To Sail Beyond The Sunset

‘Who cares? Just don't stand in front of the judges' bench. If you can't see them, they can't see you.'

‘Mo, are you sure you want to do this?'

‘Isn't that why we carne up here? Here, help me spread this blanket. We'll use it doubled. The judges spread it along the bench to protect their tender behinds. It will keep splinters out of my tender behind, and out of your knees.'

Chuck didn't say a word as we made our ‘bed'. I straightened up and looked at him. He did not look like a man about to achieve a joyful consummation long desired; he looked like a scared little boy.

‘Charles... are you sure you want to?'

He looked sheepish. ‘It's bright sunlight, Mo. This is awfully public. Maybe we could find a quiet place on the Osage?'

‘Chiggers and mosquitoes and youngsters hunting muskrats. And they'll pop up just when we're busiest. No, thank you, sir. But, Charles - Charles dear - I thought we were agreed on this? I certainly don't want to rush you into anything. Would you mind cancelling the trip to Butler?' (A shopping trip to Butler was my excuse to my parents for asking Chuck to drive me that morning - Butler was not much bigger than Thebes, but it had much better shopping. Bennett and Wheeler Mercantile Company was six times as big as our biggest general store. They even stocked Paris styles - or so they claimed.)

‘Why, no, Mo, if you don't want to go.'

‘Then would you mind swinging past Richard Heiser's house? I need to speak to him.' (Chuck, I'm smiling and speaking gently... but I would like to massage you with a basebali bar!)

‘Uh - Something wrong, Mo?'

‘Yes and no. You know why we came up here. If you don't want my cherry, well, Richard let me know that he wanted it.

I didn't promise him anything... but I did tell him that I would think about it.' I looked up at Chuck and then dropped my eyes. ‘And I did think about it and decided you were the one I wanted... had wanted ever since that time you took me up the bell tower. The school Easter party. You know. But, Charles, if you've changed your mind... I still don't intend to let the sun set with me still a virgin. So will you drive me to Richard's house?'

Cruel? Not truly so. A few minutes later I delivered what I had promised. But men are far more timid than we are; sometimes the only way you can get one to move is by placing him in sharpest competition with another male. Even a tabby cat knows that. (By ‘timid' I do not mean ‘cowardly'. A man - what I think of as a man - can face death calmly. But looking ridiculous... such as being surprised in copulation... can distress him to his marrow.)

‘I haven't changed my mind!' Charles was most emphatic.

I gave him my sunniest smile and opened my arms to him. ‘Then come here and kiss me like you mean it!'

He did, and we both caught fire again. (His backing and filling had cooled me.) At that time I had never heard the word ‘orgasm' - I am not sure it had been coined by 1897 - but I had done some private experimenting and I knew that it was possible for something strongly resembling fireworks to happen inside me. By the end of that kiss I felt myself getting close to that point.

I pulled my face away just far enough to murmur against his lips, ‘Dear Charles. I'll take off all my clothes... if you want me to.'

‘Huh? Jeepers, yes!'

‘All right. Do you want to undress me?'

He undressed me, or tried to, while I unfastened ail the snaps and buttons and ties ahead of him. In a few moments I was bare as a frog and ready to burst into flame. I happily struck a pose I had practised and let him look. He stared and caught his breath; I felt a fine tingle deep inside me.

Then I closed in on him and started unfastening his buttons and things. He was shy and I didn't push it. But I did get him to take off his trousers and drawers. I put them on top of mine on the box over the trap door, then sank down on the blankets. ‘Charles -‘

‘Coming!'

‘You have a safe?'

‘A what?'

‘A Merry Widow.'

‘Oh. Gee, Mo, there isn't any way I can buy them. I'm only sixteen. Pop Green is the only one who sells them... and he won't unless you're either married or over twenty-one.' The poor dear looked quite woebegone.

I said quietly, ‘And we aren't married, and don't want to have to get married - not the way Joe and Amelia had to - my mother would have a fit. But... Quit looking grim and hand me my bag.'

He did so, and I got out the condom I had fetched.

‘There are advantages to being a doctor's daughter, Chuck. I swiped this while I was cleaning Father's clinic. Let's see how it fits.' (I wanted to check something else. Having become so acutely conscious of my own cleanliness I had become quite critical of cleanliness in others. Some of my classmates, both sexes, could have used Father's advice and some hot soapy water.)

(I'm a decadent today. The best aspect of Boondock aside from its gender customs is its wonderful plumbing!)

Chuck looked clean and smelled clean - scrubbed as recently as I was, was my guess. A whiff of male musk, but fresh. Even at that age I had learned the difference.

I felt happy and gay. How sweet of him to offer me such a well-kept toy! It was just inches from my face. I suddenly ducked and planted a quick kiss on it.

‘Hey!' Charles almost squealed.

‘Did I shock you, dear? It was just so pretty and sweet that I felt like kissing it. I didn't mean to shock you.' (No, but I do want to find your shock point.)

‘I wasn't shocked. Uh... I liked it.'

‘Cross your heart and shame the Devil?'

‘Yes, indeed!'

‘Good.' I waited while he got ready. ‘Now, Charles. Take me.'

I was clumsy and inexperienced but nevertheless I had to guide him - gently, as his pride had already been hurt once. Charles was even less skilled than I. Probably what he knew of sex came from barber shops and pool halls and behind barns - the ignorant boasts of bachelor males... whereas I had been taught by an old and wise medical doctor who loved me and wanted me to be happy.

I had in my purse a patent medicine, ‘Vaseline', to use as a lubricant if I needed it. Not necessary! -1 was as slippery as boiled flaxseed.

In spite of that - ‘Charles! Please, dear! Take it easy. Not so fast:

‘But I ought to go fast, first push, Mo. It'll hurt you less. Everybody knows that.'

‘Charles, I'm not "everybody°; I'm me. Take it slowly and it won't hurt me at all. I think.' I felt eager, terribly excited, and wanted him deep inside me -but he did feel bigger than I had expected. If didn't really hurt. Or not much. But I knew it could hurt plenty if we did this too fast.

Dear Charles did hold still, his face intent. I bit my lip and tried. And again. At last be was firmly against me and all of him that could reach was inside me.

I relaxed and smiled up at him. ‘There! That's just fine, dear. Now move if you want to. Do it!'

But I had taken too long. He grinned, then I felt a couple of quick twitches and he stopped smiling and looked distressed. He bad spent.

So there weren't any fireworks for Maureen that first trip, and not much for Charles. But I wasn't too disappointed; my prime purpose had been achieved; I was no longer a virgin. I made note to ask Father about how to make it last longer - I was certain that I could have reached those fireworks had I been able to stretch it out a little longer. Then I put it out of my mind and was happy with what I had accomplished.

And started a custom that stood me in good stead for a long lifetime: I smiled up at him and said softly, ‘Thank you, Charles. You were splendid.'

(Men don't expect to be thanked for it. And at that moment a man is always willing to believe any sort of compliment... most especially if he hasn't really earned it and is uneasily aware of his shortcoming. To thank him and compliment him is an easy investment that pays high dividends. Believe me, sister mine!)