Archive-name: First/finster.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Adventures of Marvin Finster, The


Volume 1 -- March l988

Disclaimer: All the names and places in this recounting have been
           changed, as well as some other details which might
           have enabled others to identify the locales or persons
           depicted herein.

We begin ...

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 that led off to the right. A REAL tight 
corridor, folks. About nine 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, five 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 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, uh, cuntfornicated -- 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 other's 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 Geography. 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? ...

End of Volume 1 -- March l988

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