This is not a work of pure fiction; it's not a verbatim record of events, either. Rather it's a recovered and organized memory with partly imagined details. What I mean is -- the events happened; to me and to my friends; but I have had to reinvent the dialogue. The emotions have stayed with me and I have not had to remember, invent or reconstruct a single one. However, all the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional. No resemblance to real people of events is intended. So there; if you think you recognize yourself or the events, you can't sue me!
Autumn turned into winter quite quickly that year and icy November winds rattled around our draughty school. I thought of Hillie and imagined her snug in a Dales farmhouse. All buttered scones and roaring fires, I hoped. And I imagined her getting rounder and rounder. The school year ticked on and under cover of Art, Geography and Modern Languages I kept up my attention to Bernadette. We'd sneak away into the art store for five minutes at lunchtime for a cuddle and a quick kiss, or hold hands surreptitiously in the back row of the language lab. I was sure no-one knew. Not Paula -- she'd never guess anything so weird, and JJ (who would guess instantly) was taken up with extra cramming on the Accelerated Development thing. Miss Buckingham was the only possibility. She paid me a little more attention than before, watching me. But not really watching' me. It's just that if I was walking across the playground and I looked up, she'd be there on the steps looking. Or in chapel, I'd look over and see her just turning her head towards me. Almost as though she was looking out' for me. But I was sure that she never spotted me with Benradette at all. Maybe one or two classmates had noticed that my center of attention seemed to be focussed' on Bernadette, but they didn't suspect anything sexual, I was almost certain. They would just think we were best friends'. I knew I needed to be both discreet and careful, but I just couldn't keep my eyes off Bernadette. And if I got the chance, I couldn't keep my hands off her either.
I still loved hockey at school and played on every occasion, practicing with Jools after school. Sometimes Bernadette would stay and watch for a bit, but she would never join in. "I could make it this weekend." "Hmm?" "I said I could make it this weekend. Y'know; come and stay with you." I was changing after hockey practice. Bernadette had stayed for the whole time and was talking to me now as I changed. "This weekend?" I was astounded that after weeks of me coaxing and coercing, she was offering. "Unless it's not convenient. Y'know, maybe you've got other plans or things to do." Her voice trailed away and her gaze slid from me away onto the floor. "No, no it's fine. That's great. I'm just surprised that's all. I'd sort of given up asking you. That's lovely, we'll have real fun! Come home with me on Friday evening then we can have all day Saturday and some of Sunday, too." Now I was enthused, thinking of what we could do, how I could entice her. "I'll have to be back for Mass on Sunday, so I'll leave on Saturday night, mind." "No. No, you can't. I'll get Mum to give you a lift back on Sunday morning; you can still be at Mass by ten fifteen. Please. Please Bernadette!" "Ok. All right. I'll have to check first. Ask your mam, too."
And so it came to pass that on Friday afternoon at three forty five, I led Bernadette up the hill away from school and towards my house. I was so excited, I felt that I was bringing home the prize. I opened the front door and ushered her in. Next I phoned Mum as I always did and confirmed that Benradette was here with me. The previous evening I had stood with cookbook in hand and wrapped in an apron preparing a chicken casserole for tonight. Everything was set; I'd even written out a list of critical times -- "Five thirty: Turn On Oven. Five forty five: Put Casserole in Oven." And so on; you know the way, I just wanted everything to be perfect. Next, I led her upstairs to show her my room. Again, the previous evening I had pushed and shoved the single divan from one of the spare rooms into my room. Pushing my bed a bit closer to the mirror, there was plenty of enough room alongside for another divan. However I had no intention of allowing Bernadette to sleep in that bed; she was going to be sleeping with me, our legs entwined and arms about each other. I wanted to have her, hold her and fuck her.
Bernadette dumped her bags on the bed that I indicated for her. "It's a lovely room. Do you share at all?" "No. What do you mean? There's only me, Mum and Toby." "Oh, I don't know. Just seems big and fine, y'know. What's through there?" she nodded towards the shower room door. "It's a shower room." I replied. "Yer own?" "Yes." "Phew!" she sat down heavily on the bed. "I need you to understand something." "What?" I took a step closer to her and angled my head to the side. "Your family and mine. Y'know, we're miles apart." "I don't understand. What's the matter Bernadette?" "Nothing. I can't explain now. Forget it, it's nothing" and she busied herself up and unpacked her towel and spongebag. "Shall I put them in there?" she nodded towards the shower room. "Yes." I started to get changed out of my school uniform. Off with the skirt, sweater and blouse; I glanced around to see if Benradette was following my lead. She was struggling out of her grey school sweater. I pulled out a pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans which were just the juiciest back then, and a pink LaCoste polo shirt. Bernadette pulled on a pair of ordinary jeans and stayed with her school blouse. We went back downstairs and chatted and played around. I didn't make a grab for her or anything silly like that, we both knew that would come later. Now we were both enjoying being us in private; no pretence or disguise, no hiding our feelings from anyone else. Benradette had relaxed visibly. There was no tension in her shoulders and she didn't once strike her normal pose of arms crossed and legs crossed. She glided and lolled around the kitchen as we got dinner ready. I remembered to turn the oven on at the right time, remembered to actually set the right temperature on the oven and remembered to put the casserole in. Quite a first for me, particularly when Bernadette was there to distract me. She looked wonderful, so happy and relaxed, I realised I was falling out of lust but into love with her. We peeled and cut the potatoes, trimmed the green beans, chopped the carrots together. It was daft and silly, but I loved every chore I shared with her. I felt fulfilled and complete with her beside me.
At six forty five as planned, I heard Mum's key in the front door. "That's a lovely smell to come home to! Hi darling. You must be Bernadette. I'm Rachel's mother - call me Eileen." "Hi Mum" I called over my shoulder from the gas stove, even louder I shouted "Hello Toby!" And I heard a sort of yelp in reply as he stamped off upstairs to play in his bedroom. Soon dinner was ready and we four ate at the kitchen table covered with a yellow gingham tablecloth. Mum opened a bottle of Touraine and poured three glasses. Touraine's not my favourite; it tends to be a bit light and fruity for my taste, but I'm sure Mum selected it deliberately to appeal to Bernadette. She seemed a bit overwhelmed by it, saying " Gosh! Real wine." And I suppose the only wine she was used to was communion wine. We talked and chatted and had a lovely time -- the casserole tasted good, and even Toby wanted more! After the washing up, and after Toby was sent to bed, Mum delved into her work bag. "Look what I got today! Shall we watch it now?" She held a video of `Grease', that awful 70's musical, but at the time Bernadette and I squealed with delight and rushed into the lounge to start the film. Mum curled up on the settee, I sat in my usual place; on the floor, leaning against the settee. And Bernadette sat beside me. The film was silly and quite wonderful! We sang along with the dreadful songs and cried at the appropriate points -- until almost the end of the film when I realized that Bernadette had fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder. Mum had noticed of course, and had she stopped singing. As the film ended, Mum began to rewind the tape. I leant around and stroked Bernadette's arm. She sat up sharply staring straight ahead until she regained her surroundings. "Come on, let's get you to bed." I said gently. She grunted and moved just slightly. I got up and stood in front of her, offering a hand to pull her upright. She grasped my hand and we pulled her to her feet. Still holding my hand, she turned and said goodnight to my mother. Mum looked at us holding hands and said "Good night both of you. Sweet dreams." Upstairs in our bedroom, Bernadette took her things into the shower room. I was a little disappointed, but I said nothing of course. Waiting for her, I got undressed as well and put on a long T-shirt that only just covered the necessary. At last, the shower room door opened and Bernadette stepped out. She was holding her clothes tight to her chest, but I could see that she was wearing old pajamas. They were faded and shapeless with a drawstring waist in the boy's fashion. She plonked her clothes down on the chair beside her bed and made to get in quickly. I crossed to her and pulled her around to face me. "It's the money, you see. We don't have much. So there's not much to go round; so I get my brother's old pajamas and just I hate it!" Her lip quivered and tears sprang from her eyes. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me, her head went down onto my shoulder and she just cried and cried. "We can't even afford the extras at school! I've never been on any of the school trips, we can't afford games equipment or anything!" "But you can afford the fees, can't you?" I asked, rather confused. "No! I'm on a scholarship. If it wasn't for that, we couldn't possibly afford for me to go there. I really wish I wasn't at St XX, I wish I could just be at an ordinary school and just fit in with my kind." "Well I'm glad you're not. I'm glad you're hear with me" I kissed her damp cheek and we sat down on her bed. She cried and sniffled for a few more minutes; I fetched a box of tissues. "Anyway, you won't be at school for ever. We've only got a couple more years to go. And you're brilliant Bernadette, you'll get in to university easily!" "But you don't know the half of it. My Da wants me to be nun, he wants my brother to be a priest. I just want to be ordinary." "What's does your mum say." "She wouldn't dare go against him -- not on something like that anyway." By now she'd stopped crying a bit. "Oh Rae, I'm sorry. I've ruined your weekend with all this." "No you haven't, it's all right honestly. We're just getting started." "It's just that you've got it all here. Nice room, nice house and yer mam knows how to have fun! I'm nothing less than jealous!" "Bernadette, it doesn't matter. It's only things. And I want to share them with you." I wasn't really sure what I meant by that. All I really wanted to do was wrap her up in my arms and rock her gently until it was all better. "Let's go to bed, shall we." I coaxed gently. She nodded and slipped under the blankets, I stood up and flicked off the light. I was thinking about crossing to my bed, but I stopped and lifted the covers on her bed and started to slide in. Bernadette said nothing but shuffled over a bit to give me room. I lay down and she snuggled in to me; her head on my shoulder, my arm around her. We said nothing, we didn't need to. I just held her and loved her as she drifted off to sleep.
Saturday always had a pattern to it. Mum was released from the working grind and celebrated with bacon sandwiches for breakfast instead of the normal rushed meusli. Then she'd get Toby ready for football practice, deliver him to the sports center and go food shopping. This particular Saturday, Bernadette and I awoke to the smell of bacon. "Gosh, but that smells good!" "Hungry?" I asked. She nodded. "Let's go down." I put on my dressing gown and wrapped a cardigan around Bernadette and we went down to the kitchen. Mum was midway through a great doorstep of a bacon sandwich, sitting at the table writing her shopping list. Toby was slurping a bowl of something sugary with milk. "Silly thing to ask I know, but are you going to help with the food shopping?" She raised an eyebrow to me. I shook my head. "No. We're going clothes shopping. All day!" Bernadette said nothing, but I knew she was worrying about money again. I set four pieces of bacon to grill. "Tea or coffee?" I asked. Mum had made a percolator of coffee and the bitter aroma mingled with the bacon deliciously. "Tea, please. Actually no; can I try some of that coffee?" "Of course" I poured two cups and started to cut the bread. "Sleep all right?" Mum asked Bernadette brightly. "Yes lovely, thank you." "Only I saw the spare bed had been moved" mum continued "I thought you'd probably be chatting all night." She looked across at me, smiling. "You should have asked for help instead of moving the bed on your own." "Thought you'd say no', so I decided not to bother you" Mum just shook her head and smiled again. The bacon was ready and I assembled the sandwiches. "Do you want anything in it, Bernadette?" "Mmm?" "Rachel likes to have lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise which makes the sandwich so fat she can't get it into her mouth -- even her big mouth!" Bernadette grinned broadly "Just bacon thanks." I brought the plates to the table and we sat and started munching. "Right" said mum, getting up "Toby, get your football gear on. I'm going to get ready. Rachel, be a darling and do the washing up. Where are you two going today -- I know shopping - but where?" "Probably Brent Cross if that's ok." "Right, ok, but take care." And she gave me a look' as she left the kitchen. We munched on and sipped our coffee. Suddenly I froze. Mum had gone upstairs, she would have to pass my bedroom to get to hers, I had left the door open and Mum would see that only one bed had been slept in. "What's the matter? Did you bite your tongue?" I kept my mouth shut and just nodded. Bernadette just touched my arm in sympathy.
We got the train and bus to Brent Cross by about 10am and started as we meant to go on: shoe shop, clothes shop, shoe shop, clothes shop. You get the idea. I found something I wanted to try on and took it towards the changing room. "Are you coming in with me?" I asked Bernadette. "No, I'll just be looking around here." The changing room was a communal affair and I slid out of my clothes with several other girls -- all sidelong glances and non-matching underwear. I donned the dress which happened to be a halter-neck affair so I'd had to take the camisole top off, and I walked out towards the main shop to show Bernadette. The changing room was shielded by a curtain and I gathered it about me and tried to beckon Bernadette over. At last she noticed me and came over. I dropped the curtain. "What do you think?" "Wow. You look fine, will you buy it?" "No, I just wanted to show you." And I pulled the top sideways to flash my boob at her. She laughed. "You fool, Rae!" But we did find some super t-shirts in that shop. Really large and baggy and perfect for sleeping in. I insisted on buying two for Bernadette so she wouldn't have to wear those awful pajamas.
A few shop later, and we found ourselves in a department store with a proper lingerie and swimwear section. I steered Benradette around the displays looking for something in particular. I picked out a couple of one piece swimsuits that I thought would suit her and casually picked up something that I thought I'd like to try as we went towards the changing rooms. "You're not trying that!" Bernadette was scandalized. "Why not? I've always wanted to see what it felt like, and here's my chance." I'd already checked that there wasn't a shop assistant standing at the changing room entrance. I wouldn't have dared carry in my selection if there had been. Being a department store, the changing facilities were individual compartments with privacy curtains and angled mirrors. They were softly carpeted and there was a tub armchair in each cubicle; very luxurious. I pushed and prodded Bernadette down the corridor and into a compartment towards the end. I pulled the curtain tight behind us and hung the two swimsuits for Bernadette on one hook, and the bra, suspender belt and knickers set for me on the other. The lingerie was in deep red satin with black lace details and decoration, but the knickers had see-through parts each side of the narrow satin panel at the front and the back of the knickers was completely see-through. "I can't believe you're really going to try those on." Said Bernadette in a voice hushed with embarrassment. "Well I am, so you had better watch me. Anyway I want to see you in those swimsuits; get stripping!" I'd selected a peacock blue one piece for her with very high cut legs and a deep-cut front decorated with a false rose. The other one was rich purple with equally high legs, a high neck and a large circular cut out to the middle. There was a tag attached to the crotch of the swimsuit; it read, "To preserve the cleanliness and hygiene of these garments, please keep your underwear on while trying them." We shed our street clothes and Bernadette looked a little surprised at me when she noticed I wasn't wearing a bra. She turned away a little when she unhooked her bra, but I watched her carefully in the mirror. Deep red nipples pointed out from her little boobs very prettily. She kept her knickers on as she stepped into the purple swimsuit and slipped it around her body. She pulled the fabric about and centred the circular cut out on her navel, her low-leg pants stuck out each side of the costume, so she tucked them up inside as best she could. "I'd have to have a bikini-line thingy for this!" There was a little line of dark hair escaping from the suit. She stood between the angled mirrors and studied the reflection of her trim, tight rear in purple lycra. "What do you think?" She asked. "I think you're gorgeous." I replied and she turned to me and smiled. "Not like that, Rae. What do you think of the swimsuit." "I love the colour against your dark skin. Really makes you stand out." I continued stripping as we spoke and now shed my knickers as well. Bernadette looked at me with some surprise as I clipped the suspender belt around my waist, put on the bra and delved into my shoulder bag. Here they were; I pulled out a pair of black stockings I'd bought the previous week and began to slide them on. Now Bernadette sat on the chair and just watched me dressing. Stockings on and clipped to the belt I stood up straight and moved in front of the mirror. It was the most erotic feeling I had ever encountered. I loved the feeling of the straps; the way the stockings sent a faint tug to my waist. My body was clothed and covered from my feet up, but my most secret places were nude and uncovered. I ran my hands over my naked buttocks and up around my stomach. My pubis was framed in red satin and lace like a target. I looked at my back view in the mirror behind. My bum was equally framed by the delicate lingerie and attention was concentrated on the vertical fold between my buttocks. It was so erotic, I was getting turned on. "Wow." I breathed. "Mmm" Agreed Bernadette. I longed to feel the material of the knickers against myself but dared not put them on in case I left wet marks on them. I ran my hands down each side of my fuzz onto my thighs, it was electric. I turned away from my reflection and pulled Benradette up from the armchair. Pulling her close, I kissed her on the lips and ground my body into hers. To my delight, she pushed back and put her arms around me; one hand on my back and the other on my waist. But now her hand was just slightly sliding down as we kissed, below the suspender belt and onto the top of my buttocks, pulling me closer in to her. This was the first time Bernadette had ever touched me and I was almost orgasmic immediately. We kissed again for ages, breaking for air reluctantly. "We shouldn't do this here" she whispered. "And not in these clothes either." "So take them off." I whispered back. She took a half step back and looked into my face as she pushed the shoulder straps of her costume down. She lifted her hands and pushed the top part of the swimsuit down to her waist. The soft cups inside the suit had left impression around and under her breasts. She leant forward slightly and pushed the suit down below her knees and kicked her legs out of the fabric. To my delight she came back to me and slid her hands around my waist. "Tonight." She breathed. "I'm yours." We kissed again and her little boobs pressed against the red satin bra I wore. I could feel her plain cotton pants pressing against my naked stomach, and I really did not think I could wait for tonight. Reluctantly we separated and dressed again. As we left the changing room corridor, we hung the swimsuits and lingerie on the rail and waltzed out innocently.
Next we tried make-up and perfume, and played with it for ages under the haughty gaze of the over-made-up shop assistant or rather `Beauty Consultant' as her badge proclaimed.
After lunch (a sandwich in the café at the center of the mall), we wandered along another aisle of the main mall.
Next we tried another lingerie department. They had an almost identical lingerie set to the one I tried on earlier, but on the next rack, they had something even more special; it was a basque. Black and shiny in satin, it had lines of vertical stitching emphasizing the narrowing of the waist. It did up at the back with rows of cruel looking hooks and eyes. The bra cups were high and quite padded, so the effect would be to push the breasts up to be seen over the top of the basque. At the bottom, the material shaped down to four slender suspender straps, and there was a pair of tiny matching black briefs on the hanger with it. I wanted it. Bernadette watched me fondling the material. "Will you try it?" she asked in a husky rasp. "I think we'll have a go." I turned around to spy out the entrance to the changing room. There was no-one on duty at the entrance, so I selected two, a 34A and a 34B, and off we went. Bernadette came in with me of course, which is exactly what I wanted her to do. This changing room was similar, but with a bench seat instead of an armchair and only one mirror, and the curtain didn't fit quite so well, but I hung my coat on the hook by the entrance and it blocked the gap in the curtain. She made to sit down, but I pulled her up and passed the 34A to her. "This one's for you" "Oh no. Rae, I couldn't. I just couldn't." I didn't take no for an answer and began undoing her trousers. As she stood there protesting and holding the hanger, I slid my hands around her hips and pushed her jeans down. Kneeling down, I lifted her leg and removed her foot from her shoe and slid the rough demin off her leg; the other leg followed. Now I slipped my hands inside the waistband of her knickers. "Would you like me to continue, or will you undress yourself?" I asked looking up to her face. "I'll do it." She whispered. I stood up and waited until she continued undressing before I began taking off my clothes. Now she stood before me in just her knickers and carefully removed the basque from its hanger. She slipped her arms through the straps and tried to sort of tuck the material under each armpit. I saw her struggle and with my camisole top half off, I gathered the two sides of the stiff, restrictive fabric and began to do up the array of hooks and eyes. As I progressed, Bernadette's posture began to change. The basque was making her stand straighter and taller, so that when I had finished, she appeared another inch taller and infinitely more poised. He little boobs didn't make much of a show above the basque, but her waist had narrowed prettily and the basque flared just a little over her hips. Once again, I got the stockings out of my bag and slid them onto her legs, but before I began clipping them to the suspenders, I quickly pulled her white cotton pants down. She made to stop me, but was too late and had to surrender her cover and display her naked pubis to me. I knelt before her and clipped, now I turned her around and clipped the back and Bernadette looked at her reflection on the mirror. Her black pubic hair matched the basque of course, and the darkness of the stockings. I stood and quickly shed the rest of my clothing. Looping my arms through the shoulderstraps of the basque, Bernadette was there behind me to close the hooks and eyes as I had one for her. The basque tightened around me and I felt the warmth of the stiff material contrast with the slight chill on my buttocks and stomach. We stood together before the mirror. "Oh god." I breathed. "Wow" she whispered. I loved the display of my breasts above and my naked pubis below. I loved the constriction, the firmness, the control, the discipline. Here was a physical reason to stand and display strictly. Here was a method of utter behaviour control, no matter what was done to you. Here was extreme eroticism. I loved it. I stood back a little and looked at Bernadette from the rear. The basque and black stockings framed her buttocks beautifully. Firm and pert; I could only imagine how much more wonderful they would be if Benradette had been wearing high heels. She looked exquisite as it was, and I wanted to find an excuse go give those pretty buttocks a really good spanking. Instead I held her by the hips and pressed myself against her bottom. If I had been wearing Maggie's device I would have invaginated her there and then, such was the arousal I felt in that changing room. Bernadette pressed back against me and lifted her hand over her shoulder to caress me, and as she did so her areola peeped above the cups of the basque. She slithered around in my grasp to face me and we kissed. She looked to the side at our reflection in the mirror; her legs covered in black stockings, mine uncovered; our bodies pressed together and both enmeshed by basques. She reached her hands around me and placed one hand on each of my buttocks and pulled me in towards her. She ground her hips forward into me and our pubic hair rustled together. "Wonderful." She gasped. "I like these." I reached behind her and lifted the price tag; I couldn't even afford one of them, and I told her. "So we'll save. I want this for you. Just for you." I looked at her open mouthed. Was she was offering me everything because she loved me? "I can't. I couldn't." "That's what I normally say!"
We dressed into our street clothes again and I removed my coat form the peg. We were just about to leave when I looked across the corridor to the changing room diagonally across from ours. Like ours, the curtain was a little too narrow across the opening. Inside and reflected in the mirror, a girl was shedding clothes. "Look." I whispered over my shoulder. "Lets' see how far she goes!" And I closed the curtain again and peeked through the gap with Benradette giggling and peeking in front of me. Across the way, I could see a blouse coming off and now jeans being unzipped. She bent slightly and pushed her jeans down from her hips, balancing on one leg to pull them from one leg and then the other. She straightened up and looked at herself in the mirror. Bernadette gasped. "It's Roberta Sanderson!" Behind Bernadette I gasped as well. "My goodness, it is too!" Roberta Sanderson. The Prefect who had spotted Hillie's absurd exposure and beat her so cruelly, now here she was before my very eyes. Roberta was well-endowed' with large and prominent boobs, and now I could see them barely restrained by a brassiere. She thrust her chest out and suddenly her bust sagged; she was taking off her bra. She wriggled and let her bra slide down her arms and looked at her reflection I the mirror. Her breasts were simply enormous with pink areola at least two inches across. She raised an arm to brush back her hair and her boob rose at least three inches with her arm. Someone was coming down the corridor and we pulled back, Bernadette closing the curtain in front of her. There was a rustle and a click of hangers -- "Try this first, then this one." Very, very carefully she inched the curtain open with me wrapped around her from behind, eager to peek over her shoulder. The newcomer had her back to us, and was passing clothes in to Roberta. I saw a flash of bright pink and another of purple. The newcomer turned and bustled out of the changing room. Now, just for a few seconds, there was nothing to be seen across the way. But now Roberta stood forward to unhook the pink swimsuit from its hanger. She was completely naked. In front of me, Bernadette gasped and I wrapped my arms around her waist. Roberta had a mass of deep brown pubic hair and was fully on view as she sorted out the pink one-piece in her hands. She bent to step into the swimsuit and her generous boobs swung forward as she did so. I so wished I had a camera. My right hand made its way up to Bernadette's left boob, just for a stroke and a tickle. The swimsuit was now being pulled up and on, Roberta's boobs were pressed into the cups as she passed the straps over her shoulders. But this one was just too small and her boobs were pushed into ridiculous mounds above the neckline. She turned left and right before acknowledging the inevitable and pulling the shoulder straps and cups down. "I wish I had that problem!" whispered Bernadette half turning towards me. I grinned and raised my finger to my lips and nodded towards the continuing show across the way. And now, as Roberta shed her swimsuit to reveal her glorious bush again, I dropped my hand to Bernadette's waist and unclipped her jeans button. Too late she realized what I was doing and my hand was inside her knickers before she could react. With my body, I pushed her forward and upright, stopping her from bending double to frustrate my hand. "Rae! No. For goodness'sake, stop it!" She hissed. I made no reply, but shoved my hand deeper down into her pants and into her luxuriant black pubic hair. Unknowing, Roberta stood naked again in her changing cubicle, sorting out the next swimsuit and I began to finger Bernadette's dampening fold. Next Roberta stepped into the purple one-piece which was very similar to the one Bernadette had tried on earlier, but this one was rather bigger. From our curtained viewpoint Bernadette leant back against me as we watched and I stroked her clitoris gently. Like Bernadette, Roberta's pubic hair burst from the high-cut legs of the suit and she pushed and pulled the costume around to try and hide the most of it. All the while I was enjoying Bernadette with my fingers. Once more, Roberta's helper came rustling down the corridor. "Any good?" "This one's a bit high here; the pink one's just too small across the top." Roberta's helper stepped into the changing cubicle and pulled the curtain closed behind her. Their conversation carried on, but now I couldn't make out the words. I continued stroking Benradette and wondered if I could pull her trousers down to give myself better access. Across the way the zip' of the curtain called my attention again. The helper stepped out into the corridor and we peeked as across at Roberta's mother as she returned to the shop for more swimsuits to try. I looked across; the curtain had been closed more securely, but there was just the slightest gap evident offering a view into the mirror inside the changing cubicle. I could see flesh but couldn't make out what I was seeing. In front of me, Bernadette was craning her neck to make sense of this stripe of pink, too. "Shh!" she whispered to me and very deliberately pulled at my wrist to remove my hand from her trousers. She tugged her trouser zip upwards and glanced over her shoulder to me with a wicked grin before slipping out into the corridor. She tiptoed across, making her way towards that stripe of pink in the gap of the curtain. As she got closer, she suddenly stepped back in shock and clapped her hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She quickly pirouetted to one side and began frantically beckoning me across. Surprised and very curious, I stepped across and peeked in to Roberta's cubicle. There she stood; in front of the mirror; totally naked and gazing at herself. But the biggest shock was what her right hand was doing. While her mother was finding clothes for her to try, Roberta was diddling herself furiously. Bernadette still had her hand clapped to her mouth and as we looked at each other in utter astonishment, I realized that Bernadette was trying desperately not to laugh. Her eyes were glistening and tiny tears of laughter were gathering; her face was going red and her hunched shoulders were starting to shake. She wouldn't be able to stay quite for many more seconds without a loud guffaw, so I shoved her back towards our changing cubicle. "Ahem!" I cleared my throat in the best theatrical way I could and scooted back to our changing cubicle as I saw Roberta's hand whisk away from her crotch in panic. Trying not to giggle out loud became almost painful as we clutched each other for support in our cubicle. Tears streamed down my face and Bernadette was bent double in mirth. I grabbed my jacket and clamped it to my face as I gurgled and spluttered laughter into it. Bernadette's tears now coursed freely down her cheeks as she held her hand tight across her mouth, making muffled `Hee!' noises into her fingers. Slowly, painfully we regained a little self-composure and gathered our belongings to creep put of the changing rooms. Across the way, the curtain was now as closed as it could be and we didn't dare peek for fear of another bout of hysteria.
We wandered around some more still giggling about what we had seen, and dithered over nail varnish and lipstick colours, before wandering back along the mall to the department store again. "I might get that set, you know." I looked across at Benradette walking beside me. "How would you keep it from yer Mam?" She looked at me with some consternation. Clearly she was not able to hide anything from her parents. "There are ways."
Bernadette sat on the bench on the center of the Mall to avoid the embarrassment of taking sexy lingerie to the cash desk. I went into the department store and selected the lingerie set I had tried on earlier, but not in red with black, but in warm grey with cream lace; it seemed more luxurious and less brazen. Taking it to the till, I presented it to the cashier expecting some kind of reaction. But this seasoned professional just a couple of years older than me typed in the code and rang up the price as though it was no more than a tin of beans.
When we reached my house it was nearly six o'clock. I opened the door and ushered Bernadette in. There was a lovely rich smell in the air: lasagne. I waltzed into the kitchen with B close behind me. "Hi Ma!" "Hello you two! Show me what you bought then." And she smiled at Benradette following me as she held out her hand to inspect my purchases. "Got these really cheap, Mum." I pulled out the T-shirts for B without specifying who they were for. "And loadsa makeup! I need it!" "And I got this for me" I opened the bag and pulled the bra half out. "Wooo! That's a bit sexy Rachel!" She winked at B. "Do I need to know about this?" "Mum! It's just nice, and it makes me feel special." "I know, I know." She smiled at me, but then turned her head and smiled very deliberately at Bernadette.
We ate our Lasagne with a green salad and Bernadette had the last glass of the Tourainne while Mum opened a bottle of lovely Barberra. After we had cleared away, we played a daft board game to keep Toby happy. He loved being allowed up late to play silly games in front of the fire; it felt good to me too. I loved the `family' feeling of being together. Soon after Toby was sent upstairs to bed, Benradette and I went up too. I hadn't forgotten what she had said to me in the changing room earlier that day, but I wasn't sure that she would remember.
She took the shower room while I quickly dashed into the main bathroom and dived back into the bedroom, eager to put on my new underwear and the stockings before Bernadette reappeared. I was ready at the moment she opened the shower room door. She held her clothes in front of her, but when she dropped them on her bed, I saw that Benradette was naked. He little boobs were just vague circles on her chest with pretty, pointed ruby red nipples in the center. Her figure tapered down to such slim and perfect hips pointing to a thick triangle of black hair between her legs. I was captivated by her luscious and succulent beauty. She approached me with her eyes down, fixed on my feet. Bernadette was barefoot, while I now wore the highest heels I possessed. I was at least three inches taller than her now and felt totally superior in my special underwear. She reached for me and wrapped her arms about me as if to support herself. Still with her head down, she once again seemed guilty for the desire she so obviously felt. I sat down on the bed behind me and pulled her down beside me. Her head nestled into my neck and her hands remained around my middle. I pushed her back across the bed and moved over her to kiss. We kissed. I ran my fingers through her black hair then down across her shoulder and chest to her nipple. I circled and rubbed it with my fingers, just puling and pinching very lightly. -- it's what excited me and I hoped it did the same for her. Her little red button was stiff between my fingertips; she was aroused and ready. I guided her to lie back on the bed; I pushed off my shoes and glided in beside her. We embraced gently, but still she would not look at me and held me chastely around the waist only. For a moment I wondered if she was ashamed about what she had said to me and didn't want to carry it through, but the stiffness of her nipples in the warmth of my bed and the beating of her heart told me differently. Bernadette was just unsure and uncertain about how to proceed with love. "Just relax and let it happen." I whispered, but she shut her eyes and didn't answer. I trailed my fingers down her chest and stomach towards her crotch. She breathed in sharply as I touched her belly and her grasp on my shoulder tightened. Gently, I pressed her hips flat onto the bed and made to part her thighs. She resisted just slightly for a moment but then allowed me to slide my hand between her legs and to cup her pubis lovingly. We kissed forever. And I stroked and fondled her beautiful fulcrum with love and desire. She was hot and she was wet. But she was also very nervous and not a little scared. As I caressed her, she moved her left hand to my forearm as though to restrain me if I went too far. Now her lips were parted and I paid gentle attention to her clitoris. "Oh Rae. Oh Rae." I moved to kiss her again and slid my tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned and opened her thighs yet wider. Not yet; I didn't want her to come yet. Leaving her clitoris, I slid my ring finger into her vagina; she gasped and stared into my eyes. Gently I pumped in and out, curling my finger forwards. "Oh. Mmm" and her breathing became ragged and laboured. Now her grip on my forearm tightened again and she was almost pulling my finger into her vagina. I withdrew my finger and slid my hand back to her little breast. I rolled her ruby nipple between my fingertips and Benradette shifted in the bed to clamp her thighs around my stockinged leg. She wanted to come badly, but I wanted her attention on me. I lay back upon the bed and pulled her towards me and he shoulders rose and angled towards me. Now it was my turn, I wanted Bernadette to touch me, love me, possess me. She leant towards me and kissed me gently on the mouth and just lightly placed her hand upon my hip. We kissed again and again, but her hand did not move. "Go on," I encouraged. "Just try it." Slowly and deliberately -- and very nervously, Bernadette moved her hand from my hip to my belly. Her hand paused for a moment before inching its way down and under the waistband of my new grey silk briefs. Her fingertips were at the very top of my fuzz and I ached for them to continue their journey further down. The sound of a creaking stair made us both freeze. Another creak and a footfall on the landing. Mum was going to bed. But Bernadette had quickly withdrawn her hand, terrified of being caught in passion. I heard the muffled closure of a door along the landing; all was clear but the disturbance had frightened Benradette away. For just a moment, I lay still thinking. Then I hooked my thumbs inside my knickers, lifted my hips from the bed and slid them over my thighs and off. I reached over to where Bernadette lay silent beside me and pulled her towards me firmly. And as she turned towards me I took her hand and pressed it firmly to my pubic hair. I wanted sex. A little taken aback by my boldness, Bernadette half withdrew her hand, but then returned it to my pubis. I opened my thighs as she nestled closer in to me, burying her head into my neck, and I waited eagerly for her to begin. Very cautiously, very slowly, her hand explored my sex. It was clear that Bernadette had never touched another girl before in her life -- she had hardly touched herself either -- and her hand was now in unknown territory. Her head stayed buried into me as she gently fingered her way around my sex, carefully spreading my inner labia and negotiating up to my clitoris. She gently investigated my protruding pearl, running her fingertips around it before giving it a little rub that made me clench my buttocks and thrust forward to meet her hand. She did it again and again and I began rhythmically to press myself forward to her. I didn't know if I wanted to come yet. I really wanted her to lick me, but I just didn't think Bernadette would have the courage. I wanted something inside me too, but knew that was impossible as well.
But now her rhythm faltered. Stopped, then started again for a few strokes. Then stopped entirely. "What's wrong?" I whispered. "I can't do this. I just can't." Her hand withered away from my pubis. "What's the matter?" I twisted around to face her properly and she lifted her face from my neck as I did so. Her pretty face wore a pained and anguished expression and her brow was deeply furrowed in worry. "I want to Rae, but I just can't. It's all wrong. And I can't think what I'll say tomorrow." "Tomorrow?" "Confession." Defeated, I sank into the bed. There it was again; this repressive shadow darkening her life. I couldn't argue against it, it was her very existence and so deeply ingrained as to block every original or personal thought she had. Bernadette's personality was in that shadow, all guilt and resistance, repression and resentment. I loved her strength of spirit and hated her dependence on religion at the same time.
And although my snatch was screaming out for attention and my lubricant was running freely from my vagina towards my backside, I placed my hand on her cheek and kissed her gently. "It's alright. I still love you. Let's get some sleep." She nodded weakly and nestled in to me. I reached over and clicked out the bedside lamp. But then I sat up again and stripped off the rest of my pathetic underwear and threw it on the floor. Naked, I lay down with her. Once again, I lay there staring at the ceiling in the dark. Benradette lay quietly with her head on my shoulder, but I could feel her eyelashes moving and I knew she was crying.
I awoke first in the morning. Overnight we had shifted and now nestled together like spoons with Bernadette's delicious body backed in to mine. I buried my nose in her hair and reveled in her personal perfume. I smelled her very personality in her hair. I kissed her lightly upon the delicate brown skin of her shoulder. She stirred sleepily and backed her bottom towards me just ever so slightly. That was enough; I felt myself becoming aroused again, but I also knew that it was completely pointless. Bernadette would not, and could not, love me as I wanted.
Mum drove Bernadette home in time for Mass as arranged. As she stopped the car in front of Bernadette's house, Mum quickly assessed the drab house, plain curtains and non-descript neighbourhood, but she said nothing. Off went Benradette, saying Thank you's' and Goodbyes' and we watched her walk towards the front door. Before she got there, the door opened before her and someone unseen ushered her in. Bernadette half turned and waved from the doorstep and we drove home.
"She's nice. I like Bernadette" ventured Mum. "Is she a `special' friend?" "Sort of.." I wasn't giving anything away. Silence for a few seconds. "I thought I heard someone crying on Friday night. Was that you or her?" So Mum had heard. I hadn't been aware of her going to bed, she must have crept up the stairs and just passed my door at the wrong moment. I didn't need to fib, I told Mum the truth, and having seen Bernadette's house she could understand the situation. "Not everyone's as well off as us, " she explained. "You ought to be thankful." Another few seconds of silence as she negotiated a roundabout. "Your father pays a decent amount for our upkeep, and my job pays well, so we're quite comfortable. But not everyone is so fortunate." "I know, Mum." "Luckily for Bernadette, the School has a few free places for outstanding girls, and she is definitely one of them." Nearly home, now. Mum glanced over her shoulder, Toby was preoccupied with his Action Man. "Is that why you both slept in one bed on Friday night?" I went cold. I had forgotten that Mum would have seen that only one bed was slept in. "She was very upset. I wanted to comfort her." She looked across at me. "I understand, darling." We left it at that. But what exactly did she understand? Mum was a solicitor and apparently quite skilled at deciding whether clients were telling the truth or lying. Years later, I still wondered what she had decided about me.
When we got home, the phone was ringing and I scrabbled my key into the lock to fling open the door and make a dive for the phone before it stopped ringing. It was Guy. He was coming to see Vernon next weekend and wanted to see me. Was I free to go out somewhere Saturday night? Where would I like to go? I assessed the situation quickly. I hadn't spoken to Guy for a couple of months, and I bet he had news of Hillie. And I reckoned I could use him to deflect some of the glances and whispers there had been at school. And apart from all that, I wanted to see him. "Take me dancing, Take me to the XX Disco!" `Wonderful! I'll look forward to it. Pick you up about eight, then?" I picked the XX Disco not at random, but because I knew that around half a dozen of my schoolmates would be there. To be seen arriving and dancing with beautiful Guy would do my reputation nothing but good, I wanted to be seen and to show my trophy admirer off.
The week dragged by, but eventually Saturday came around and I made myself beautiful for Guy. And that was one of the oddest sensations; making myself beautiful' for a male. Part of me enjoyed the idea of dressing up specially and part of me was disgusted at the pretence of craving attention and approval from a male. What else was I prepared to do for his approval; kiss him? Yes, certainly. Allow him to grapple' and fondle? Probably, or maybe not. I'd have to see at the time. Have sex with him? No.
I wore black footless leggings -- with the black thong knickers that I bought that day -- an electric blue strappy singlet thing and a peach coloured Pineapple top. Plus loads of junk bangles and hair bands. In retrospect, I probably looked like an archetypal fashion-victim. But I thought I looked wonderful.
Bang on eight, there was a knock on the door and I ran to get there before Mum. It was Guy of course, dressed in tight black chinos, fashionably long in the leg with a heavy oatmeal-ish over shirt open to the mid chest and secured by a belt at the waist. I thought he looked the business. Mum appeared behind me and I introduced them. "How are you getting home?" Asked Mum. "I've got a car -- I'll bring Rachel home, Mrs Stevenson" Interjected Guy before I could reply. I looked at him anew. A car? "What time?" "It closes at midnight, so we should be back by 12.30." He replied. I was impressed, Guy had done his homework and I bet he even knew how to get there, too. "Let's go. Bye Mum!" And off we went to Guy's car parked in the road. Car? It wasn't a car. It was a huge, dark Land Rover; one of the really big square ones with four doors. As I levered myself up into the passenger seat I was so pleased I hadn't worn a skirt. "Is this yours?" "Not exactly, belongs to the estate. So I've got the use of it." "When did you pass your test?" "Two weeks ago!" and he grinned like a maniac. "But I've been driving on the estate roads since I was ten." I didn't really understand what he meant by `the estate'. To me, an estate was a development of houses on little roads, and I was pretty sure that wasn't what Guy meant. "Have you seen Hillie?" I asked. Guy smiled. Yes, he had seen Hillie and she was doing fine. Guy said she was beginning to get beautifully round. She missed me, he said and missed being down south at school, but she was happy and well cared for in Derbyshire. Her parents visited her every few weeks and her Aunt and Uncle were providing everything she could wish for. They lived in a farmhouse with just a few acres of land -- not a real working farm, but a few sheep and chickens. So there was plenty of scope for Hillie to get out and about, Matlock wasn't far away and she was looking forward to a country Christmas. The baby would be due in late April, and I guessed it would be up for adoption immediately. So maybe, maybe Hillie would be home in May or June next year. She'd need help and companionship, and I longed to shower love and support on her. I felt better for knowing that she was well, and my visions of her getting fatter and fatter in a picturesque farmhouse wasn't so far from the truth after all. Guy stopped at traffic lights and I leant across and gave him a peck on the cheek out of gratitude.
Guy had certainly done his homework. He's checked on the map exactly where the disco was and written out his route carefully. We found the place easily, parked and rushed inside with all the other Saturday night revelers.
The disco was heaving, but I quickly found the girls from school -- including Paula -- and made introductions. Paula looked at Guy and was impressed. I could see that she approved of my escort, my male, and I felt my social standing increased! Paula had arrived alone, but looking at her beautiful best, she wasn't short of attention from almost every male in the place. She wore a black sequined boob tube that presented her magnificent bust perfectly. With her blonde hair, she was the disco queen.
We danced and danced for what seemed like hours to all the current raves in the now sweltering heat of the packed disco. Now at last came a slow ballad and Guy and I came together in a clinch'. We held each other closely but chastely and waltzed around in circles for a minute or two. But then a familiar problem arose' between us. Just as had happened at my party in the summer, poor Guy's penis erected like a policeman's truncheon. He did his best to hide it and tried to avoid poking me in the stomach with it, but it was all too evident to me. I don't really know if erections are controllable, or how they happen. But this one was poking out sideways and was seemingly caught in Guy's trousers somehow, causing him serious discomfort. He was trying to wriggle it around and control the wayward member, without being obvious and was having no real success. And so in one disastrous moment of stupidity, I did something utterly cretin-esque. Without thinking any more than wanting to help Guy, I took my hand from around his waist and moved it to the front of his trousers. Once there, I held his penis through his trousers, and helped it to an upright position where it wouldn't stick out so much. It was a simple act; one of charity for a friend. Something was in the way, so I moved it. But. But, at the very moment I moved Guy's penis, the enormity of my actions struck me. Here I was in public, touching -- albeit through trousers -- the sexual member of someone who was not my intimate lover. I could not believe how idiotic I had just been; I could scarcely imagine that I had actually done it. Guy just coughed and ignored my actions, as a gentleman would. But we had been circulating in front of the girls from school and at the decisive moment, Paula and Katie had looked across and seen. I tried not to react, I tried to just carry on dancing with Guy. My hand was back around his waist and Guy was able to stand upright again, as though nothing had happened. But Paula just stared at me with her jaw on her chest. Next to her, Katie was turned around to the others with her hand to her mouth, no doubt excitedly telling them what she had just witnessed. Rachel has just grabbed her boyfriend's willy. In public. Oh god. How could I have done that? Please let me die here and now.
But I didn't die. Life carried on. I would have to rebuild my world and self-esteem in the light of events. I lifted my head and spoke close to Guy's ear. "Guy, I'm sorry. That was utterly stupid of me; I don't know what I was thinking of." I pulled my head back and looked into his face for signs of his reaction. There was a little smile at the corners of his eyes. "Thank you for helping; it got caught in the fly of my boxers. But I wouldn't make a habit of it if I were you- you're friends wouldn't be able to stand the strain!" He grinned at me and indicated towards the girls with his eyes. As I turned to look over my shoulder at Paula -- still transfixed, and Katie and the others giggling and staring, Guy dipped his head to my height and kissed me gently on the neck. I was going to recover.
Apart from that moment of severe mortification, it was a lovely evening. Guy was an absolutely marvelous escort, he opened doors for me, showered me with compliments, danced with me continuously with eyes for no-one else and presumed nothing in return He had even put up with me fiddling with his privates: he must be a gentleman! Now on the way home, we were alone again and could talk. "Guy, that was wonderful. Thank you." I could see him smile in the dark; eyes illuminated by the yellow streetlights and the red taillights of the car in front. "I wanted so much to see you, Rae. Sounds trite, I know. But I did" and he shot a glance over to me, smiled again and pushed back his black forelock with his right hand. Oh god. Where on earth was I supposed to go from here? I was enchanted by Guy's personal charm and chivalry and wanted to be wrapped up tight in his loving arms, but I longed for Bernadette's spirit and body; I lusted after her but adored him lusting after me. We reached my home. He turned off the rumbling engine and reached across for me. I moved towards him and we kissed; I wanted to. Again and again we kissed and his arms enveloped me. Our mouths opened and tongues entwined. I wanted this. His strong hand swept down my side and down my thigh. I thought I wanted it to. "Guy, please." The strong hand trailed up my thigh, over my belly and up to my breast. "Guy, please don't." >From my breast to my waist. Inside the waistband of my leggings; slid around to my back and levered them down. For reasons I don't understand I lifted my pelvis from the seat and allowed him to pull my clothes down. Still kissing, I spread my thighs and his hand invaded me. I knew I was sticky and wet, but I wasn't really excited as he fumbled me about. He couldn't satisfy me -- not his fault, he just didn't know how. Perhaps I was the first girl he had touched -- he couldn't be expected to know. This wasn't for me, I had to stop it now. "I've got to go." He ignored me and fumbled deeper. "Guy, no." "Guy. Please stop. I need to go inside now." His sigh was strong enough to rend the world, but he withdrew his finger and let me go, falling back into the driving seat with a squeak of vinyl. I pulled my knickers and leggings back up. Pushed my hair back and tried to regain my composure. "When are you going back tomorrow?" "'Bout ten. Get home at three or so." "That's not very long at Vernon's!" "Tell you the truth. I came down for you. Only staying at Vernon's for convenience." He shot me a shy sort of grin, then looked away. I leant right across and kissed him with every bit of passion I could muster. "Thank you. That's the nicest compliment ever." "I've got something to ask; we generally have a bit of a party over New Years', will you come? And stay, of course." "I'll have to see. It depends on Mum; but I think so" "Do try. You can come up on the thirtieth and stay for two or three nights, go back on the Tuesday." Guy had it all worked out. I bet he knew what time the trains were. "I said I'll see. But now, `Sweet Prince', I must go. Goodnight." "Goodnight Rae."
I went inside. It was twelve twenty five, Mum was watching the midnight movie. "How was it?" "Marvelous!" "How was Guy?" "Great." "Oh dear, she's in love!" "Oh Mum! Don't be daft, it was just a disco date." But I could feel myself going red. So I threw a cushion at her and went up to bed.
I was so confused I didn't know what to think. I sat on my bed, closed my eyes and tried to imagine Bernadette and Guy; to try and make some kind of comparison and choice between them. But that pointless. With Guy I could be warmed and charmed, proud of his attention and devotion, I could probably even stand being fumbled about in bed by him. But I wanted Bernadette; I loved her soft, brown skin, the perfect way her hair waved behind her ears, her delicate wrists and hands. I wanted to love her but I had to face up to the fact that she would never love me. I could lie back and be fucked by Guy, but I knew I'd still want to go and fuck Bernadette as well. Wasn't that exactly what Maggie had been on about?
_____________________________________________________________________________ Done! This part has taken so long partly because I've been writing about Art School at the same time. Look for that one soon. Tell me what you think please, rachelfrizz@hotmail.co.uk. I'd love to hear as I get so nervous sending these stories in! Bye, Rae.