Closing her eyes hard so that tears nearly came, she felt Karen respond with lusher ravings and frantic daggerings of her flexible strong tongue. The hard jaws were forced open to their fullest extent and she felt two rows of teeth rowel the soft flesh that contained the only part of her that was! While hot on her belly and heavily on her ears fell Karen's harsh and excited snorting as the girl tried to bite and chew her way through Maryon's skin and bone to get to her vagina's far end.
Then down came the old familiar barriers and a wealth of gloriously glowing golden moltenness cleansed the agonizing ache of expectancy from her convulsing cunt and she collapsed, folded over the limp head of the other girl, hugging her like a dear doll between her thrumming thighs.
And presently they made gentler love, marveling over the clefts and contours of each other's bodies, discovering with soft exclamations the differences and samenesses each of each.
Later that night, as Lois came falter-footedly home, Maryon, helping her mother to undress and go to bed, found herself wonderingly wondering what it would be like to find herself in the arms of this woman who, once, must surely have cradled and caressed her.
SIXTEEN YEARS OLD
Her infatuation with the new world opened up to her by Karen carried Maryon through several months but, when the older girl's parents moved further out from the city, she lost touch. And somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to form another lesbian attachment. It had been… an experience; something to be remembered and put at the back of her mind somewhere. Sapphism was, after all, only a middle course between masturbation and masterbation, or so it seemed to her. Nothing seemed to work completely for her, neither self, boys, or girls. Perhaps the fall, when she would be attending Glenville High, would bring fresher contacts, more mature possibilities…?
But in her classmates at least, she was to be disappointed. Perhaps because she'd attended a nonpublic school hitherto, perhaps because of her natural inward-turning nature – whatever the reason, she found herself cut off from the mainstream of school activities and for her part regarded with some degree of contempt the somewhat unsophisticated attitudes of her peers.
Though she studied hard on her own, her results in tests were poor, and before the semester was over she was marked as bottom of her class. So it was that on a bleak, overcast December afternoon she found herself reporting to the small private office of Mister Hugh Jenner, her Room- and History-Teacher. 'Old Gelid Jenner' they called him behind his back, more from alliteration than accuracy. He was a short, balding man in his early forties, with disappointed eyes behind his rimless glasses and a tag of beard on his chin. His temper knew only two moods… sarcastic, biting humor and long-suffering, patronizing forbearance. As she stood outside his door in her newly-bought, latest-fashionable boots and brown imitation leather micro-mini-skirt, with sleeveless fringed vest to match over a bright yellow turtle-necked sweater, with her books in their strap under one arm, Maryon brushed the fall of blonde hair which she was letting grow again back off her forehead, tired after the day's studies, and wondered which of the two moods he would be in. Maybe, now that school was out and no noisy sounds ringing through the empty corridors, Jenner would be calmer, more human. She hoped so. She was in no mood herself to be upset by some trivial point, and delayed from getting home to a warm house and a hot meal. With a quick look around to see that the place was deserted, she put the books down and ran both hands quickly, strongly up her legs to smooth into place her warm pantyhose.
Bending over thus, she was surprised when Jenner's throaty voice behind her said: "Hhhrrhhmm! Miss Swelt, is it? Come in, come in."
He must have opened the door without making a noise, the quiet creep, she thought, a flush mantling her cheeks as she realized that her short skirt, hiked higher as she'd bent over, must have afforded him an excellent view of her sleek upper thighs. At least! If such views interested him, that is! She trotted dutifully behind him in her high-heeled brown boots and sat in the chair he indicated, alongside his desk. He finished straightening out some papers that lay on it, then looked at her.
"Um… Maryon, is it? Yes… well… uh, Maryon, we don't seem to be making very good progress our first semester, do we?"
Followed, to her boredom, by a recital of her marks, her attitudes as reported by her other teachers, and the areas in which she might hope to make an improvement. She let the words run past her ears, not in the least way interested, until suddenly she realized that he was interested – but in her figure rather than her marks, for he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the knee of her swinging crossed-over leg or the bulge of her sweater-bound breasts as, when she shifted herself uneasily, they brushed aside the narrow lengths of her loose-hanging vest. Mentally she sat up and began taking notes. She knew she was smart, and didn't much care either for the rigid system of scholastic scorekeeping or the supposed value of it once she quit school and applied herself to a career. But… But! But if she could get herself upgraded through Mr. Hugh Jenner without too much degrading of herself then… why she'd make a little bit of effort to win his commendations. With, she hoped, pleasure! She waited until he'd finished then leaned forward, putting a forlorn look on her face and bridling her breasts so that they hung enticingly out from her. "But I do try, Mister Jenner… I really do. I'm not stupid, it's just that I don't seem to do too well in the tests. I know that I know all that stuff."
"Well, I think you do too, Maryon," said Jenner, the eyes behind his glasses still riveted on her heavy-breathing bust. "I think that you're a smart girl, from what I've seen of you. And I think it's a pity that it's the test marks that count."
"Oh, you do, Mister Jenner!?" said Maryon, sitting up straight and uncrossing her legs. "Well then, perhaps I can come to some arrangement with you. That is, if you really think that the test marks don't do me justice." She had determined on a bold course of action.
"Why, er, yes. I really think that in your case your knowledge, generally, surpasses that of most of the students, and that the system of testing shows you to unfair advantage."
"Then I propose a bargain with you, Mister Jenner," said Maryon, getting up. "Just wait a moment, please." She walked to the door, keeping her thighs close together so that her ass-action would be enhanced beneath the brief brown-leather skirt. Puzzlement was on his face, mixed with a modicum of consternation, as she returned to the desk, pulled the chair nearer to him, and sat down. She leaned an elbow on the corner and regarded him intently from out her big blue eyes. "Mister Jenner," she said, after a moment, "in your history lessons you've rapped a lot about the way the world is run. Sometimes the people want to take some power from the King or whoever's running things. Sometimes a country wants to rip off another so's to get something the others have and they don't. Lots of times more advanced countries would take over a defenseless one and make it a colony, so's they could get markets for their goods. Now, in your lessons you've made a point of saying that in all these kinds of cases it would've been much simpler if, instead of quarreling and going to war about it, people would've just sat down and discussed things, making a trade of what they wanted against what they could get. Like the people give the King the money he needs, and make him a guarantee, and in return they get some power for themselves. Or, two countries get together and set a fair price for whatever the second one has that the first one wants. And the same thing goes with the colony bit, the big country gives the colony – one some help to get on its feet, and in return they get concessions, or whatever, for oil or gold… the things they wanted to invade 'em for. Right? Bargaining is better, right? If two countries, or two people, sit down long enough they'll each find that the other has something they want, even though the thing they are giving doesn't mean that much to them. Maybe that's not too clear. What I'm trying to say is that well… say that in Vietnam they need an industry to bring money in, and give 'em employment and like that, and they decide electronics would be a good thing for them, like it is in Japan, huh? And we, America, want to get them to go along with, uh, the American Way… you know, our kind of Democracy. So, instead of getting into a war about it, we send them a few thousand electronic experts – you know, we've got a lot of 'em out of work, now – and the Government, our Government, pays them a good salary. Well, y'see… the men we send would be happy with the American Way because they're getting paid good by the Government, and so without being taught about propaganda and all that they'll just naturally be good, uh, spokesmen? And the Vietnamese are getting what they want, without a lot of official crap being laid down on 'em? And we save money 'cause we don't have all those soldiers to pay and bullets to throw away, and they save money 'cause they don't have to sell themselves to get the aid, or pay for the education of thousands of engineer students in other countries? Seems to me they both get something for nothing – whatever Mister Griswold in Physics says about the conservation of matter and energy and all that – and they get it because what they give is also a benefit to them. Right?"