Sunday, October 27
Brie broke out laughing every time she looked at me. I went with the joke, and rubbed my ass every time she laughed.
Our school has a couple of outdoor places we call the commons' plus one really big indoor commons' space. The architects, apparently, were told that students would spend shitloads of time in collective activities. In practice, everyone eats lunch in the outdoor commons and the lower--school kids do PE and play in the indoor. On sunny days, which are rare, we eat in the common area that's uncovered, but there is a huge covered area where we set up for things like the Halloween carnival. My mental 3-D geometry isn't quite good enough to remember exactly how all this goes together.
Also, there's a small amphitheater. None of this matters to this story, but I thought I'd write it down.
So, we set up the booth in full costume. Randi was in full with her Puss-n-Boots costume, and the rest of us looked like a bunch of refugees from a CATS try--out. Randi and Brie were obviously a couple, and made no attempts to hide it. Eric showed up to help, even though he was supposedly attached to one of the 11th grade booths. Carlos wandered by, and we tried to play very cool, but everyone seemed to notice that he and I were coupling up in a big way.
The whole idea is we hand out candy to the rug-rats and paint their faces to look like cats and give them a pair of day-glo kitten ears in trade for their Moms and Dads dumping dollar bills in our tip jar.
So, we set up and proved it would work and everyone was happy, and everyone started to wander their own ways. Brie and Randi started walking around admiring everyone else's booths, basically on a lesbian date. Emma-Red, who was fretting like a cat (pun intended) having kittens hung around to make sure every single thing was perfect, because, for some strange reason, this had something to do with her cred's on student council would mysteriously eventually have something to do with whether she got into Stanford or not.
After a while, it was down to Maddy and me. Mom was going to pick me up in another 30 minutes, so I had time to kill. Maddy asked me if we could walk around and talk, and I said sure.
It didn't take long for Maddy to start breaking down. "Christy, I don't know if this is kosher or not, but you're kinda our group's resident expert on sex stuff. Mind if I ask you something?"
Well, I didn't know whether to be honored or insulted. `Resident expert on sex stuff' was a lot. I mean, yeah, I'm the group's little pet trans--girl, and so yeah, I go to gender confirmation therapy (which everyone knows about) and also sex therapy (which no one really knows about) but otherwise I'm no more the expert than any other girl in our group. I'm just plodding along, and yes I have a boyfriend, but yeah, maybe I know more than Maddy. So.... "OK, Maddy, what's up?"
"I'm like... worried... about getting pregnant."
OK., this is an area in which I have absolutely zero expertise, but let's go with it. "What has you worried, Maddy, my love?"
"So, I'm worried about getting preggars. What do you know about jumping sperm?"
Ahhhh.... Wow... This is a fairly progressive school, and everyone had to take two years of sex ed in 7th and 8th grades as part of the health curriculum because, well, our school and our parents are progressive enough to know that as soon as we started sprouting pubic hairs we'd have the urge to show them off to members of the opposite sex. Maddy was in the same classes I was in, so learned everything I learned about penis-vagina-sperm--egg-9 months-baby. Then again, I remembered that Maddy had a way of drifting off when she saw a butterfly, so yeah, I figured I was on the hook to re-teach her 8th grade health science.
"Maddy, what have you done? And what the hell is this about `jumping sperm'?"
"Yeah, well, the jumping sperm thing was something I heard at church..."
"OK, stop right there. Nearly anything you hear about sex at church is wrong. Got it? Now, what did you do to make you think about getting preggars? Let's start with the basics. Have you had someone's penis in your vagina?"
"You mean like inside?"
"I mean like inside. I mean like evacuating inside your vagina, but for that matter, any penis-in--vagina activity is of interest here."
"No."
"So, your never had a boy's penis in your va-jay-ja?"
No.
"So, what has you worried?"
"A boy... came on me."
"What do yo mean, `came on you'?"
"We were naked..."
"Oh... first... who?"
"Billy."
"Billy like the guy on the track team, Billy?"
"Yeah."
"Since when are you an item with Billy?"
"Yeah, like, we're not an `item', we were just naked making out in my parents basement last weekend."
"That kinda makes you an `item', Maddy. How long have you been dating him?"
"This wasn't a date. We were just in my parents basement, and no one was home, and we were watching a movie, and then one thing led to another...."
"One thing led to another and you were naked on the sofa...?"
"No, it was more like on the floor, on a pile of cushions and pillows."
"Back up, Maddy. He was over at your house, but this wasn't a date?"
"No. Dad pays him to mow our lawn. He was all sweaty and dirty, and had to go to track practice, so I told him he could shower and change in the basement. I was just watching TV, and he came out of the shower with a towel draped around his waist. He was still wet, and I invited him to sit on the floor with me and watch the movie."
"We're you naked at this point?"
"No."
"When did you get naked?"
"I dunno. He sat down by me, and the towel draped open a bit and I could see his willie..."
"Penis"
"Yeah. That thing. Anyway, I started giggling and he cracked a joke, and one thing led to another..."
"Yeah, there's that again..."
"And we were making out, and he said it wasn't fair that I'd seen him naked but he hadn't seen me naked so I let him peel off my clothes, and then we were both naked and making out." He got all excited...."
"We're you holding his penis?"
"Yeah... maybe... yeah..."
"You think maybe that had something to do with him getting excited?"
"Y.....e....a....h... OK.. Maybe. So, have you ever seen a boy cum? It's wild!"
"Maddy. I used to be a boy. I still have the operational plumbing. So yeah."
"So anyway, he came all over my belly, and I ran to the bathroom and got a wet washcloth and wiped it up but I was worried some of it might have `jumped' into, well, yo know..."
"Yeah. I have a vague notion. Look, sister, you're almost certainly OK. `Jumping sperm' isn't a real thing. Be sure to carry a condom or two with yo in your purse - they give them away at the school nurse's office, no questions asked. If a boy wants to actually deflower you in your real--life vagina, then use one. Otherwise, bringing a guy off with your hand or mouth is pretty much a preggars-free solution."
"Mouth?"
"Oh, Maddy, we have so much to teach you."