Date: Tue, 27 Nov 2001 08:27:27 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: Jenny Chapter 1 - Lesbian/Young Friends Jenny By Tom Cup Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving youth/youth or adult/youth sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ Author's Note: When I began posting stories to the Nifty Erotic Story Archive a little over a year ago, my stories where focused on the Gay Men's Adult Youth section. Writing at that time was part hobby and, perhaps, part reminiscing -- albeit in fictional settings with fictional characters. Since then I have written various stories that have found their way into other categories of the Gay Men's section. As comments came in from various readers, I was surprised to find that I had a female following among the readership. I do not wish this story to seem as an abandonment of my Gay readership. It is to be understood as a thank you to the female readers that have followed my efforts and as my attempt at continuing to stretch my writing abilities. This male writer intends no offense towards the female writers or the female readers that frequent this section of Nifty. Should my presence here offend any, male or female, I do apologize in advance. All my best, Tom Cup ************************************************************************ This story is part of the Girlztown Library at http://www.girlztown.net If you enjoy this story and would like to see it continue here on Nifty, please send me a note at tom_cup@hotmail.com Your comments are truly appreciated. ************************************************************************ Jenny By Tom Cup Chapter 1 Prayers I didn't know what was happening to me. My face was flush, my chest was heaving and my panties were wet. I began to cry, lying alone in my room. God what was happening to me? Why couldn't I get Sara Johnson out of my mind? I didn't mean to touch myself. I knew it was wrong. Good girls don't touch themselves. If Mom found out she would beat me, I knew. It wasn't necessary. I felt bad enough. I was sure I was going to hell. "Jenny!" "Yes ma'am?" "Get your ass out here!" How she knew what had happened I wasn't sure. I lowered my skirt, straightened my hair as best I could, and went to find mom -- to receive the punishment that girls like me deserved. "Ma'am?" I kept my eyes lowered. I didn't dare look Mom in the eye. That would surely get me beat within an inch of my life. Mom was agitated. She was standing and staring into the bathroom. She didn't bother to look in my direction. She simply reached up and grabbed me by my hair and dragged me through the door. I was pulled to the tub. "Look at that! Look at it!" In truth, I couldn't see anything. I had scrubbed the bathroom clean just as Mom had said. "Does that look clean to you?" There was no right way to answer this question. If I said 'yes,' I would be beat for lying. If I said 'no,' I'd be beat for not doing as I was told. It didn't matter. I deserved to be beat. I knew now why Mom was so hard on me. I had touched myself. I had wet myself while thinking of another girl. Good girls don't behave as I did. So I accepted the beating, re-cleaning the already clean tub, tears pouring from my eyes, as Mom struck me over and over again. ***** "Ow! Stop it Jimmy." "Stop it Jimmy," he mocked. I hated him. He was always pulling my hair. Boys could be so stupid. Jimmy was the stupidest. He had been tormenting me since kindergarten. I wondered if the boy would ever grow up. "Please." His teasing really hurt this morning. My scalp was sore from Mom's pulling of the night before. I wore a long blouse to cover the bruises. I just wanted to get through the day without incident. I wanted to be invisible. "Please," I whispered again. "You're such a weirdo," Jimmy said. "Why don't you leave her alone?" I heard someone else say. I looked up into the eyes of Sara Johnson. Her brownish-red hair waved and cascade down below her shoulders. Her bluish-gray eyes looked sympathetically at me. Her arms were folded across her chest, accenting her firm grapefruit size breast. I felt weak. She turned her eyes on Jimmy. I knew what he was feeling. She was so beautiful he was shamed to silence. "Leave her alone," She said again. "Freak," Jimmy spat at me before glancing back at Sara. He left with a doggy tail between the legs look. "You OK?" Sara asked. I couldn't look up at her. She was too pure and good for me to look at. I had touched myself thinking of her. Mom was right to beat me. I was wrong to have impure thoughts about a girl so kind, and gentle, and beautiful. "You OK?" Sara asked again. I nodded. "I'm Sara." Didn't she know I knew who she was? Didn't she know that everyone in school knew who she was? She could have her pick of any boy in fifth grade. I bet she could have her pick of any boy anywhere. She laughed. I looked up into her eyes. She smiled at me. My mouth became wet looking at her mouth. I felt the heat stirring in my crotch. I was getting wet again. I looked away. I didn't want her to know that Jimmy was right. I was a weirdo, a freak. "I won't bite," she said. I shook my head. Tears began to fall from my eyes. I covered my face. I felt so ashamed. She was being nice to me, and all I was thinking of was the feeling that coursed through my body the night before. I had tired not to be bad but my crotch ached. I only put my hand in my panties to scratch. My sparsely covered mound itched. I rubbed. I thought of Sara. My mound swelled. I felt the wetness. I was curious. I ran my fingers over my moist slit. I felt a sense of release, a tingling. I kept rubbing. My vulva parted and then I discovered it. It felt like a small button covered with flesh. I wanted to stop but the feeling kept mounting. A warm tingling filled my belly as I thought of Sara and massaged the button. It felt so good. I couldn't stop and before I knew it my legs jerked up, my back arched, and my stomach spasmed. I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling out. I felt dizzy, flushed and drunk. I felt warm, wet moister, between my legs. That's when I began to cry. I was one of those girls. And now Sara had her arms around me, hugging me, trying to comfort me. My head lay on her chest. I could smell her flesh Oil of O'lay fragrance. Her body was soft and warm. I wanted never to leave her arms. I wept and held onto her. "Shhh..." she said, "It's OK. It's OK. I know how you feel." I shook my head. No, she couldn't know. She was too beautiful and good to know. I looked up into her eyes. She brushed my tears away. "It's going to be OK," she said, "I promise. We're going to be good friends." ***** Mom was asleep on the couch -- an empty glass still in her hand, the Scotch spilled on the floor when she went into slumber -- when I came home from school. I eased the glass from her hand. She mumbled. I froze. She rolled away, falling deeper into sleep. I started breathing again. Taking the glass to the kitchen, I retrieved a towel and returned to clean the floor where the liquid had spilled. Sara transferred to our school at the beginning of the year. There wasn't anyone that didn't believe she was the prettiest girl in fifth grade. All the popular girls wanted to hang around with her. To my knowledge she went out on dates with boys but wasn't going steady with anyone. Most of the popular guys had asked her to go steady but she always said 'no.' She seemed to prefer her freedom or maybe her parents didn't allow her to go steady, I didn't know. Whatever the reason, none of the boys had anything bad to say about her; even those that had asked her to go steady and had been turned down. That proved to me how special she was. Usually when a girl turned a boy down she became a slut or whore or some other nasty phrase that the boy's passed around and swore by. Not Sara. She remained the most beautiful, sought after, and respected girl in school. And she had befriended me. The full ramification of the act hadn't dawned on me. I had never been popular. I had never sought to be popular. Skinny girls with straight black hair that wore clothes that were always a size too small, bought from Goodwill, never sought to be popular. They sought to be invisible. The only person that seemed to notice me was Jimmy Rice, my tormentor. Besides him and my mother, the world considered me to be invisible. I liked it that way. If mom and Jimmy would let me disappear, I had thought, my life would be prefect. Only now I didn't want to disappear. Sara had noticed and befriended me. She had stood up for me and hugged me. I trembled. I mustn't think about that. I had chores to do. I looked at Mom sleeping on the couch, promised myself that I would be a good girl, and prayed that Mom would sleep through the night. ***** "Hello?" I glanced frighteningly in Mom's direction hoping that the ringing of the phone hadn't awakened her. "Hi, It's me Sara." My heart stopped. I stepped around the corner, out of earshot of Mom, leaned against the wall steadying myself. "Hi." I whispered shyly. "I was wondering if you'd want to come over sometime... maybe spend the night? You know a slumber party. Watch movies, eat popcorn, stuff like that." "I don't know if my Mom will let me." "You could ask." "I don't know. She's asleep right now." "So ask when she wakes up. My parents are cool with it. So Friday or Saturday or both would be cool. I'll leave those days open for you. OK?" "OK." There was a long pause as I tried to understand what was happening. Why did Sara care about me? Why would she block out time and reserve it for me? I didn't know her reasons but I was beginning to think that there was a God and he cared about me. Sara's sticking up for me, and tender words, earlier had not been a fluke. She called me and invited me to a slumber party, a slumber party at her house. I was feeling like there was hope for this life, my life. My stomach ached as I thought of the possibilities. Maybe Mom would let me go. Maybe I would have a friend. Maybe... "Sara?" "Yeah." "Why are you doing this?" "Doing what?" "Being nice to me." "I like you." She said it so matter-of-factly that for an instant I felt it was a reasonable answer. Of course, why else would you invite someone to your house? How silly of me. But then I remembered who I was. People don't invite me places. People don't like me. "Why?" "What's wrong with you? Why shouldn't I like you?" Where should I begin? Surely she'd noticed that no one liked me. I was painfully shy. My hair was straight, no matter how I washed it or begged it, it still lay lifeless on my head. I didn't have blemishes or anything on my face, thank God, but I never smiled or looked people in the eyes -- the teachers found this particularly frustrating. "Jennifer, look at me when I'm talking to you," was one of their favorite reframes. -- I wore a constant scowled look of pain on my face, my clothes didn't fit, I walked with head down, shoulders slumped, and hands stuffed in my pockets. Even my own mother hated me! What did she mean what's wrong with me? "I don't know. Nobody likes me." "Well I do. And I don't care what everyone else thinks. OK?" "OK." "So you'll ask?" "What?" "You'll ask your mom if you can come over this weekend." "I don't know." "Promise. Promise you'll ask." "OK." "No, say 'I promise I'll ask'." "OK. I promise I'll ask." "Cool. See you in school tomorrow." I hung up the phone and stood staring at it for long moments. Too many thoughts went through my mind to tell. I wanted desperately to go to the sleepover. I was afraid that Mom would forbid me and that Sara would become angry with me because I couldn't go. I paid extra attention to my chores that night. I knew that it might not really matter. Mom had a way of finding reasons to punish me. Again I prayed. I prayed that Mom would have a good day. I prayed that God would let me have just one day of happiness with Sara Johnson. *********************************************************************** Send comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, join the Girlztown Library at: http://www.girlztown.net Now available at the Girlztown Library: Donna: The serial story of the younger sister of Kevin. Barb, Chuck and Kevin have all left their imprints on this young girl's life. Can she overcome the hurt and pains left behind from the tragic events surrounding her life? Become a Girlztown Library member today!