Chapter 5

I was in my English class and Miss Hulbertson was passing out the papers we'd written as homework the first day of school, commenting on what she liked about some and what needed to be improved with others. She already knew each person by name and could tell each one something specific about his or her paper. She had only one paper left when she came over to me.

"Oh, Mark, I can't tell you how impressed I was with your paper about the Empire State Building. You made it seem so real, so tall, so firm, so powerful. So much like your schlong. I can't stand it anymore. Please let me see it."

She put the paper on my desk and I saw the A+++ on it as she knelt next to me, swinging me around on my chair so that my legs were out in the aisle. I could see most of her breasts where the top four buttons of her blouse were undone. There was no bra to block the view, and I saw her proud nipples standing at attention, trying to push through the rest of the blouse as she leaned forward, unzipping my pants.

She undid the button above the now unzipped zipper and folded both flaps to the side. I must have forgotten to wear underpants because there I was, for her and all around to see, standing at attention, pointing at the ceiling. I heard all 25 people in the classroom go "Aaahhh," and looked up to see that they were all gathered in a half circle, watching her every move as if it was a lecture and they were going to be tested on it. A couple of the girls had their hands to their mouths; a couple applauded.

She lay one hand underneath it, pulling it away from my groin.

"It's so big, Mark. I can't hold it in just one hand."

She wrapped her second hand on the other side, then slowly moved both hands up and down, as one. It felt so good.

"I can't help it. I have to taste it."

Still holding it in two hands, she held it straight up and leaned over. I felt her warm breath as she got close, then saw her mouth open, wider than I could imagine, like a snake when it takes a whole egg in its mouth. I felt the warmth of her breath and then the warmth of her body heat as her mouth came over the end of my cock. I felt the liquid warmth of her tongue as it caressed the underside of the crown.

I came, my hips flailing spastically, jetting spurt after spurt of my juices. I felt them dripping on my lower stomach and groin. I opened my eyes, sat up and saw the tented blankets as the last two spurts shot into them.

I'd heard of wet dreams before but had never experienced one. It had seemed so real while it was happening. The concept of someone taking me in their mouth was completely new to me and most likely would have been repulsive if someone had suggested it. But it was so natural and so desirable in my dream. And, though I shot off before I got a chance to experience it in that dream, I knew just how it would feel to be in someone's mouth, and I wanted to experience that feeling for real.

Wednesday afternoon, I'd come home after my weird walk with Betsy Lou. I'd tried to figure out what was going on with her for about five minutes before my head started hurting and I gave up.

It was Mom's shopping day with Mrs. Fish, so I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating some Mr. Chips and sipping cola flavored Kool Aid while going over the day. Something had happened in gym class that I hadn't understood. I thought about it and remembered. Weinstein had said something. What was that word? Oh, yeah. Schlong.

I got my student dictionary and looked it up. I tried shlong, shclong and schlong, even chlong... No luck. Mom and Dad had a big dictionary in the bookcase in the living room. The thing was about 4" thick and weighed a ton. I was able to find schlong. It was a Yiddish word and it was slang for a male sexual organ. That didn't do me a whole lot of good. I thought Weinstein was Jewish and I knew they spoke Yiddish, so I knew I was on the right trail.

Organ threw me a couple of curves. I ruled out the musical instrument right away, but got stuck on a bunch of medical terms before I figured that they were talking about stomachs, lungs, kidneys and stuff like that. They didn't seem to be what I was looking for.

Of course, they couldn't come right out and say they were talking about stomachs and all the other stuff. No, they used medical terms, and Latin words, and I had to look up about 5 or 6 words before I figured out that's what they meant. I wasn't positive, so I looked up stomach and lung and organ was in both definitions.

Sexual threw me for some more loops until I saw Sexual Organ in bold black letters near the end of the definitions. And they couldn't say what the hell they were talking about there, either. Something about mucous membranes.

It finally sent me to penis. I knew what that was. There were a bunch of slang terms near the end of that definition, and there it was, plain as day — schlong. Why the heck couldn't they just come out and say it was a dick?

By the time I'd finished my research project, it was time for dinner. Mom asked how things were going with Betsy Lou and I told her she'd been acting weird and explained some of the things she'd done over the past couple of days. She wiped her mouth with her napkin a lot more than usual and seemed to be paying a lot of attention to her plate, keeping her head down. Dad choked on his water and started coughing once. All of a sudden, my parents were interested in Betsy Lou. I wondered why nobody had seemed to be that interested for the past five years.

Mom told me she wanted to start taking showers every day now that I was in junior high. When I told her I'd already showered in PE, she made me lift my arms and she sniffed under them and told me I was OK tonight, but if I did any running or played basketball or anything after I got home, that I was supposed to shower. She also gave me some deodorant she picked up for me at the store. It was this spray stuff and the cloud smelled worse than the sweat did in the first place. When I tried it, I decided it would be the last thing I'd do before I left the bathroom. The stuff was almost as bad as that hairspray that made me gag if I was near Mom when she used it.

I wondered if playing with myself would be enough activity to make a shower necessary and realized that I hadn't even thought about that this afternoon, passing up a golden opportunity to check out the Playboys with Mom at the store. Looking at the dictionary had seemed more important than looking at pictures of naked women. Actually, I hadn't even thought about relative importance since I didn't consider the Playboys once I got going on my search.

I watched a little TV and went to bed early. As I lay there, I took myself in hand as I usually do when I go to bed. After my experience with Nancy Jo, it lost a lot of its desirability. I didn't think I'd give it up, it just wasn't that important tonight. I fell asleep without doing anything and the next thing I knew, I had my experience with Miss Hulbertson. I was familiar with the term "religious experience." I don't think that's what they were thinking about but it sure fit the definition.

It was a little after 3 when I woke up, spurting all over myself. I cleaned up as best I could. It took some time for me to get back to sleep and it was a restless sleep, most of it spent dreaming about Nancy Jo, Miss Hulbertson, and for some reason, Betsy Lou, leaning into me and doing that weird fish thing. The last thing I remember before my alarm went off is Betsy Lou looking at me and saying "Hmmm."

Dad was sitting at the kitchen table when I came in for breakfast, dressed in his white shirt and tie, smelling faintly of Old Spice. He always got all ready for work except for the suit jacket then put that on just before he went out the door. He has this big ceramic mug that holds two normal cups of coffee. Mom makes his coffee in a small coffee pot that she puts on the stove and lets it bubble for five or ten minutes. It makes just enough to fill his mug.