Chapter 10

Nerves were tense all that week, at least among the girls. First, there was the emotions of the Prom, the big romantic dance when you dressed all the way up to look your absolute best. Second, there was the question of what happened after the Prom. A lot of girls wanted to cap the big romantic evening by making love that night.

Among those of us who had regular sex lives, the questions about the night after the Prom were funny, but we tried to answer them as soberly as possible. The trouble was that girls get their emotions wrapped up in something, and if it doesn't meet their high expectations, they suffer catastrophic letdowns that sometimes border (or cross over into) tears. We took it upon ourselves to tone down those expectations (and so did the school nurse and the teachers in the Health classes, which was the euphemism for Sex Education.

"You'll probably feel some discomfort," I told a couple of girls. "I did. Look, it felt funny the first time you put a tampon in there, didn't it?" The two girls nodded. "This thing is bigger than a tampon."

"What'll we do?"

"Get him to touch you down there."

Both girls flushed. They were barely aware of their own anatomy, and now I was suggesting a boy be allowed to go down there? That was embarrassing.

"Now I know this next statement is kind of personal, and I don't want you to answer it, at least out loud, but if you've ever touched yourself down there, and I don't mean in the bathroom, but, you know, like in bed or something, you'll know that the right kind of touch can feel awfully special."

They didn't blush, which was something. So they had explored themselves, at least a little. Maybe they'd even masturbated.

"A guy will want to touch you down there. He's curious. Now you don't have to let him look at it, but once you're under the covers he'll want to touch you, even feel you up a bit, and if you're in bed, then it's one of the things that normally happens. Guys are curious about girls, after all. And just think, this is your chance to touch him back and explore his thing. I don't know about you, but I was kind of curious. For one thing, how does a guy actually walk with that thing hanging between his legs?" I grinned and they kind of giggled. That had been a burning question for me, at least from when I found out about boys (happened when I learned to change diapers) and got intimately acquainted with them a few years later.

"Now here's a secret," I went on. "He has to get his fingers wet. That's pretty sensitive skin down there, and dry fingers actually hurt. Guys don't want to hurt you! If you tell them they can't touch you unless they wet their fingers, those fingers will be so wet... !" They giggled again, and I began to feel some hope for them.

"The whole point is for them to do a lot of touching and make you feel good. Eventually they'll want to put it in. That may be uncomfortable. Bear with it, that only happens the first time or so. And if you play it up, warn him to go slow as you've never done it before, show a little pain, even say how big he is, guys will really dig it. That plays right into the male ego.

"The important thing is to just sort of lie back and let it happen. This isn't a rape, he's trying to make love to you, and he knows as little about it as you do."

"Did Rick?"

I nodded. We learned together. It took a few times, but after that first night it just got better and better."

"What about if his thing shoots off?" a girl asked.

I shrugged. "It happens. Don't worry, it'll be stiff again in a few minutes. You'll need a fresh condom, though. No matter what they tell you, don't let him put it in unless he has it covered."

As I've said before, the girls who were sexually active knew who each other was, though we didn't make a point of talking about what we did. Among us we soon had an informal pool. There were going to be over 120 girls attending the Prom, and as far as we could tell, 90 were planning on having sex afterwards. The pool was on how many of those girls would get pregnant. The low number was zero, and only one girl picked that. Most girls picked two to three. That was a pool no one wanted to win, but we knew someone was going to. We all hoped, against all experience, that Joanne would be right and none of the home pregnancy tests would come up positive in the month after the Prom.

I got my nails done on Friday, and I made the point of getting a complete skin treatment, which incidentally removed all the hair from my entire body. It was a weird feeling for about 10 minutes, but I wanted my dress to just slide on as smooth as possible.

The hard part about getting your hair done is that you also want to shower. You can't keep your hair perfect in the shower, it just can't be done. I decided on a sponge bath. I got my hair done—the line was impressive and at 10:30 in the morning they were already 30 minutes behind on their appointments—and then hurried home for a sponge bath. I had my clothes at the hotel, as well as the bare minimum of beauty aids that I'd want for Sunday. I was changing at home so Mom and Dad could get pictures. I knew this was a big emotional night for Mom. Her daughter's Prom. It was a milestone, and she wanted it, and didn't want it, both.

My dress was long and red, with a slit from the ankle-length hem to my knee. It was sleeveless and backless, tying with a strap around my neck like a halter. The angle of the bosom of the dress was like a pyramid, and I wanted that effect. I'd considered a sweetheart neckline with some cleavage showing, but this actually showed a little breast flesh on my side, not in front. The girls I had gym with knew that I didn't pad my bra, but there were always questions. Now they'd be laid to rest. A flat-chested or small-bosomed girl could not do what I was doing.

If I'd gone for the sweetheart neckline I could have had a bra sewn into the dress to give me some support. I didn't do that, so I was going to juggle and move under my dress. That would attract the eye. Yes, I was going to be flaunting what I had, and the only ones who would be upset would be the prudes.

A guy dresses up when he goes formal. A girl gives the illusion of covering up, and selectively uncovers parts of her body. Dad stared, and then looked away, Mom practically glowed, and almost cried, at the same time.

We went directly to the dance. We had our pictures taken, and then we melted into each other's arms and I really don't remember too many details. We did a lot of dancing, and when it was a slow number I pressed myself against Rick as much as possible. Everyone knew we were sleeping together from time to time (and I complained to other girls that we never did it often enough for my liking), so everyone knew what I had on my mind. This time, this place, this was permissible. I took advantage of it.

Mom, bless her heart, had food in the hotel room for us. It was a good thing, I hadn't eaten since early afternoon. We'd had some things to eat during the dance, punch and little finger cakes, but that was not enough to sustain anyone. Even the girls who starved themselves gobbled those cakes and went looking for more.

I had advised the girls who were the shyest to turn the lights down in their hotel room. The reason I gave was that it would add to the mood, but the real reason was that they wouldn't feel so conspicuous. Most girls wouldn't have too many problems baring their bosom, but letting guys look below the waist would be a lot harder. They'd overcome a lot of this shyness, at least with their boyfriend, by morning. In the meantime, though...

Jo Marie and I didn't have that problem. One the door was closed I ignored her and Frank. Rick untied the bow at my neck and my dress fell to the floor, leaving me clad only in my stockings and panties. He had a lot more to get off, and it took a while, with many pauses for him to kiss me, before we were down to his shorts.

I've always thought it kind of funny that a girl can retain some of her clothing and be considered sexy. Stockings, for example. They would come off sometime during the night, but for right now I could continue to wear them, and just them, and be "seductively dressed". Rick toyed with them, but he was more interested in hooking his thumb in the waistband of my panties and working them down.

When I got his shorts off I melted into his arms for a kiss. His dick was already stiff, and it pressed eagerly against me as our arms went around each other.

To his credit Rick didn't rush things. We took our time. This was "making love", not "having sex". Oh, we got to the sexual part, and it was just as good as ever. As we snuggled together I could hear Joe Marie's gasps as Frank took her to where I'd just been.

We didn't get all that much sleep that night. We kept waking each other up to do it again. In the early morning light the rising sun flooded the room with light and all four of us were awake. Frank and I did it,

Room Service left a light breakfast outside the door and Rick picked it up and we all sat on the bed, naked, kissing, nibbling, caressing, and just sharing. There's something sexy and intimate about eating that way. Jo Marie was as bare as me, and except for our boobs you'd think we were a pair of 10-year-olds.