A true story...mostly. Some artistic licence has been applied to fill the blanks. Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed. Everyone in this story is obviously over eighteen.
Beth and Dan lay on the bed together. Beth was a tall thin girl with flaming red hair, long legs and a pretty face. Dan, taller still, six two at least, but thin with it, having not filled out completely yet. His long curly hair, unkempt and past his shoulders, mousy in colour with fairer streaks where the sun had bleached it, hung down into Bethâs face.
âOne of us is going to have to get a hair cut,â said Beth. Dan snorted in reply âyou firstâ.
They were young and inexperienced. One of a thousand teenage couples finding there way together. They had been going out for a couple of weeks, having met through mutual friends. Beth had made the first move one night in a dirty underground pub that all the music kids hung out at, the doormen little bothered that most were blatantly too young to drink. Dan, having drank too much as usual, was full of bravado and tried to make out that it was no big deal when Beth came across and danced with him. The blaring student music â the pogues, the levellers, crowded house â made conversation difficult and such straight forward approaches where often the best strategy.
Beth told him she had liked him for ages, when they had found a quite corner. Dan tried to make out that he knew all along that she liked him, but it was a lie, a desperate attempt to seem cooler than he felt. They had danced and kissed and talked and kissed and kissed they way that teenagers do. The butterflies fluttering in each of their stomachs, a feeling that might be unpleasant in different circumstances, but which was now all they could feel, apart from each other, a feeling of new love, the excitement of something beginning, a feeling that is often so yearned for but never captured, a feeling that flits away as soon as you try to take hold of it.
That was how it had began and it had matured into a relationship, puppy love perhaps but so very real to the two of them. They sent most of their time kissing and groping, young would be lovers experimenting, but they hadnât made love yet. It would be Danâs first time. Beth, on the other-hand, claimed sheâd had sex many times before, claimed that at school she used to be called âwelly boot topâ meaning that her pussy was so well used it was now the size of the top of a Wellington. When she had first told Dan this he had taken it all in, but since he had got to know her more he had begun to doubt it, begun to think that she was as nervous as he and that the story was a cover and a way of gaining some sort of power in their relationship.
Danâs own sexual experience was limited to steamy fumblings, which built up frustration with no hope of release. He had quickly admitted this to Beth. He saw no point in making himself out to be some stud just to embarrass himself when it came to the deed. Now he hoped that that deed was finally going to be committed. Only three things stood in their way.
Firstly, they lay on Beth bed, in her bedroom, but in her motherâs house. Her mother was watching Tele down stairs but would sometimes come in to check. She trusted Dan no further than she could throw him and wasnât overly sure of Beth either.
Secondly, Beth herself. Was she ready? Did she really want to go through with this, and surely if she did, it should be more romantic than this, more than some hurried shag in her room. Dan, she knew, would jump at the chance, was desperate to be rid of his virginity (all his mates claimed to have already had sex, although in years to come Dan seriously doubted this, believing that his friends just didnât have the courage to tell the truth and face the laughter as he had done).
Thirdly, and most tellingly, Julia. Julia was Bethâs friend, fresh from a break up with Danâs best friend Michael. Dan had often fantasised about Julia when her and Michael were going out and Dan was unattached. Julia was younger than him with long brown wavy hair, sometimes with the odd plait or beads in, going well with her hippy like clothes. She was tall and well proportioned with small pert breast and a beautiful face. So beautiful that Dan new he could never get close to a girl like her.
The only way he did get close to her was through his friend Michael. Dan and Michael were almost inseparable, so much so that he was almost always there when Julia was and he would be left in one room whilst they went into another to be intimate. Dan could often here them through the walls and would grow jealous by the thought of them enjoying each other. This led to Danâs major crush on Julia, but he knew she was out of his league, so when Beth came along he was more than happy. That may sound like he was settling for second best but he never saw it that way and was always grateful that Beth felt something for him, and returned it in full measure.
However, Julia was the third problem not because of Danâs crush; Julia was a problem because she lay on the floor beside the bed. Dan and Beth were meant to be alone tonight, but Julia had just broken up with Michael and Beth said she needed some company. Although the occasional hurried word from Beth when she managed to separate herself from Dan could never be described as company.
The only reason Bethâs mother allowed Dan to be here at this time of night was that Julia was there as well. What could they get up to with someone else in the room? Dan wasnât exactly sure what he could get away with, but he was sick of being a virgin and he was going to push his luck till it snapped.
The TV was on in the corner of the room, with the sound down, and Julia watched it with an intensity achievable only by those who are desperately trying not to watch something else. A stereo played indie and rock quietly.
Dan and Beth necked on the Bed, Beth lying on her back with Dan above her. They kissed passionately. They rubbed their straining bodies against one another, wanting something more but not daring, their mouth spreading wetness over each other. The heat of their breath coming in pants as they pushed themselves upwards to the kind of arousal that only deprivation can bring.
He ran his hand up her hip over her course jeans and slid it under her jumper. His trembling hand the barest whisper against her skin, raising goose bumps and causing her to shiver. Their mouths parted and she looked up into his eyes and let out a stored breath of longing. Her skin was soft and pale and it responded to his touch; the tiny light hairs of her side, almost imperceptible, standing to attention as his hand passed by. She, like her flesh before her, responded to him, running her own hands under his thin top to caress his hot skin. She traced his spine with her hands running from the small of his back, up between his shoulder blades, as far as his clothes would allow. He arched his back lifting himself away from her and smiled at the feeling, that tickling that doesnât tickle, but instead feels so very good.
