Chapter 2

Angie was more than presentable and more than nice. She was a freshman, just a year younger than me; and I knew some things about her. She was pretty, and had a nice, compact body. There are two exceptions to that. She had, or had had, a skin condition that left the lower parts of her cheeks looking rough. There's no difference in the color of the skin; you have to be pretty close to see it. I knew that bothered her, but she was still pretty and I was determined to show her that it didn't bother me at all. The other exception was that she had a really small waist. Her hips probably qualified as slender but they curved out dramatically from her waist. No guy at school was immune to her in a pair of tailored slacks.

And we had all night; I would actually get to sleep with her. One or more times during the night I would get to wake up with an armful of Angie, with my hand resting on the dramatic curve of her hip. I whine about some parts of my job, and I have some steadily growing emotional problems; but the part starting when a girl gets comfortable is fantastic.

But what's wrong with this picture? I'm fifteen, Angie's fourteen, and we have all night. You'd think that there must be a whole lot of lying going on. Maybe there is but I have no idea who's telling what lies to whom. I have a strong suspicion that there isn't all that much lying.

I was recruited when I was thirteen. Actually I got trained for a while without knowing it, then I got recruited; and then I got trained some more. They put me to work slowly and the first several assignments were curfew jobs, the girl had to be home by eleven or midnight or one. Then I got my first all-nighter.

During the school year I get my assignments on Wednesdays. They'll tell me earlier if I won't have anybody, but Wednesday is when they'll tell me who and where and when. I knew by then that there was something out there that I was thinking of as the PtB, so when the Emissary gave me my assignment and told me that we'd have all night and that I could count on being home by noon, I stifled the urge to ask sarcastically how I was supposed to handle that with my parents. I asked it politely.

"It's all handled. Just ask your parents tonight if it's okay if you stay overnight at the party Friday and they'll say 'yes.' Don't agonize about this, don't embellish it, don't wait until you can ask them together; just ask the first one you see." She smiled at me reassuringly.

Early in my training my parents extended my weekend curfew from midnight to two. I thought that was pretty generous and I thought the timing was pretty convenient. I had a lot on my mind and was not the suspicious person I am today.

I can't ask my parents what they know. It would open the whole topic.

Angie led me into the bedroom. I used my free hand to close and lock the door. I smiled at her. "Hi again."

She smiled back but it was a more nervous smile. She didn't say anything. She tightened her grip on my hand.

I wasn't alarmed; this wasn't unusual. She was a little frozen. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. I'd gotten that small emotional release in the rec-room so I knew we'd be okay. "Is there any chance that we could continue that hug?"

Her smile brightened and she stepped in to me. I wrapped one arm around her shoulders and used the other to stroke her back. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and inhaled the aroma of shampoo and fresh girl. I could feel her slowly relaxing. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm a little nervous."

"Well, as long as it's only a little..."

She laughed softly.

"Oh, that felt nice. Maybe we should stay like this for a while and I'll try to think of funny things to say." Actually, vertical wasn't a good position for us. I was too much taller for us to comfortably kiss and my hard-on was pressed firmly against her abdomen extending up onto her breastbone. That had to feel threatening.

Her head was sideways against my chest. Mine was still bent forward. She didn't have to bend her neck too far for our eyes to meet. "Johnny, you're being very nice to me. Thank you." She went up on her toes and kissed me softly.

I pulled my head back a little. "Angie, I want to be nice to you." I brought my hand around and up to her face. I pressed my fingers against her jaw next to her chin and stroked softly up over her cheek towards her ear. "I am very attracted to you." I slid my hand to the back of her neck and leaned down to return her kiss.

Angie had flinched slightly when I touched her face; but then she closed her eyes and seemed comfortable while I caressed across the damaged skin onto the fine, clear skin above. She opened her eyes again when my hand went behind her, and she leaned in for my kiss. The damaged skin felt textured, but was just as soft as the rest.

I really was, and had been, attracted to her; which meant that I wasn't supposed to be there, at least arguably It had been recommended that I decline girls that I knew well or had already been attracted to, to the point that I would like to date them. I completely rejected that and never declined any of those girls. I guess the concept is that if I declined them I could actually date them when I retired, and that they might be emotionally harder on me than other girls. Well fuck that! I never thought seriously about dating anyone other than girls I'd been with because I was too busy obsessing about not being able to date any of them. And I sometimes thought that I was too fucked-up to ever date anybody and have a relationship anyway.

And the idea that if I liked a girl I should let somebody else take care of her freaked me out.

Angie in slacks was special enough that she got talked about. I knew that she was bright, and cheerful, and sweet. I'd seen for myself that she had the perfect posture that short girls often have. She was an adorable little sweetheart (I said I'd never stick "Little" in front of her name, I'm not going to pretend she isn't short). I'd classified her as attractive and appealing. I never thought about dating her until an Emissary presented her name. I think I knew that she was shy about boys but I learned from the Emissary that she was very shy in that regard, and consequently very inexperienced.

Stage 1, Step 1 and/or 2, was going pretty well. The kiss was soft but active even without tongues. Angie was clearly a lot more comfortable and a lot more relaxed than she had been. My hard-on did not seem to be bothering her but I couldn't be sure and it had to be dealt with pretty soon.

I was trained and I got advice, but I've been at this for a while so the Stages and Steps are my own. I learn from the girls I'm with. I also have gotten the Emissaries to ask for critiques from the girls. I'm not after ratings but rather any thoughts they might have about how things could have gone better. I've asked the Emissaries to gently press every girl to come up with one thing that they think might have been better if it had gone differently. I'm very pleased that most girls don't come up with anything. Most of the ones that do, think that I should have gotten my dick in them sooner.

They're wrong; I'm the expert here. Look, almost all of these girls have said that they were very happy with the experience. It's only when pressed for something that they come up with sooner. We both enjoy ourselves more after that's been accomplished; they can't help but be anxious until it has. They think that sooner and less pleasant (which they have not experienced) might be better than later and more pleasant. Early on I let the girls push me around more so I have experienced sooner and I'm quite comfortable with my opinion about how to get there.

The Stages are simple and sequential and I consider them to be very important. The reference to Steps earlier was nonsense. They exist but they're more like reminders or ways to deal with particular problems a girl might be having. But nothing is absolute; if I thought a girl was completely ready for me to stick it in her the moment we walked through the door, I'd stick it in her.

Stage 1 is a big one and often challenging. The objective is to be naked, in bed, on top of the covers, with enough light to see each other, and the girl has to be reasonably relaxed and comfortable. In particular she has to be comfortable with the fact that I have an erection that's pressed against her and that pokes her whenever we move. She has to accept that it just means I like her (small joke there) and that it isn't an immediate threat to her and that it doesn't require immediate attention. Except for the most confident girls, I don't want her to be very aroused. I want her comfortable enough to be able to check me out, to look and touch all she wants.

I pulled my head back and broke the kiss. Angie's face was serious and she looked a little breathless. I smiled. "Hi."

She smiled back. "Hi, yourself."

"I would like to pick you up, carry you to the bed, lower you gently in the center, and then join you for some kiss and talk. Would that be alright?"

She nodded her head.

"Could I have another kiss to hold me until we get there?"

She kissed me hard and then touched her tongue to my lips as she withdrew.

I picked her up and she put her arms around my neck. I stared at her face for a moment before I began the four steps that it took to get to the side of the bed. I knelt on the bed, kissed her on her forehead, and lowered her. When I pulled my arms out from under her I took her near hand and held it while I lay down beside her. She rolled towards me and I moved my arms around her back but kept my head away from hers. "Hold still." I leaned in and began small kisses across her forehead, down her nose, around the side of her mouth barely touching the edge of her lips, down her chin, up along her jaw line, and then across to her mouth. I began to run my tongue across her lips but she quickly opened her mouth and our tongues began to slowly explore each other.

This was an important point and a sensitive situation. It's important to get the electricity flowing as soon as possible; nothing's better for making a girl comfortable about proceeding, and nothing's better for making a girl forget her anxiety. But it just overlays the anxiety; any break in the arousal will let the anxiety burst through and the longer it's been overlaid, the greater the shock effect when it gets loose again.

From the point we were at, I cannot keep a virgin continuously aroused through penetration. There are too many unfamiliar things along the way. With Angie's level of experience, there are way too many. And I cannot get a virgin even headed in the right direction toward an orgasm the first time, without preparation. It has happened, but the chances are near zero.

I'm fifteen. I've worked myself up to the point where, on a standard day with a standard girl, at sea level, and at standard temperature and humidity; the first time I get in her I can manage about a dozen slow strokes before I come. That's not enough. And I didn't think Angie was in any way standard.

I think that the penis reaches its peak of sensitivity during puberty and then it gradually declines. I don't think older guys feel as much. I don't think I feel quite as much as I did a couple of years ago. I do think that the familiarity of the sensation plays a part but I think that's mostly just the first couple of times. It seems biologically proper that a penis should try to make a baby as soon as it knows it's in the right place. Otherwise a saber-toothed tiger might come along and eat the guy at the wrong time, relatively speaking.