Jen Goes To College

I wrote this for a reader who requested a story such as this. I hope she has as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

All characters are age 18 or older

—

Jennifer Nightgarden felt the weight of the world crushing down on her, her carefully organized file of freshman college plans starting to look like a jumbled mess of forms and notes that didn't make any sense anymore.

"But how can they do that!" she nearly cried, her eyes welling with tears.

"Clearly they've made a horrible mistake," her mother said. "But Jen, your father and I have been over and over this with the admissions office. You're going to have to be an adult and get used to this. You just won't be in a dorm for this first semester, that's all there is to it. We'll find you something else. It'll be fine. You'll see."

But it wasn't fine, not to Jen, the tears now rolling down her cheeks. Her mother, looking like she wanted to cry too, gave Jen a comforting hug. "It'll be all right, Jen. You'll see."

The next day, Jen found out from her parents that an arrangement had been decided upon — for this first semester, she'd be living at her aunt and uncle's house, a Cape Cod style home that had always reminded her of a dollhouse, with it's dormer windows poking forth from its steep-pitched roof, and its rose trellises next to the front door.

"Your cousin Sarah has offered you her bedroom," Jen's mother said. "Isn't that nice?"

"But, what about Aunt Rhodie and Uncle Mike?" asked Jen. "I thought, they were..."

"Yes, it's not looking great for them," Jen's mom said, glancing at Jen's dad who was silent, letting his wife explain the apparently collapsing marriage. "So, you know your cousins Sarah and Tyler will both be off at college. It looks like it will be just you and Aunt Rhodie at the house. Uncle Mike...I'm not really sure where he'll be. It'll be nice, though, right? You can help Aunt Rhodie get through this, just by being there with her. She'll love having your company."

Jennifer nodded, knowing it all made sense. The college campus is just a few miles from Aunt Rhodie's house; they'd all stopped to see her and Uncle Mike each time they'd made trips there to visit the school, back before Jen had decided which college to attend. She knew there were buses running all through the town and up to the college on the hill, so transportation would be no problem. Yes, it all made sense.

"You'll still make lots of friends," Jen's dad said. "And you'll be in the dorm for second semester, guaranteed. I've made sure of it."

Jen exhaled a deep breath, one she felt like she'd been holding for a week. "Okay. Yeah, it's...okay. Looks like I'm going to college," she said, cracking a smile that her parents were so glad to see.

—

Upon arriving at Rhodie and Mike's house, with the family car packed full of Jen's things, she and her parents were surprised to see Mike walk out through the front doorway, his hand waving hello.

"Uncle Mike's back home," Jen said, her voice excited.

"Not that I knew of," Jen's mom said.

Jen noticed the testiness in her mother's voice, and sure enough, as soon as the car was parked, her mother was out, face to face with Mike, having a quiet conversation that didn't involve any smiles. Jen and her dad started unloading the car, letting the family drama play out without their interference.

"It's going to be...a little different," Jen's mom said, after walking back to the car. "Rhodie's bolted, I guess, yesterday, gone to New York City and then off on some stupid two-month-long tour of Europe with a friend of hers. Mike's moved back in. He said why should he pay for a motel room when his house is here without Rhodie in it. I swear to God, those two are a piece of work."

Jen's father nodded. "This 'friend', is it a woman, or a man?"

Glancing at Jen, her mother didn't seem willing to spill all the dirt with her impressionable daughter listening. "It's someone I've never met," she said, wanting to change the subject. "Jen, did you remember your pillow? I was supposed to remind you."

"I brought it, Mom. So...Aunt Rhodie won't be back? For two months?"

"She'll be gone, Jen, but this'll be fine. You'll be busy with your school work, and Uncle Mike's always busy with his store. Your father's going to give him money for groceries. It's fine."

Jen nodded, quite sure that her mother thought everything was

not

fine. Her father seemed quiet, too, whispering something up close to her mom's ear, then whispering something else. Mike stood nervously up near the house, adding to the strange family tension that Jen was feeling from all directions. This was

not

how she'd envisioned her first day at college.

It was nearly two hours later when she waved goodbye, she and Uncle Mike standing next to where the car had been, her mother and father driving away, tooting the horn, her mother's face visible through the back window. Jen knew this was emotional for her, leaving her daughter at college, the first day of an empty nest back at home.

Jen felt the pangs of it, too, this new phase of life starting out rocky but feeling so real. She'd never been alone in this house with Uncle Mike before, and my goodness did walking in through the front door with him feel strange.

"You hungry, Jen?" he asked, there in the quiet of the small living room. "I'm a pretty good cook, you know."

And thus a regular thing began — dinners with Uncle Mike, at the informal kitchen table, with the classic rock music he likes streaming somewhat quietly from a wireless speaker.

This first evening, he made a pasta dish with strips of white chicken, chunks of green greek olives, a splash of wine, some garlic and some other things making up the delicious sauce. The same wine filled his glass, and then, with a friendly twinkle in his eyes, he held up another empty glass. "What some? Have you discovered the pleasures of alcohol yet?"

Jen had not. She'd tasted her mother's drinks before, wine, mostly, but it had always been just a taste, a wetting of lips and tongue that usually made Jen turn up her nose, wondering what all the fuss over this odd tasting stuff was all about.

"Can I have...just a small one? You won't tell?"

"Why would I tell?" said Mike, his smile gentle and kind. "You know, when I was your age, the drinking age was eighteen. You're eighteen, aren't you? That means you're sort of legal in my book."

"Yes, I am," Jen said, proud of it, but not so proud of being inexperienced at things like drinking. A late bloomer, she often felt like she was years and years behind, though lately she at least looked like a young woman. "Do Sarah and Tyler drink wine?"

"Oh, well...yes, they do," Mike said. "We don't get drunk as a family, or anything like that. Tyler's more of a beer guy, I think." Mike didn't say anything else, not wanting to tell Jen about the near-empty bottle of tequila Aunt Rhodie had found in Sarah's room a few months ago.

Jen took a small sip of the wine as soon as Mike placed the glass in front of her, eager to see if she suddenly liked it now that she was 'sort of legal'.

"Sit up straight," Mike said, a thing he'd told his own daughter more than once. "You're a pretty girl, you know. Confidence is worth more than anything you can buy."

These words, and this directive, coming from her uncle, gave Jen a tingly jolt of adrenaline, not unlike the way she sometimes felt with the handsome English teacher at her high school, when he'd scold her in a surprising way that she quickly realized was good for her. Glancing at Uncle Mike, she straightened her back and took another small sip of wine, certain that this posture was much too 'breasts forward' for her liking.

"See that? Very pretty," Mike said.

Jen wanted to look at his eyes, to assess things, but she didn't. This posture, this wine drinking, this dinner alone with a man, it all played with her thoughts in funny new ways; new confusions that felt like they needed to be clarified.

Halfway through the nice dinner, Jen's wine was gone, her glass still empty after she'd declined a refill. With the conversation waning after talking about cousins Sarah and Tyler, Mike said it again. "Sit up straight, Jen. Do you mind me telling you that? It's just that...good posture looks so good on you."

"No," Jen said, softly. "I don't mind. But I feel...a little funny doing it."

"Why? Because I asked you?"

"No, it's not that. I...sort of like that. No, it's the...the sitting here all straight part." She looked down at herself, a little surprised at the chestiness on display. She'd always considered herself somewhat small in that department, but maybe the thing that makes the bigger girls seem bigger is just straightening their backs in a certain way, she thought. Is it really so easy?

"One of my employees, at the store, she's a real expert in women's underthings," Mike said, surprising Jen even more. "I'm sure you'll be stopping in to see me now and then while you're here. I'd be happy to ask her to give you a fitting."

Jen blushed. "You mean...like...

bras

and things?" This seemed too much, she thought. He can't possibly mean...Oh my gosh, my father would never even mention...

"Yeah, she's fantastic," Mike said, his eyes nonchalantly looking at Jen's chest. "She'll take one look at you and tell you your size. But there's a lot more to it than that. She'll show you how to adjust everything, to get 'em...up where they look their best. She says every woman is different."

Jen sat quietly stunned, hoping her face showed nothing more than the blush, a blush that had intensified when Uncle Mike used the word 'woman'. Does he think

I'm

one? A

woman?

For an innocent, inexperienced girl like Jen, it was one hell of a first dinner.

Upstairs, Sarah's bedroom seemed small to Jen, like a warm, cozy cocoon that she herself didn't weave. Warm was not an exaggeration, the whole upstairs of this small, old-fashioned house felt stuffy and somewhat overheated. Jen had grown up in a sprawling ranch style house, all on one floor, with central air-conditioning, so this different way of living was, well, different.

"Sorry about the heat," Uncle Mike had said, earlier, when they'd carried her things up to her new room. "Tyler took the air-conditioners out of the windows before he left for school. I wasn't here. I guess he figured his mom wouldn't be able to handle the weight of them on her own. They're kind of a pain in the ass to get in and out of the windows, and it's already almost September, so I think I won't bother with them if it's all right with you."

Jen quickly said yes, it was fine with her, but as she thought about it she was re-evaluating that decision, wondering if she'd get any sleep at all here in this overly warm and unfamiliar little house.

Now, in the quiet of this after-dinner evening, she looked around at some of Sarah's things — interesting books, some make-up left behind, a small jewelry box, some clothes folded and stacked on a chair in the corner. The desk where Sarah had done her schoolwork was somewhat of a mess, but she'd said for Jen to go ahead and clear it off and use it for herself.

Uncle Mike's voice startled her. "What kind of music are you into?" he asked, his manliness leaning relaxedly against the bedroom's doorframe, an after dinner bottle of beer in his hand.

"Oh," Jen said. "Taylor Swift? Do you like her?"

"Yeah, she's hot," Mike said. "A hot singer, I mean. Now that's a girl who wears a properly adjusted bra."

Jen couldn't help but giggle. She knew just what Uncle Mike meant, Taylor's perfect body seeming to be perfectly proportioned — her breasts just right, her ass just right, her long legs probably just right enough to make boys crazy. "Your store sells everything, right? Do you spend a lot of time in the bra department?" asked Jen, giggling again.

Mike smiled. "I would if every shopper was as nice to be around as you are. But seriously, I'll get you hooked up. We got all kinds of lingerie. Your new boyfriends at school will love it."

"No time for boyfriends," Jen said. "That's how I got here. Being a bookworm."

"No! Really? You must have had a couple of hot ones, though, right?"

"Boys, you mean?" asked Jen, surprised that Uncle Mike couldn't clearly see that she was as innocent and inexperienced as a girl can be. "Uncle Mike, do you seriously want to know all this, or are you just being nice?"

"I'm always nice," he said, smiling, boldly strolling into the room and sitting on the bed. "Should I go get another beer? Is this going to be a long story?"

Jen smiled too, but it was a smile that masked her curiosity. Uncle Mike seemed different, and she wondered why. She'd expected him to be sad, maybe even distraught over his marriage troubles, and maybe he was, she thought; maybe he was using drinking too much and talking to her as a way to not feel so bad. So she swiveled the desk chair around, rather shyly looked him in the face, and she told him all about her kiss.

"Okay, that's a pretty nice story," he said, nodding, his eyes soft and friendly. "I like that it was the boy's first kiss, too. But...Jen...an experienced boy is what you need next time. I can tell that you know you're behind the curve, right? You've got some catching up to do."

"Oh, God, I

know

," Jen said. "It's hard, though. How did Sarah do it? Do you know, or did she just talk to Aunt Rhodie about that stuff?"

"She talked to her mom some, and her mom talked to me. Sarah might be pissed at me for telling you — don't tell her I told you this, but — she's had a bunch of boyfriends."

Jen's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yup. Most of them have been pretty nice, so we were okay with it, but yeah, she surprised us more than once. When she went to college I found a bunch of porn on her old computer. But that's the thing, though. I don't think she's all that unusual."

"My mom says the research shows that's not true," Jen said.

"I'm curious," said Mike. "Where'd you learn to be a 'good girl'? At church?"

Jen smiled because yes, she had probably learned most of it there, but they also teach about porn addiction at school, and Jen's own mom had reinforced the idea of good habits when it came to internet usage. But Jen didn't want to tell Uncle Mike all that. She was more interested in this brand new real world she was in the middle of. "Do you...watch porn with Aunt Rhodie?" she asked, the wildly adult question making the hairs on her arms stand up.

"Oh, fuck no," Mike said. "Sorry, does swearing bother you? You don't really want to hear about our sex life, do you? I'd much rather hear about yours."

Jennifer's eyes showed her surprise at her uncle's boldness. "I already told you. One kiss. One and done."

"I don't think I believe you," Mike said, his friendly gaze drifting downward over her body. "Sit up straight again." He watched as she did it. "Shoulders back." His soft eyes twinkled, his lips a barely-there smile. "Yeah, I don't believe it was just one kiss. You're too hot, and you're eighteen. You're not telling me the good stuff. I understand. It's okay. But seriously, that first boy, if he didn't grab a handful or two, he missed out, big time."

Jen sat stunned, her mind reeling. Does Uncle Mike

like my tits,

she wondered?

"I'm gonna grab another beer and watch some TV," Mike said. "Come on down if you want. I'll just be chillin'."

"I think I'll just...get to sleep early," Jen said. "I want to study this campus map a little."

"Yeah, big day tomorrow. All right then. Sleep tight, if I don't see you."

Later on, Jen left her window open when she lay down on her bed to sleep. Back at home she'd never been an 'open windows' sleeper, but here in this different house, in this very warm upstairs, there seemed to be no choice, though even with the sounds of the night so easily heard, barely any air was moving. The room felt tiny and claustrophobic in the dark, so, later, after Mike had gone to bed, she opened her door to the small upstairs hallway, hoping for a bit of cross-ventilation to ease the stuffiness. Mike's door was open, too, she saw it when she scurried over to the bathroom, her way lit by the small nightlight that was constantly on, plugged into an electrical outlet in the hallway.

The bathroom was a little messy, and she wondered again how long Aunt Rhodie had really been gone. It seemed to be a very 'male' place already, with Uncle Mike's razor, clipping scissors, nail clippers and other things scattered about. He'd left her a clean soft towel that looked new, but his was worn looking and hung unevenly. After a quick pee she scurried back across the hall to her room, her body sprawled on the surface of the too-warm bed when she heard Mike's movements. She lay quietly in her dark room watching, seeing him in the dim but adequate light of the nightlight, his masculine middle-aged body as nude as the day he was born. The ass view was what she saw, the sight of it tightening Jen's lungs so no breath of hers escaped. Her surprised mind quickly realized that Mike's return trip would be the other view of him. The front view. The penis view.

Jen had never seen a real live flesh-and-blood penis, though once just recently she'd nearly seen her father's. She would have if she'd looked, but she had the good sense to keep her eyes up on his, both she and he screaming in a funny way, scampering off in different directions to their bedrooms.

Tonight, though, Jen knew she wouldn't scream. She thought of getting up and closing her door, but she didn't want to be standing there when Uncle Mike opened the bathroom door, his body on full, naked display just steps away from her. So she just lay there on her bed, pretending to be asleep, with her eyes half open, listening to him pee out the last of the evening's beer.

He didn't move fast when he opened the bathroom door, Jen's sneakily watching eyes surprised by two things — the languid pace of his movements as he glanced into her room, and the remarkably masculine look of his body—chest hair, leg hair, pubic hair, the works; and of course the first penis she'd ever seen in her life, a clearly fleshy elongation that didn't look quite as big as she though it might.

Mike wasn't as surprised by what he saw. Jen's open bedroom door made him happy—he'd wondered if it would be that way. His somewhat quick glance saw Jen on her bed, the sheet all disheveled and not covering her, her nightclothes some sort of light gray or white shorts, gym shorts, maybe, and a light colored t-shirt. Lying on her side as she was, her hip looked prominent, her waist well below it in a nice 'feminine curves' kind of way. The most interesting thing was her orientation, facing him, because he knew she had just been in the bathroom herself, he knew she was awake, he knew she was probably looking at him.

Settling himself down again on his too-warm bed, his cock was plumping from the thought of Jen seeing him nude. His hand went to it, fondling it to full hardness, then stroking it, his gaze drifting out through his open door, watching the nighttime silence of the dimly lit hallway.

—

Mike rubbed the tired from his eyes as he stood at the stove stirring eggs as they scrambled. "Good morning, Jen," he said. "I made coffee the way you said you like it, not too strong."

"Oh, thanks Uncle Mike," Jen said, her voice tired. "I forgot to ask you about when you take showers and everything. I don't want to get in your way in the morning." Her eyes lingered on his chest for a few seconds because she could see he wasn't looking at her, his body clad in nothing but soft jersey cotton lounging shorts, ones with a drawstring at the waist.

"Yeah, we'll have to sort of figure that out," Mike said, happy to see Jen in her sleeping clothes, not all covered up in an unnecessary robe. He'd thought maybe she'd be a covered-up kind of girl, but this relaxed casualness was nice. "Do you take long ones? The hot water tank is awesome here, you can take half-hour showers if you want. If you have toys or anything, that's cool. I promise not to mess with them."