Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/F/FINSTER.TXT

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finster.txt
                  The Adventures of Marvin Finster

Chapter 1:
==========

I was 15 when I first set foot inside the halls of Dennison High School.
Fifteen--the time at which the cruel joke which mother nature plays
on adolescents is at its maximum effect, namely sexual urge and
hormone production!

It was driving me crazy.  In the morning before I'd go off to school I'd
have to relieve myself in the shower.  In the middle of the night I'd
have to clean up after a wet dream.  Yet, still I could hardly keep it
down as I went from one class to the next, staring at everything in
skirts, even the more or less ordinary-looking femmes.  Maybe, in addition
to the pressure of hormones, it was a pheromonal effect--just the SMELL
of anything female was enough to give me a large problem.  Whew!

Today, there are a lot of "growing up" movies, like Porky's and Animal
House, that have "peep" scenes where guys can look in on femmes au naturel.
But REALLY, situations like that aren't all that common.  And in any
case, some measure of SAFETY (for the voyeur!) has to exist.  Yeah, I can
see myself at the top of a ladder peeking in on a sorority pillow fight
without winding up in the back seat of police car, and in the back yard
behind the wood shed after Dad found out!  Want me to sell you some
choice waterfront property in Cheyenne, Wyoming?  Anyway, if you're sharp,
you can find a few, rare, genuine situations where you CAN "look in" on some
sumptuous skin.  Maybe it was accidental, maybe it was the hormonal pressure
driving my creative energies to extra heights, but there was one thing I
noticed almost immediately about Dennison High:  the gymnasium had been
REMODELED.

Dennison High was a fairly ancient building.  George Washington slept here,
practically, y'know.  And a remodeling meant that odd nooks, corners and
crannies might exist behind the current facades that no one at the present
time knew were there.  At least, it was worth checking out.

Also worth checking out was the unusually-large proportion of the female
student body that were by most people's standards ATTRACTIVE.  High schools
(and colleges, I suppose) get reputations as having great-looking coeds
or ordinary coeds or (like military academies at the time) coeds
in name only.  Dennison was endowed--and so was the female student body.

Most guys my age were still absolutely petrified when it came to talking to,
walking with, holding hands with, or doing anything else with, a girl.
I was both lonely and so bad off at the time that being rejected or ridiculed
by a girl could make me feel no worse than I was already feeling, so, while
I worked on the problem of the gymnasium in the back of my mind, I actively
sought out some female companionship.

The big rule in going for a girlfriend is not to act like a jerk.  I'll have
to give Dad credit for filling me in on some of the secrets.  I remember
what he said in that conversation.  "Son," he said, "as men, we place a
great deal of value on a woman's looks.  So it's hard to believe, but a
woman does not really place the same value on a man's looks.  In fact, a
fellow can be downright UGLY and have a good-looking girlfriend (he's got
to make the UGLY look MACHO).  Since you are a fairly decent-looking kid,
you won't have that complication.  But to get back to what I was saying,
women want a fellow with CHARACTER:  a fellow who isn't afraid to be himself
and who doesn't worry about what the OTHER fellow thinks.  That's also why
you find a lot of girls that aren't quite with it hanging out with creeps
who LOOK LIKE they're guys who are being themselves--hoods, cycle bums,
and so forth.  Treat a woman decently and don't embarrass her in public,
and you won't have a problem."

Second Period History with Mrs. Paleo was INCREDIBLY BORING, therefore,
with the exception that Second Period History with Mrs. Paleo was also
Second Period History with Martha Schlegelmann.  The name conjures up the
image of a Teutonic Shrew, but Martha Schlegelmann was a cute brunette,
about five-four, with an artistically-proportioned little body that was
just barely on the chunky side.  In short, she looked DELICIOUS.  It was
very difficult for me to keep from drooling all over "Our American History"
with Mattie in the room.  And on more than one occasion I had to discretely
drape my jacket over my arm and hold it strategically in front of me as I
got up to go to the next class.  My lips weren't the only things drooling,
you see.

Another thing Dad told me was not to scare a girl off by falling all over
her, despite the fact that that was what you really wanted to do (pant
pant).  I managed to get the seat behind Mattie by giving the kid who
originally sat there my entire collection of 1260 Silver Bear points.
This was no mean sacrifice at the time and was a major component of my
wealth.  But, it was worth it.  I managed to say "hi" to Mattie and
actually hold a few minor conversations before and after class, but our
next classes were at opposite ends of the building and Second Period History
was about the only time we saw each other.  I hadn't gotten my driver's
license yet, didn't have any money for dating anyway, and I was getting
pretty frustrated with the static nature of the relationship--IF you could
call it that.

One thing I did manage to find out was that Mattie was in the Junior Actors
Guild, an after-school activity group which put on plays for the school.
I have to admit, the idea of acting never really thrilled me, but joining
the JAG would let me be near Mattie more often, and having Mom or Dad pick
me up from school in the late afternoon was different from having them drive
me to or from a date (which I mentally swore I would never have them do).

To make certain I had a reasonable chance to get into the Guild, I first
checked out a copy of Shakespeare's plays from the school library.  The
school librarian and resident 44D, Miss Fuller, knew something of my
interests (art books, photography books, science-fiction, etc.)
and gave me a pretty weird look as I brought the book to the
check-out counter.  She made me feel like I was bringing a Playboy
to a drug-store counter, or something.  But, she didn't say anything and
I took the volume home, out behind the woodshed (yeah, we really DID have
one of those), and worked on my "to be or not to be"s.  Can you picture this?
Can you picture Mom catching me in the middle of Hamlet saying "What didst
thou think I had on my mind, country matters?".  Mom looked at me pretty
weirdly too.  And each day for a week thereafter.

Finally, I told my folks that I was going to try for the Junior Actors Guild,
which sort of, but not fully, relieved mom.  At least, she must've figured,
I wasn't going crazy.  She gave me the mandatory hazards-of-choosing-an-
acting-career speech, but I had it cleared with the folks.

Turns out, I needn't have worried about getting into the JAG.  When I went
to the sponsor, Mr. Wessel, he lit up like a lamp.  He was one male part
short for the next play, he said, and was about ready to dress up one of the
girls as a guy if he couldn't come up with another male actor.

I've hated Shakespeare ever since.


Chapter 2:
==========

Fate has a way of providing opportunities for almost everything, especially
things which you wish to happen.

The first evening I showed up for JAG, Mattie spied me and put on the most
curious look I have EVER seen on anyone's face.  She replaced that look,
however, with a smile, and for the life of me I don't think my feet touched
the floor the remainder of that evening.  I was so preoccupied with Mattie
that I had no self-consciousness about whatever silly-ass play we were
working on, and at the end of the evening Mr. Wessel took me aside to
compliment me on my "natural acting ability".  Yessir.  Thankyousir.

Where Fate came in was in location.  The auditorium was adjacent to the
gymnasium.  The backstage area, like most backstage areas, had a number of
doors and stairways, catwalks and sub-stage crawlways.  In the weeks that
followed, I took every spare moment (every spare moment away from Mattie,
that is) to explore the environment.

I eventually narrowed the interesting possibilities to two locked
maintenance closets which were located behind the rear stage curtains, of
all places.  If I were going to do anything with those, I'd have
to have more time and access than I had now.  There were simply too many
people about.

What I needed was an after-school activity that occurred on an evening on
which the auditorium was unused.  That ruled out Student-Government evening,
JAG evening (of course), Debate Club evening, and Band Evening.

So, I found myself back in the library and at the checkout counter,
presenting Miss Fuller with copies of "Capablanca's Great Games" and
"Modern Chess Openings".  This time she opened her lips to say something,
but closed them again.  Four agonizing weeks later, I was playing chess
well enough during lunch period to get the attention of Mr. Bresenham,
Chess Club sponsor.

One thing you have to realize, too, was that I couldn't let my grades fall
if I wanted to stay in the JAG and in the Chess Club.  My folks would say
that my studies came first.  The entire enterprise was an exercise in time
management, and I got to be pretty good at tit.  at it.  ahem.  Well, I
had to keep my mind firmly set on the REAL goals in all of this, you see.
Just because Chess helped me with math, and JAG with English, well, those
were just side effects.

Getting out the Chess Club meetings was ridiculously easy.  After the
business part of the meeting, the remainder of the time was spent playing
Chess.  Now, Heironimous Smith ("Harry") was a chubby fellow with whom
no one wanted to play chess.  First, he refused to play with a clock,
and second, he was SLOW.  I mean S L O W.  Present him with a complex
situation, and he would go "into the tank" for as much as an hour.

You know what happened.  I started playing with Harry, and when he went
into the tank, I would leave the room to "stretch my legs".  Mr. Bresenham
thought I was being kind by playing with Harry, so he had no objections.
Had he known what I was up to, well...

The first evening I slipped down to the auditorium, I was already prepared
with what I imagined I would need for jimmying the locks on the closet
doors.  Remember, this was an OLD building, and the locks on these doors
were the true-keyhole variety, not the small slot type.  I'd taken a couple
of small Allen-wrenches and a wire cutter from dad's toolbox, and I had a
piece of coathanger-wire with me, too.  The Allen-wrenches were too big
to be used as picks, but in about a half-hour I managed to open the first of
the two closets by creating a coathanger-wire skeleton key.

I opened the door to be confronted by pitch-blackness.  A flashlight I hadn't
thought to bring along.  At any rate, I couldn't very well have hidden it
in my trouser pocket.  I made the best of the situation by closing the
door, locking it, and creating another skeleton key for the second closet.
This time things went much more quickly (experience!), and I had the door
open inside of 10 minutes.  I was about to close it, too, when I noticed
a dim light coming from the far right edge of the closet's interior.
In the dark, I felt around and found brooms, mops, buckets and other stuff
in the way, but I managed to creep around to the corner.  There was a tight
corridor between old and new walls, apparently, that led off to the right.
A REAL tight corridor, folks.  About 9 inches wide, maybe.  With arms
outstretched and feet positioned sideways, I was barely able to squeeze in
and follow the passageway.  Twenty feet or so into the corridor it opened
up into a little square closet, at the top of which an old air-vent opened
up to the late-afternoon sky.  In front of me I could see two pipes climbing
from the floor to near the ceiling, where they entered the wall.  They seemed
sound enough, so I climbed up to look out the vent.

Prospectors when they discover the mother load must have expressions on their
faces like the one I had on mine when I gazed through the vent.  I could
not imagine my good fortune.  The vent was lit by the afternoon sun
all right, but that sun was coming through a frosted window pane some fifteen
feet away, at about the same level as the vent.  Beneath the frosted pane
were the shower stalls of what HAD to be the girls' shower room.

I almost fainted.

Nothing in the way of shower activity was happening that evening, so I climbed
back down, wedged my way back to the maintenance closet, and returned to the
Chess Club meeting, where Harry had JUST made his move.  I had a mate-in-four
but was so elated I went ahead and let the poor guy win the game.


Chapter 3:
==========

That evening as Dad drove me home, I could only think of what would happen
next.  Obviously, I couldn't comfortably hang from those pipes while looking
through the vent, so I had to come up with some sort of solution for that.
Also, I had to find a way to get out of a class or two.  Or three.  Or four.
Heck, I could play hooky all day and be on the school premises all the time!
Well, practically.  I still needed to keep my grades up to prevent all sorts
of suspicion from breaking out.  That night, studying Algebra had to be
the most INCREDIBLY BORING ACTIVITY on the face of the planet.  But,
I did it.

The next day at school I slipped into the auditorium before I had to be
in Home Room for roll call.  I opened the first closet door and felt around
for what I hoped I would find:  a ladder.  Yup, there was an ancient but
reasonably sturdy ladder in there, covered with a quarter inch of dust.
I carried it over to the other closet and just had time to stick it in there
and shove it down the corridor into the Viewing Room, as I'd begun to think
of that forgotten niche.  I was two minutes late getting to Home Room, but
was able to talk Mrs. Frowser out of giving me a tardy.

Third Period that day was the aforementioned Algebra, and I whizzed through
the test I had studied for the previous evening.  Twenty minutes before
end-of-period, as I handed in my paper, a light went off.  In my head,
that is.  "Mr. Feigenbaum, if it's all right with you, I could really use
this time to do some quick research in the library for English class later
today.  Could you give me a hall pass?"

Say it politely, and the world will give you anything.  Including a hall pass.

A side benefit of leaving class early was that the halls were practically
empty, so I didn't run into anyone on my way down to the auditorium.  I was
so excited I had to force myself into not running.  Nevertheless, 5 minutes
after leaving Feigenbaum's Algebra, I was standing on the ladder gazing
through the air vents.  Nice, half-inch-gapped air vents.  Also, I'd prepared
against discovery by making myself a black hood from some felt Mom had had
around, and only had eye holes cut out.  Fifteen minutes now remained in
the current period, and the girls should be coming in for their showers at
any time!

A door slammed in the distance, shouting and giggling reverberated from the
tile walls, and I almost fell off the ladder when the first girl came into
view.  Although the girls' showers had stalls, unlike the guys' showers, which
were gang showers, the stalls only rose to about neck level, and from the
height of the vent, I could look in on about six of the showerees.

I could see ALL of what was going on in the stall directly beneath the vent.

The first girl to get into a stall was one whose name I didn't know.  She
was a short, average-looking little blonde who didn't remove her towel until
she entered the stall.  She removed her towel, and I could feel a dampness
begin to form in my pants.  Well, I DID have other classes to go to later,
so I couldn't mess up my appearance.  I unzipped my fly and let my penis
grow to its full erect six inches as Blondy and her pert little nipples
danced under the spray of a showerhead.

The second girl to step into a shower was Mindy Roberts.  THE Mindy Roberts.
She was cute, but her main claim to fame was the obvious etymological
connection she pointed out between the words Mammary and Mammoth.  She was
INCREDIBLE.  And at her age, they didn't sag, either.  At 15 or 16, she
had to be at least 37 or 38 inches already.  Maybe she'd been gobbling her
granny's hormone cream, or something.  SHE didn't wrap her towel around her
as she walked into the shower stalls--she strode in in the same state as
she was delivered to earth--butt naked.  If you've got it, flaunt it!
When she picked the stall directly under the vent, I damn near came.

She lathered up those fabulous breasts of hers and ran her fingers through
her curly red top, letting the water play on her face and front.  The soft
pink fuzz between her legs became almost invisible as the water hit it,
giving her a very youthful, almost prepubescent appearance (from the waist
down, anyway).

If you remember your high school years, you also remember that sometimes
there wasn't enough hot water to go around, and that some showerheads were
warmer than others.  In Mindy's case, the water must have been almost cool,
as her nipples, surrounded by Silver-Dollar-sized cherry spots, came to
attention and added yet another inch to her bust measurement!

To rinse her bottom, she bent over almost double, pointed her fanny at the
showerhead and used her fingers to part her pussy lips.  I'd never seen
a woman's genitals before, and that was the last straw.  I came.
All over the wall.  I must have shot off for all of fifteen seconds straight.
It was glorious.  I'd never experienced such full relief before, and it
almost hurt at the end.

I climbed down from the ladder, used my handkerchief to clean up, and went
to the rest of my classes for that day.  For the first time in a long time,
I was actually able to concentrate on the academic material.


Chapter 4:
==========

In the days that followed, I manufactured a number of other opportunities
to get hall passes or library passes.  I actually DID go to the library a
few times, just to cover myself.  But it was hard.  (And it WAS hard.  Most
of the time, too!)  At least during the times I did arrive at the library,
I could seat myself strategically and daydream about Miss Fuller and her
succulent superstructure.  I wasn't certain at the time, but I think she
noticed the fact that I was noticing her.  Brother!  To be able to catch
HER in the shower!  "Dream on!" I told myself.

I also had an opportunity to have a small but critical conversation with
Mattie.  It went something like this:  "By the way, what period do you
have gym class?"  "Sixth Period, just after lunch.  Why?"  "Oh, just
curious.  No particular reason."  Subtle as a chain-saw, yessir.

And it would just about take a chain-saw to get me out of Sixth Period,
too, as Mrs. Fennelworth was exceedingly jealous of her English class and
wanted no one to miss even a minute of it.  Getting out of her class would
require some significant subterfuge.

My mind worried over that all that day, almost all night (I didn't get
any sleep to speak of), and all the next day.  I was so preoccupied with
the Fennelworth problem that I didn't even make the attempt to get out
of any of the other classes.  That evening, I came home, did my homework,
and, to the abject astonishment of my parents, went to bed early.  "Are you
coming down with anything, son?" Mom asked.  "Just a rough couple days
at school, Mom!"  Indeed.  I'd about given up on the problem, so I fell
asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I had a great night's sleep that night, even though I had to get up in
the middle of it to clean up after another wet dream, as I didn't have my
relief at school that day.  Sometimes I wondered what Mom thought I was
doing, as she must have noticed spots on my bedsheets when she changed the
linen.  I guess Dad explained the situation to her as he had explained it
to me:  "There's nothing you can do about wet dreams.  Enjoy them, and clean
up afterwards!"  After cleaning up that night, I sat for a moment on my
bed and looked out at the moonlit street.

My hands and legs were pale in the moonlight, and that gave me the idea for
a ploy which might work--but only once.

The next evening at school was a JAG evening, so I took along to school a
couple of small plastic containers--the type you keep dimes in.  And when
no one was looking, I made off with a bit of actor's makeup.  I enjoyed the
remainder of the JAG meeting, enjoyed being with Mattie, and was about to
call it a good evening's work, when some faint commotion was heard from the
hallways.  I peeked out, and a bunch of girls in track-team outfits ran past
me, down the hall, and into the girls' gym.  There had been an interschool
track meet!  I looked at my watch.  Mom would be by to pick me up in half
an hour.  JAG would be over in fifteen minutes.  I conjured up a quick
excuse for Mr. Wessel to let me get out early:  "Mr. Wessel, I seem to be
missing a set of notes for my Algebra class.  I need to check out my locker
and a couple of classrooms.  Can I leave now, please?"

Say it politely, and the world will give you anything.

So I "left" the JAG meeting by pushing the hallway door open and ducking
to the right, and then behind the curtain.  Nobody spotted me, or so
I thought at the time.

I made my way to the second maintenance closet and down the corridor to
the Viewing Room.  I hadn't gotten my relief that day and was sorely
looking forward to it.  Very sorely.  I unzipped my fly, took out my
penis and waited for the femmes to appear.  I didn't have to wait long.

Apparently both teams were using our girls' showers, as more people, and
many I didn't recognize, used the stalls.  The other school had some
EXQUISITELY-sculpted femme fatales, but this was getting a bit old now,
and I found myself stroking my manhood and feeling mildly bored.

Suddenly, almost without my noticing it, the activity appeared over, and
I was about to get off, and get off the ladder too, when two final girls,
Lisa somebody and Helen whats-her-name, got into the stall just below the
vent, TOGETHER.  Like a pointer discovering a fresh scent, my cock seemed
to perk up to new heights.

Lisa turned on the shower head, and the two of them quickly cleaned up.
Very quickly.  Then Helen grabbed Lisa in a hug, and the two kissed each
other, deeply, like you see men and women in a movie love scene.  Lisa
slowly ran her lips down onto Helen's neck, and down onto her tit!  She
sucked that tit until the nipple pointed like the eraser of a pencil!
It was only then that I noticed that both girls had been fingering each
other between their legs.  After another minute, Lisa bent over almost
double, and Helen put her face against Lisa's fanny.  I strained to see,
and finally saw a pink tongue dart to and fro between Lisa's legs.
A short while later, Lisa's entire body convulsed, and Helen then bent
over.  Lisa took her tongue and ran it between Helen's pussy lips, as I
expected, but then also ran it around and INTO her asshole.  Helen gave
out with a groan that I could hear over the noise of the shower.

Finally, the three of us got cleaned up and went our separate ways!


Chapter 5:
==========

The next day in Second Period History I could hardly contain myself.
I was bubbling over with anticipation, and Mattie seemed to be in more than
ordinary good humor, too.

When it came time for Mrs. Fennelworth's English, I started my little ruse
by asking to be excused to go the men's room.  Old Lady Fennelworth frowned
at me but, because I hadn't asked her before, and because I was a fairly
good student, she let me.

I took that opportunity to add a little paling makeup to my cheeks, and
dabbed on some water to act as "beads of sweat".  I returned to English
class looking the worse for wear, and when I dropped into my seat, I held
my hand to my head.  It didn't take Mrs. Fennelworth long to figure out
something wasn't quite right.

She walked over to where I was sitting.  "Marvin, are you feeling all
right?" she asked.

I looked up at her and replied, "On and off, today, I haven't been feeling
too well.  Maybe I'm coming down with flu, or whatever."  She could now
see the "pale and wan" look on my face, and fell into the ploy:

"Maybe you'd better go down and see the School Nurse.  I'll get you a
hall pass."

So I got my hall pass and went down to see the School Nurse.  On the way,
I took my handkerchief and wiped off the makeup.  When I arrived, I appeared
to be in much better shape than Mrs. Fennelworth had seen me in.

Constance Terwilliger was 40 to 45, chubby, and looked forward to easy,
uneventful days as Dennison High School Nurse.  Everyone knew she spent
more time in the teacher's lounge than in the nurse's office, so she was
not amused when I walked in, told her that Old Lady Fennelworth had sent
me, and subsequently found nothing wrong with me.  "Why don't you just
rest a few minutes, and if you still feel all right, go on about the
rest of your classes," she told me.  With that, she left the office
on her way to who-knows-where.

I'd timed things so that only about 20 minutes remained in the current
class period.  As soon as Terwilliger was down the hallway and out of sight,
so was I!  I took the hall pass from her desk and scuttled down to the
auditorium and the Viewing Room.

As I peered through the vents that afternoon, my heart was pounding so
badly that I felt surely someone must hear it.  When the sound of the girls
returning from gym class to take their showers hit my ears, my palms began
to sweat and I almost shook as I stood near the top of the ladder.

Please, PLEASE let Mattie choose a stall where I can see her!  It was only
Mattie that I had come to see that day--all other skin was irrelevant!

Suddenly, there she was.  Mattie was one of the first girls into the
shower, and the stall directly beneath the vent was still open.  Could I
be lucky enough to have her choose that one?

She paused momentarily at one, then another of the far stalls, glanced
briefly in my direction (at which point I ducked) and then did, indeed,
choose the stall under the vent!

She unwrapped the towel she'd had around her and hung it from the hook on
the stall door.  Her back was to me, and the smooth, plump cheeks of her
little fanny rippled slightly as she shifted her weight back and forth.

She turned slowly, and I could see her pleasantly-formed breasts come into
view.  They weren't as big as Mindy's of course, but they were ample,
wonderfully symmetric, and had nipples as big as the first segment of
my little finger!  My cock hardened until I felt as if it were about to
jump out of its skin!

Then I noticed something else:  As Mattie completed her turn to the
showerhead, the dark fuzziness I had expected to find between her legs
was not there!  Only a bare, beautifully bare cleft separated her firm,
lithe thighs!  I'd never seen anything like it.  My mouth must have gaped.

Mattie lathered up and went through her wash.  Not only did I feel aroused,
but I also felt a closeness, a warmth, that I hadn't felt in looking at
any of the other girls.  Of course, that was because I really LIKED Mattie,
and because I knew her personally.

I thought Mattie was about to leave the stall when she placed her hand over
her crotch.  She then bent over, with her ass directly pointing at the
vent, and placed one of her fingers into her cunt!  In and out she moved
her little digit, and then she added a second, and then a third finger.
From time to time she would just spread her pussy lips a second or two,
giving me a wonderful, almost gynecological view of her womanhood.

She stopped only to avoid the danger of being discovered.  She turned off
the shower head, dried off, wrapped the towel around her and walked off
into the distance.  I'd long since come, of course.  I cleaned off myself
and the wall and went on my next class and bad case of inattention.  I could
only see Mattie and her beautiful, bare lips spread out beneath me under
the shower lights, and the tall, thick nipples of her ivory breasts.


Chapter Sex:   uh, Chapter 6:
=============================

In the next days, Mattie and I really hit it off during Second Period
History.  She seemed giggly and effervescent, lively and REAL.  And I
felt like I could hardly stand the happiness coursing through me.

Track season was still going, and the next time the JAG met, the same
scenario with another girls' track team repeated itself.

I conveniently lost my Algebra notes again.  "Must be something
Freudian, Mr. Wessel!  Maybe Algebra affects my Id, or something."

I made my way to the Viewing Room, wishing that I were able to come
up with another excuse for getting Old Lady Fennelworth to let me
out of her class early.  The one girl I really wanted to see again
was Mattie, still out on stage, I figured, rehearsing her lines in
the current play production.

This time Dennison High's star long-distance runner, Diana Johnson, chose
the stall under the vent.  She was tall, slender black girl who had a
great sense of personal pride and consequently little sense of false
modesty.  She, like Mindy earlier, strode in without cover and proceeded
to take her shower.  Her breasts were small but perfectly formed, and the
muscular thighs she sported gave her an almost statuesque appearance.
Under other circumstances, I would have been delighted as a Junior or
Senior to go out on a date with her, but times and attitudes being what they
were, that was, alas, not to be.  So I looked at her with appreciation
and almost some sadness.  She left the shower, and I was hoping that
Lisa and her friend would drop in for some delicious cunt-licking when
I heard a rustle behind me.

I pulled the black hood from my face and turned to look.  An older man
would have had a coronary, I'm sure.  Mattie was looking up at me.
She didn't say a word, but was waving "hi" with her right hand.
She was also grinning from ear to ear.

She motioned me to come down off the ladder.  As soon as I stepped off the
bottom rung she threw her arms around me, kissed me and held on for dear
life.  When she finally spoke, she whispered in my ear, "Oh, Marv, I've
DREAMED about us getting together.  I've lain awake nights playing with
myself and thinking about you!  I want you!  Love me!  Love me!"

I couldn't have been more blitzed if Rod Serling Himself had now stepped
into the picture.  I didn't know what to think, but the past weeks of
careful planning and conniving did give me enough common sense to try and
get a grip on the situation.

"Oh, Mattie, I've wanted you so badly too!  None of the girls I've seen
come anywhere close to the feeling I had the one time I saw you!"  All of
this was, of course, true.  Then came another shocker:

Mattie smiled again.  "So you liked that little show I put on for you!
Did you think it was just coincidence that I chose that stall, and that
I pointed my bottom directly at the vent, rather than at the shower?"

My jaw dropped to the floor.  I had to feel about in the semidarkness
to find it and reattach it.  When I did, I asked, "How did you find out?"

"The first time you pulled that 'Algebra notes' business I knew you were
fibbing.  I'd gotten to know you too well, Mr. Finster, so I followed you
to see what you were up to.  When I opened the maintenance room door I
could just hear the noises from the girls' shower room, so it didn't take
a Rocket Scientist to figure out what was going on!"  She paused a moment
and then continued, "When you had asked me about my gym period, that also
seemed funny, so when I discovered what you were doing, I was first outraged,
and then amused.  If you wanted a show, I'd give you a show!  Course, I
figured you'd have a hard time getting out of Fennelworth's English, so
I had to time my little act carefully.  After all, I couldn't play with myself
in there every day hoping you'd see me!  Too much chance of getting caught!"

"So what did you do?"  I was ready to expect anything at this point.

"Cissy Henway is a friend of mine.  She has Physics Sixth Period in the
classroom just opposite the auditorium doors.  I told her--"

"You TOLD HER!"

"--told her that we had had a little get-together planned in the
auditorium for some smooching, only, silly.  I told her if she saw you,
to ask to be excused, go to the girls' gym door, and signal me through
the door window.  Simple as that!"

WHEW.  The fewer people that knew about this place, the better!

I cupped Mattie's cheek with my hand and looked in her eyes.  "And now
what?" I asked.

"I want you to love me."

"God Almighty, I want to love you too, but I don't have any protection
with me."

She stood silent a second, and then said, "That's all right.  I can love
you without taking a chance on getting pregnant."

She then placed her warm, soft hand on my penis, which was still hanging
out from my trousers, and slowly got to her knees.  I only half understood
what must have been going through her mind at that time, as she closed her
eyes, opened her mouth wide and nervously guided my cock to her lips.

Finally my cock rested inside her wet, warm mouth.  She just held it there
a few moments, not knowing, I guessed, what to expect, what it would taste
like, or just what would happen.  She must have discussed the topic of
sucking a man with her girl friends at one time or another, but it was
doubtful that she would have gotten any real word-of-mouth information
(so to speak) from any of her acquaintances.

Slowly she then moved her mouth back and forth, up and down the shaft of
my penis.  It was exhilarating.  I told her, "Make a circle with two fingers,
and hold that circle near your lips.  When you move your mouth, move your
fingers with it.  Your saliva will let the fingers slide smoothly."
I didn't know how she would take to advice, but she did as I asked.
"Now tighten up on the finger pressure a little.  Yes!"  She didn't
know exactly what she was doing now, but she was, in effect, jacking me off
with her fingers and mouth.

After a few minutes, I implored her, "Faster.  Please, faster!"  My cock
grew rock-hard and must have gotten even wider than it had been.  "When I
come, please don't stop right away!"  I was so out of it that I didn't even
realize I'd asked her to let me come in her mouth, as I just had.  Ten
seconds later, I felt the hot, gushing fluid fire from the orifice of my
cock.  Mattie, true as she was, continued to suck until I had completely
expended myself.  In those early days of my youth, when I came, I REALLY
came, and it was quite a fair amount of sperm and seminal fluid which I
had deposited between her cheeks.  She slowly removed my cock from her
lips, being careful not to let the cum drip from her mouth and onto her
dress.  She motioned me to give her a handkerchief, but I had let mine
rest on the top of the ladder in anticipation of cleaning up after myself,
and now I could not find it.  "I'm sorry, Mattie, it must have fallen from
the ladder!"

She looked at me with consternation, with some anger, and with a mouth full
of manly extracts.  I offered one suggestion.  "It's not poisonous, you
know.  You CAN swallow it."

Her eyes blazed briefly at me, but then twinkled as she became amused with
the idea.  She swallowed, ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth
to get all the remainders, and swallowed again.  "All right, I did as you
asked.  Now do as I ask!"

Mattie, with one motion, pulled off her dress.  She was so excited at this
time that she didn't take off her panties, she TORE them off.

And once again I was cunfronted cuntfornicated--uh, CONFRONTED with her
indescribably beautiful bare labia.  Not a hair existed to keep my view
from her lovely crotch and cleft.  "It is BEAUTIFUL!" I whispered to her.
"Do you shave it?"

"No.  When I entered puberty, I found I didn't like the way I looked with
hair on my pussy, so as the hairs appeared, I would pluck them out with
a pair of tweezers.  Besides, I hear shaved pussies get prickly pretty
soon after each shave."  In the small room in which we were, there was
just barely enough room for her to lean against one wall and use one of
her bare legs to push against the opposite wall, for support.  She did this
and then simply ordered, "Suck me!"

I didn't have any qualms about it.  She had a beautiful pussy and gorgeous
pussy lips.  I didn't care how it tasted or what would happen.  After what
she had done for me, I'd have done almost ANYTHING for Mattie.  For Mattie.
The thought warmed my heart, and my tongue anxiously pressed against her
bare flesh.

I was young and didn't know what to do.  I thought you just took your tongue
and darted it in and out of a woman's pussy, but Mattie soon corrected me.
"It's great, Marv, but you get a better effect by tonging the clit, which
isn't in the hole.  It's just at the top of the cleft, but it moves
sometimes.  It feels like a ball bearing rolling under a buttered pancake!
Find it!  Lick it!  Ahhh!"  I did as she asked and found the clit, heretofore
only an unknown phantom which occasionally cropped up in conversation with
other guys.  Few, obviously, knew what it was about.  Fewer still, where it
was located.

My tongue found that greased ball bearing and rolled it up and down and
side to side.  Side to side seemed to give Mattie a stronger sensation, and
her breath became short and raspy.  Finally, she let out a sigh sort of like
a balloon losing air or a kitten's plaintive mew, and my tongue could feel
a strange-but-not-unpleasant fluid oozing from her little hole.  I made sure
I lapped up every drop.

I slowly got to my feet.  Mattie and I gazed into each others eyes.
We embraced and then, self-consciously because of what had gone on,
kissed.


Epilogue:
=========

The world is a brighter place when you have a soul-mate with which to share
it.  Mattie and I were as close as any pair of lovers, even though she was
still technically a virgin, even as summer vacation beckoned.  In the waning
weeks of that school year, we found a number of occasions to steal off into
the little chamber, and in fact I never even bothered to go there any more
for any reasons OTHER than to be with Mattie.  Some times, especially when
she was on her period, we would just hug, or talk.  I was so taken with her
that it became all the same to me.

Summer vacation came, and Mattie's folks sent her to France for the summer,
to stay with some relative they had in the Alsace-Lorraine.  They figured
it would be a good experience for her.  So did I, although I knew I would
be lonely in the meantime.  We promised to correspond, and we looked forward
to the following school year.  It was the first time I had ever looked
forward to the END of summer vacation.

Other things were happening, too.  My high school was one of the few in the
area that had golf team.  For some strange reason, I took to the game in
a very natural fashion.  Must have been my interest in holes, I guess.
Coach Sharver wanted me on the golf team, and the last few weeks of the
school year got to be pretty hectic.  With all the extracurricular activities
I was into, it was getting difficult to keep my grades up, but somehow
I managed it.  I did come to one conclusion, however.  If I was going to
be in the Junior Actors Guild, the Chess Club (in which I'd advanced to
Second Board on the Chess Team), and sports on top of it, I was going to
go to summer school to try and pick up one of the next year's courses, so
that I wouldn't have to suffer a full load.  My folks were surprised at the
reasoned proposition which I presented to them, but I had been a "model son"
(as far as they knew) and they had no objection.  I heard Dad remark to
Mom one time, "This kid plans his time with a stopwatch!"

So that summer I found myself in Junior World Georgraphy.  The class was
composed mostly of kids that didn't make the grade the previous year.
George Hafni was once exception--he was a shrewd dude, but he'd been sick
a lot in the past year.  I was able to relate to him, and the class was
bearable.

The little two-hole golf course the school had out back was also still
available, of course, and I spent time there practicing my strokes
(the ones we can do in public), and on occasion I would spend time
in the library.

As the summer dragged on, I found myself spending even MORE time in the
library.  And I wasn't checking out books as much as I was checking out
Miss Fuller.  And, of course, my problem with wet dreams had long since
returned with a vengeance.

Now, I wondered, HOW could I get Miss Fuller into the girls' showers where
she could model her mammoth mammaries in view of the voyeur's vent? ...