'Not doing anything?' Daddy echoed. 'We come home and find the two of you half-naked on the couch, your hands on his.'
'We were only petting,' I protested. 'All the kids do it.' Petting was their generation's word; I figured they'd understand it. To me it was just foreplay.
'And what if we'd come in a few minutes later?' he yelled. 'What would we have found then? Pamela, I want to know right now – have you done this sort of thing before? Who with? Have you – have you ever done…'
Mama's eyes got really big and she looked as if she were going to have a nervous breakdown on the spot. She's a small lady, dainty and delicate, pretty, and she looks so helpless when she's in distress.
From the mood they were in, I didn't think my parents were ready to hear an uncensored account of just what sort of things I'd done before and would do in the future at every opportunity. I lied. 'I know what you mean, Daddy,' I said, blushing by will alone. 'And what kind of a girl do you think your daughter is? Do you think I'm some kind of sleep-around tramp? I'm a good girl.' That was true. The consensus among my better friends was that I was pretty good. 'But, when you're sitting and talking with a boy, and you maybe kiss him a time or two because he wants to do it, and then he touches you, and – well, he gets excited, you know? And…'
Daddy helped Mama sit down and he flopped into a chair himself. 'So,' he cut in, 'you masturbate him? Do you do that with all the boys you date? My God, I'll kill every one of them!'
I'd talk myself into a corner in spite of everything. 'No, no, no!' I squealed. 'It's not that way at all!' but it was too late. Mama had regained some of her control and she began to talk.
'We can't go away now, George,' she told Daddy. 'I couldn't sleep if I thought about Pamela here alone, what she might be getting herself into…'
Oh, shit! I had really blown it now! And all because I wanted to go swimming. See what I mean? If we'd had a pool of our own, none of it would ever have happened.
Daddy shook his head. 'I don't think we can cancel out now,' he mused. 'But we can't leave her here by herself either. Maybe your parents would like to have her as a guest while we're away. They hardly ever get to see her.'
Anything but that! Grandpa and Grandma lived in a retirement village in Florida and they read Bible verses every night for a couple of hours before going to bed. Jesus, I'd die there!
'It's so far,' Mama said, and I tried not to nod in agreement. She thought a moment and her face brightened. 'What about Susan? She'd be a wonderful influence an Pam, wouldn't she?'
Aunt Susan? God almighty! That was nearly as bad as Gran and Gramp! Aunt Susan is Mama's youngest sister. She's a writer and lives in a farmhouse somewhere in Ohio, of all grungy places, and she looks like a dishrag. A nunnery would be livelier than her place for a month. I felt sick.
'Yes,' Daddy agreed. 'Susan would be perfect. Do you think she'd mind?' Mama shook her head, and it seemed that they had the matter decided between them. Well! There went all my plans for a month of partying and frolicking.
'Don't you trust me?' I whined, and the stern looks an their faces was answer without words. I winced and got up.
'Where are you going now?' Daddy blasted.
'To Lilly's,' I replied in a hurt voice. 'I should let her know that she won't be able to come stay with me, since I won't be staying myself.'
They grumbled, but they finally let me go, though Daddy checked the mileage on the car before I left and warned me that any suspicious extra distance when I got back would be taken out of my hide.
Lilly would be pissed, I thought, but not half as pissed as I was. We'd been making big plans. But it was most definitely off for now, and it was all my fault.
Lilly's mom was on her way out, and she told me to go on in, that Lilly was in the bathroom, where else? I heard the water running in the room down the hall as I flopped down on Lilly's bed, curling my legs in the air.
In a moment or two she entered the room, wearing a towel and a headful of wet hair. 'Oh, hi,' she said, sarcastic as shit. 'Jesus, Pam, what's wrong with you? You look like a girl who just found out the rabbit died.'
'Worse,' I said, and I told her the whole story as she stood beside me. Her face clouded.
'Oh, crud! When you fuck, you fuck, don't you? Couldn't you have gone out and parked somewhere like any normal girl? Why did you have to bring him home and screw him in the parlor?'
'Yeah,' I pouted, twisting my fingers in the tail of my shirt. 'Sometimes I think you're right about this women's lib stuff, Lil. If I'd been a boy and they'd walked in on that scene, Daddy would have been smirking up a storm. He'd have slapped my back and offered me some of his private stock of rubbers and told me a couple of dirty jokes. But girls are different. Daddy wants to kill, and all Mama does is cry. I should have given them something to cry about. A full confession.'
Lilly shrieked in laughter. 'You'd have given them coronaries! Would you have told them about me, too?'
'Bet your buns,' I said. She grinned, did a quick hoochie-koochie that made her towel glide to the floor, and then she covered me with her sinuous body.
Lilly was the first lover I ever had. We've been friends since fifth grade, when her family moved here, and we've shared everything. My body started growing before hers did and I used to flaunt it at her, twitching my butt and pulling my sweaters tightly over the pair of delicate cupcakes I had then, and it really pissed her off. We'd fight and call each other dirty bastards, and then we'd make up with little kisses and pets of endearment.
Well, one day, when we were friends again, she lured me into her garage and pulled up her dress. She dropped her panties and showed me, with a bold sneer of superiority, the little downy hairs that were sprouting around her pussy. She even invited me to touch them.
I suppose we were eleven then, just finishing up sixth grade. I was already wearing a training bra, but Lilly's tits were mostly big smears of pink nipple. But she had cunt hair, and I didn't. That hackled me, and when I touched her, I was kinda rough. I slid my fingers along the tight line of her slit till she started breathing hard and heavy, and then I pushed inside it, poking around to see just what was there.
Lilly gave a holler and she closed her legs on me. My hand was trapped in her crotch and she rocked back and forth, huffing and panting. Her hair swayed from side to side and she closed her eyes, while little warbling noises oozed from her lips. Something else was oozing, down where my hand was. It was wet and warm, seeping out of her pussy, dampening my fingers, and I didn't know enough to realize that she was having a hell of an orgasm.
It excited me. I used my hand more forcefully, making her cry out again, making her shudder from head to toes, and I put my other hand on her chest, massaging the growing nipples through her dress and undershirt. She went all white in the face and she moaned and my own head got giddy and light, till I thought I was going to pass out on the spot from wondrous excitement. There was a warmth between my own legs, and I squeezed that warm tingle with my thighs.
When Lilly let me go, her face was flushed and moist. And nothing would do her but she must have a look at my pussy and see if she could do the same thing to me with her hands that I'd done to her.
We were sitting on a pile of soft carpet remnants, and they tickled my bare ass when Lilly pulled down my drawers. But they didn't tickle half so much as the fluttering pressures of her delicate fingertips across my half- formed cunt. One stroke and I was wet, two strokes and my little pussy-lips were swollen like a battered nose. We giggled nervously, and then she inserted a fingertip.
The parting my cuntal flanges was so overwhelming and so intense in its back and forth pull on my clitty that I creamed on the spot, and her fingers were aromatic and spicy with my juices.
That was in 1970, and thank God, word was getting around that masturbation wasn't harmful to growing girls. Lilly and I found that out, after we'd been doing it to one another for a couple of months, and from then on we didn't feel quite so guilty. By the time school started again in the fall and we entered the seventh grade hand in hand, we'd progressed to a little cautious mouth-to-snatch play.
In junior high we discovered boys, and we started feeling guilty again. For the next year or two we kept on fooling around, but now we had a justification. If we spent hours kissing and necking, touching and sucking titties, fingering or eating pussies, it was all okay – we were just practicing up for the days when we'd be going out with boys. Sometimes Lilly took the male role and sometimes I did. We'd go through little playlets of seduction. She'd be the dreamy date, picking me up at my house, taking me out, and slowly, by sensuous erotic degrees, she'd warm me up with kissing and petting till my body itched to be stripped bare.
