Mark was blond and blue-eyed and drop-dead gorgeous. When he was a small boy he had been known in the neighbourhood as ‘vicar’s little cherub’ — not a description he ever appreciated. The hair on his head was like a baby’s, flyaway and nearly white. It framed his face in a curly halo and made him look cherubic and innocent. Ironically he was to retain those guileless, fresh-faced, boyish good looks well into middle age. Looks that completely belied the kind of man he was.
Back then, Jennifer could not keep her eyes off him.
‘Hallo, remember me?’ she trilled in a break between the Gay Gordons and the Valeta.
Mark had poured a couple of healthy slugs of the rum into her glass of punch and when her eyes started to sparkle and her cheeks to burn had cheerily dragged her onto the dance floor. He knew a good thing when he saw one, and behaved as usual with the natural arrogance of the exceptionally beautiful.
He was always sexually precocious, Mark, and he was twenty-one years old by then. The age gap between them was a big one in teenage terms. As they danced, Mark developed an erection, and when he pushed himself against her she seemed to respond eagerly enough. He was vaguely aware that one or two of the teachers were looking on with some concern and that his father was glaring at him. The girl was obviously very young, but oh, how he liked them young. And so, after the briefest courtesy of only a couple of dances, he had just one intention — to get her outside. The opportunity came with the regulation speeches. With a bit of luck it would be ten or fifteen minutes before they were missed. Plenty of time for Mark. He had taken Jenny quickly by the arm and, with her protesting in only the mildest of ways, led her out through the kitchens to the dustbin yard. Here, in an unlikely setting for romance, Jenny received her first kiss and very nearly lost her virginity.
She found, as she had rather expected, that she thoroughly enjoyed the encounter, and made no attempt to stop Mark’s wandering hands. She was only fifteen and Mark had deliberately poured rum into her, but it was not all one-sided. Not at all. There was a chemistry between them from the start. He excited her to distraction in that very first sexual encounter — something that would never change in all the years to come. Mark had always made her want things she felt she shouldn’t want, do things she did not really want to do, sometimes did not even know were possible. That night his body was rubbing close and hard against hers, and he thrust his tongue between her teeth and deep into her mouth. He was balanced on one leg, pelvis pushed against her, the other leg bent upwards so that the knee forced her legs apart through the silky material of her skirt. His left hand was underneath her blouse, fingering an already erect nipple through the uplifting nylon lace of her obligatory Gossard Wonderbra.
With his right hand he deftly unclipped the fastening at the back, freeing her breasts so that he could take the whole of them in his hands.
Mark had had little finesse in those days, he had never felt the inclination to develop any, and anyway, on this occasion he knew he did not have the time. As usual he was ruled entirely by his own appetites. But, as he was already aware, that in itself could turn women on.
Before Jenny really knew what was happening, he had moved on from her breasts. With his mouth still clamped over hers, he had swept her skirt up around her waist and his fingers were inside her knickers playing with her. To his surprise she was already wet, and his fingers slipped easily into her. Jenny couldn’t believe what was going on. It felt so good from the beginning. Shouldn’t she be protesting?
She was vaguely aware that with his other hand Mark was undoing his flies. He took her hand and put it around him. He was big and hard and throbbing.
Jenny felt the excitement she had yet fully to understand begin to overwhelm her. Mark was pushing her pants down now and she realised she was helping him. She mustn’t. She mustn’t get pregnant.
‘I’ll look after you,’ he hissed. She knew better. But she was out of control. She stepped out of one leg of her knickers and with the new freedom he was able to thrust his fingers deeper inside her and move his hand over her crotch. He was instinctive about sex. Pure animal in his desire. What was she doing? There was such a buzz inside her. She knew she was moving with him like a wild thing. His thumb was rubbing her, clever, accurate, making her swell, driving her mad.
He had his other arm up under her skirt now and he began to lift her up so that he could plunge himself into her. He couldn’t remember ever being with a girl who was so ready. Vaguely the thought occurred to him that she was the kind of kid he would expect to be still a virgin — but if she was, by God, she was ripe. This was going to be sensational.
As he lifted her, his fingers dug into her bare bottom and he was able to play with her there a little. Oh how he loved that. It was damp from her juices, flowing so freely now. She was wriggling with pleasure. She loved it too. She was just a kid, but, God, she was sexy. She was amazing. They were two of a kind. Two young healthy animals desperate for it. He felt her weaken even more.
She was moaning gently. She had forgotten everything in life except her own sex. He began to take his other hand out of her, moving and spreading his fingers as he did so, easing her as wide as he could. He put his hand briefly over hers and together they rubbed his cock in the warm wetness. He didn’t think he had ever been so big.
Now he had both arms around her, clutching her bottom and lifting her towards him. He felt her long legs wrap around him. She had both hands on his bum now. She knew what to do, all right. It was as if she had always known. He didn’t need a hand to guide himself into her.
His breath was coming in short gasps, he took his lips off hers, panting for it, tensing every muscle for the thrust.
She almost growled at him: ‘Do it to me, now, now. Please. Please.’
He pulled back from her. He was going to go into her hard and strong and long...
And it was at that moment an anxious prowling teacher saw shapes in the dark and called out.
Mark swore and fell clumsily away from her. Jenny dropped to the ground, almost falling. He didn’t try to pick her up. He was too busy attempting to shove his cock back inside his trousers. God what was he going to do with it now?
To her astonishment he ran off, leaving her there on the ground. She just managed to scramble to he feet and escape with her knickers in her hand.
Mark made no attempt to contact her again, and gave no signs of recognition when she saw him at the school sports day later that year. She was not to know the reason why until two years later. Several times she had phoned his paper. Each time she was told he was out. Since then there had been nothing like that encounter for Jenny. No other boys Jenny had met had even tried anything like it. Ineffectual fumbles, yes. But there was nothing ineffectual about Mark Piddle. She had never known anyone else so overtly sexual — or so dangerous. She never would.
And so, lying there on the roof of the lav that hot summer’s day, Jenny reflected on what might have been. She was never quite sure if she was secretly glad that teacher had turned up or not. She had been only fifteen. It was all a bit of a scramble and the consequences could have been disastrous. But sometimes she wondered if she was now going to stay a virgin for the rest of her life. Equally, sometimes she was afraid of her own sexuality. She had gone quite mad with Mark Piddle that night. Crazy for sex. Only she knew how much her body wanted and needed a man, a man who was all sex, like Mark. It thrilled her — and it frightened her.