This is the story, actually, the factual relation of my first sexual relations with a woman. I was well past my eighteenth birthday when it happened. We, my mother, father and me, lived on the outskirts of a small Midwestern town, right in the bible belt. I was home schooled by my mother in the hours that she wasn't at church, so that I had no contact with others my age.
Father was not as religious as she, only going to church on Sundays, while I attended Sunday School in the church basement where Mrs. Saxton, the only other woman I'd had contact with, the teacher, would hold forth for about an hour before we were shoo'd upstairs to join our parents. There was another boy in Sunday School, but he was much younger than me, Johnny Desmon, about ten years old..
Never a curse word was heard in our house, fathers strongest word was 'Dang!' and mother would chastise him for using that word. Apparently it was permissible for the preacher, The Reverend Snodgras, to use the words 'hell' and 'damn', but only in his sermons, preaching for two or three hours without letup during services. I know father would often go to sleep during the orations Mother made sure I remained awake.
It had been two years earlier that I suffered my first 'wet dream' and it scared me something awful. Somehow knowing that it was 'wrong', I hid my bedsheet and pajama bottoms from mother until wash day and throwing them into the washing machine as she was loading it. Somehow, I managed to control myself after that, but found that when my penis did grow longer and hard, there was a most pleasurable feeling when, with a little help from my right hand, I could shoot a white paste into the palm of my other hand.
My innocence ended during the summer of 1982. Mrs. Mullens, our next door neighbor died in early spring of the previous year, leaving her husband, Mr. Jonas Mullen alone. Mother took it upon herself to help Mr. Mullen in his housework, even doing his laundry on laundry day. Then, in late spring, early summer, Mr. Mullen's niece, Gertrude, moved into the house. She had lived in Chicago until a divorce from her husband, and having nowhere to go, came to live with her uncle. .
Gertrude was a rather tall, thin woman of about forty, her black hair beginning to streak with white. She had a rather pleasant face, seemingly to always have a smile, full lips, usually bright red with lipstick, something my mother didn't approve of, wide set, nearly oriental almond shaped, deep blue eyes, and a rather thin, somewhat longish, nose.
Of course, she took over all of the household chores my mother had been performing before she came. On occasion I would encounter her on the street when she had gone shopping, but, other than than we had no contact. Like Mr. Mullen, she never attended church, another thing of which mother didn't approve.
In December, just before Christmas, Mr. Mullen became quite ill and right after the first of the new year, passed away. At first we wondered what would happen to Gertrude, but soon learned that Mr. Mullen had signed the house over to her months before and, in addition, had left her, as mother put it, a rather tidy sum of money. He had always been very frugal and we never realized just how much money he had.
While Gertrude had always been very conservative in her dress, you can imagine mother's reaction when, on a rather warm spring day, she left her home to go shopping, dressed in shorts. Not only were they shorts, they were VERY short, displaying from behind, the lower parts of her buttocks. While mothers face became crimson and she turned away, father gave a low whistle and, under his breath, exclaimed, "Look at the legs on her!" Mother exploded. "Franklin Adams, shame on you, and right in front of the boy!" Father chuckled. "Marian, he's got to learn someday. You can't keep him a virgin all his life."
Indeed, she did have very attractive legs, long and shapely and they were accented by the high heeled shoes she wore. I had never seen her wear high heels before, always she had worn flat heeled shoes and, of course, had never seen her legs like this. For some reason, my penis began to grow and get hard. I sneaked away to our bathroom and massaged it till it spurted out that white paste again.
It was a week or so later that it happened. I was in our side yard, cutting the grass, when Gertrude appeared in her yard, again in her short shorts, topped with a white shirt, the material so thin I could see her breasts with their coral tipped nipples. I know I turned red as a beet and became slack jawed and my penis jumped to its full growth, causing a bulge in the denim pants I was wearing.
"Why, Andrew, I believe you like my clothing," she laughed at me. Foolishly, all I could do was to repeat my father's observation. "You've got very nice legs, Miss Gertrude." With her eyes fixed on the bulge in my pants, she replied, "And it looks like you have a very nice third leg, Andy. You'll have to show it to me sometime. And, don't call me 'Miss Gertrude', call me Trudy, please." With that she turned and returned to her house.
