ask.

I would enjoy having my best friend, Jennifer, as my daughter. She can help me raise the two sets of twins.

“He would have sex with you. You would have sex with him. I would like you as my second Mom.”

“Mmm,” I have practiced with Bobby, so I know what to do to get a husband horny, and I want to finally have sex with my husband or future husband. Excitement travels up and down my body, just the idea of sleeping with Jennifer’s dad has my vagina tingling and my breasts itchy.

“Mrs. Waters has begun an affair with Mr. Ryan.”

Jennifer answers another question and angles her sheet so I can copy the answer.

“Interesting. Can I sleep over tonight?”

I can increase my grade if I threaten Mrs. Waters. No, I won’t sin like that, besides, I don’t need math as a housewife, so my math grade doesn’t matter.

“Yes. Dad will say yes. And Mom will be working late tonight. She brought two wraps for lunch today,” Jennifer let me copy the remaining answers.

Good, now how do I seduce her dad? “What’s your dad’s favorite color?”

Jennifer gazes around the classroom and studies the other girls. “Orange.”

Oh no, I do not have any orange underwear. Do I have time to buy some? “What’s his second favorite color?” I hope I have at least that color.

“Red, but he likes orange a lot more. Mary is making more money since the principal started helping her.”

“Let’s go shopping after school. I need to get some new underwear.”

“Ok. Amara has gained confidence.”

I spend the rest of class thinking of pick-up lines and excuses to get her dad in bed.

My favorite - ‘‘Do you know how I like my eggs?’ I will ask. When he shrugs his shoulders, I will respond, ‘Fertilized’. I love how funny but true the line sounds.

How do I get him into bed with me? Maybe I can wait for him to go to bed and pretend I accidentally crawled into his bed instead of Jennifer’s. Yes, that will work because if his wife catches me, I did it by accident, and his penis accidentally slipped in while we slept. Further, you can’t sin by accidentally having sex.

Now, I need sexy orange underwear.

As soon as school ends, Jennifer and I hop in my BMW and go to the mall. Teenagers hang and pose, while I practice my flirting by smiling at the few handsome guys.

Our Catholic school outfits draw a crowd—Jennifer with her thin, almost anorexic, body and black hair cascading down to her skirt. And me, much curvier, with expertly styled blonde hair.

Our favorite cosmetic place has a sale on. A sign from God that tonight I will seduce Jennifer’s dad. A large purchase later, at ten percent off, and a complimentary makeup consult, we exit. Men, and boys, leer at us, always a good sign.

We go to a few lingerie stores but don’t find anything good. I despair until we discover a new place tucked in the corner that only sells bra and pantie sets. Their gimmick guarantees a perfect bra fit. The sales lady knows her stuff and they have a great color selection.

“What do you think?” I ask the saleslady while Jennifer reads on her phone.

“That color is too pale for your skin. You need a darker orange,” Jennifer continues to pretend to read her phone.

“The saleslady thinks you’re hot. She likes your youthful body,” Jennifer comments while flicking her finger across her phone screen. The saleslady blushes, and I nod. I have grown used to this. Jennifer reads everyone, but she has no imagination. The saleslady, now bright red, brings me three different bras and two panties to try on.

I like crotchless panties, my meaty vagina pokes through, and dangles down, under my school skirt. The slightest movement billows the fabric and if a person peeks at the right angle, they will view my big lips accented by the panties. The saleslady grows brighter red when I show them to her.

The two push-up bras, one lace, the other a half cup, give me great cleavage. The third, nippleless, I love as it shows my large nipples, erect and tenting my white shirt, with the dark areola visible threw the bright thin material. However, the nippleless bra and the crotchless panties made me feel too much like a slut and not enough like a potential wife. Instead, I chose the fancier lacy one.

“Do you think an older man will like this?” I ask the saleslady.

“How much older?” she pauses and stares at my schoolgirl clothing. I spin to show off my dangling lips for her judgment.

“Yes, it doesn’t matter the age, you look gorgeous,” Jennifer peeks up from her phone, “Dad will like your engorged labia and the lace against your pale breasts as much as the saleslady does.”

“Dad?” the saleslady’s gaze falls to the floor.

“Izzy will let you lick,” Jennifer says. My vagina needs licking and Jennifer doesn’t enjoy doing it anymore.

I grab the saleslady’s hand and pull her into the changing room. I pretend to fall on the bench where I artfully, and accidentally, spread my legs.

“I’m not sure,” the saleslady mumbles but pulls the curtain and stands staring at my red labia.

“It’s not a sin if it’s an accident.” She needs to accidentally fall to her knees and accidentally stick out her tongue while falling into me. I spread my butterfly lips to help her.

“No!” she rushes out of the changing room.

God must want me to save it for Jennifer’s dad. I get dressed and pay. We have extra time, so we get fries for dinner.

A group of four boys walk over. “Hey, you girls look good,” the lead boy says and slips into the empty seat beside Jennifer.

“You want to have sex with him, but he doesn’t want to,” Jennifer points first to the red-hatted kid and then the fuzzy-haired kid. Red hat stammers and sprints away. The fuzzy-haired boy turns and follows.

The lead guy laughs, and the long-haired, wanna grow a beard, boy sits beside me.

“Now we’re alone,” the leader leans over and touches Jennifer’s hand.

She stares at his hand and briefly glances up at his smooth face before glancing at me, “He masturbated three times today. Once in the school washroom.”

The leader’s mouth falls open and he stammers, “Fuck you!”

He tightens his grip, knuckles turning white while Jennifer grimaces, “You masturbated your cat yesterday.”

I spit out my teriyaki chicken, covering my half-eaten plate.

The leader’s eyes widen and he sprints away. The wannabe adult laughs, smacking his hand on the table.

“You masturbated to mom and son porn,” Jennifer says to him.

“Mom’s hot.”

He leans forward and gazes into Jennifer’s face. Jennifer meets his gaze.

“Right, better go get your friends,” I tell him.

He lifts Jennifer’s hand, brings it up to his mouth, and licks the back of her hand. She pulls the wet hand back, wiping it on her skirt.

“Later,” he says and saunters away.

“Ok, that was weird,” I mumble.

“Did he like me?” Jennifer’s mouth still hangs open.

“He left a card,” I hold it up and hand Jennifer a plain white business card with a QR code.

She glances at it and slips it into her Hello Kitty backpack.

We arrive at Jennifer’s empty house. I borrow a green, with a red elf, onesie to lounge around in, making sure to wear my new underwear. The soft fabric caresses my exposed vaginal lips, pushing my moisture around. Now I wish I had purchased the nippleless bra to allow the fabric to swish over naked nipples. I remove my bra and enjoy the fabric against my swinging breasts. Jennifer’s green with white, yellow, and bright green Christmas tree onesie matches mine.

We make popcorn and argue about which show to binge. Jennifer’s dad arrives home in the middle of our popcorn fight.

“Girls, seriously?” he stomps upstairs.

“Dad didn’t get the promotion and he noticed Mom’s car in the driveway.”

I follow him with my bare feet shaking with each step on their plush, speckled carpet.

“Dad likes shoulder rubs,” Jennifer calls. I wave at Jennifer but keep my one hand firmly on the railing, the stairs do not ascend correctly, some higher than others.

Jennifer’s dad sits on a king-sized, four-poster, bed, with his jacket and tie on the hardwood floor, and face in his hands, causing his body to make a question mark on the edge of the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask as I step into the room, clasping my hands to stop the trembling.

“Izzy, no, but, maybe,” he briefly glances up at me before returning to his hands. Other than the red marks from his fingertips, his strong face still appears stoic, with a well-trimmed beard and hazelnut eyes - soft, with a sad droop.

I move to sit on the bed but not too close. His radiating body heat warms me as I move closer.

“Jennifer’s Mom bought her that onesie for Christmas. I never liked the elf’s face on it,” he sits tall and twists to face me.

I tentatively pat his knee before clasping my hands over the elf’s face.

His gaze follows the motion, spending many breaths on the bumps on either side of the elf’s face, before peeking into my eyes. I keep my chin down but my eyes up.

“Jennifer, you’ve gotten popcorn everywhere,” Jennifer’s mom slams the front door.

I rush out of the room and straight to the washroom. I stare at my reflection, willing my heart to slow and my hands to stop trembling. Jennifer’s dad stomps in the hallway, footfalls barely muffled by the thick carpet.

“Do you know what time it is?” he yells at his wife.

I open the bathroom door to a heated loud conversation.

“Time for you to help around here,” he continues.

“Says the man who hasn’t even cleaned the kitchen table and has let his daughter make a huge mess.”

“Don’t you dare,” he shouts from the top of the stairs.

“You’re such...” she counters before slamming the front door. He turns and slams his bedroom door.

I sneak out of the washroom and tiptoe down the stairs to comfort Jennifer. She doesn’t appear upset, but I know underneath her mind spins in confusion. I wrap my arms around her.

“Lots of parents get divorced,” she comments.

“Yes. It’s not your fault,” I reflexively say before I can stop myself.

“Yes, it is. My condition has caused Dad and Mom to disagree and grow apart,” she doesn’t cry, but her body slumps deeper into my arms.

A girl screams in the zombie movie causing me to jump and Jennifer to cuddle tighter.

She stares at the screen, but her gaze darts to a picture of her mother.

One time, at her tenth birthday party, the other girls and I teased Jennifer about acting like a robot. She didn’t cry, just left the room. The other girls laughed, but something bothered me. I asked her dad why she didn’t have emotions. He said, “She has emotions like you. She isn’t good at showing them. Like how you can’t read people like she can. It’s kinda the same thing.”

That stuck with me and I repeat it each time I wonder if she has emotions.

“Your mom loves you,” I whisper.

“Yes. She can not live with me,” she says while her gaze remains steady on her mom’s picture.

“Don’t say that,” I speak before thinking.

“Why not? Dad learned to live with me. He learned to be honest with himself, while mom grew more dishonest with herself.”

A silly girl in the movie gets killed, scaring me, but Jennifer’s gaze stays on her mom’s photo. In the picture, her mother smiles with her hands on her extended belly. The yellow dress shines in the bright sunshine while the green trees and grass frame her.

“I will like having you as a stepmother. And when Mom admits she likes Mr. Robert, I will like him as a stepfather. He stopped visiting after I told him that he liked my mom. He has liked her since the first day they met and Mom has grown to love him, but she will not admit it to herself, or Dad, or Mr. Robert. She hates it when I tell her.”