Biology-101

Category: Romance

Hook: Recent High School Graduates Plan Future Biology Study

Key Words: Outdoors, Swimming, Students, College, Coed, Naked, Virgin, Deflower, First time, Incest

Characters:

Jackson (Jack) Collins: Male lead

Shannon Crawford: Female lead, Tall (Rangy), slim, dirty blonde

George Collins: Jack's Uncle

Mrs. Genesee (Jenny) Crawford: Shannon's mother

Mrs. Martina Dailey: Shannon's aunt, Jenny Crawford's sister

Blake Dailey, Shannon's Uncle (instructor)

Bessie: The Crawford's maid (Mexican)

Disclaimer:

All sexually active characters are age 18 or older at beginning of story.

This adolescent fantasy is told from the hero's point of view (POV). If male POV is not your preference, your time may be better spent elsewhere.

A small creek wandered through my Uncle's river-bottom pasture to the far side of his farm lot. And being a young boy and having Unc's okay, I'd spent much of my childhood's free time annoying the frogs, bugs, fish, turtles, and other critters that lived in that creek.

Now, though, I was a week short of graduating from highschool and had two weeks, more or less free, before my summer job began. Once that day arrived, I better get serious about earning my fees and books if I wanted to attend the local junior college come fall. This left me one more Sunday afternoon of leisure, before focusing on the rest of my life.

Unc's place lay along the far side of the boundary road separating two adjacent school districts, just opposite my parent's farm. That, I assumed, was why I didn't recognize the young girl I found molesting the critters that day in the creek and small spring pond fifty yards upstream from Unc's farm lot.

She jumped when I made my presence known, and made a grab for a couple jars that appeared to have critters already inside.

"What are you doing here?" she said, obviously flustered.

"This is my uncle's place. I come here lots of times."

"Oh."

"I might ask what you're doing here. You have Uncle George's permission, I assume?" I thought her purpose might be swimming. You could do that quite well in a pair of really short, frayed, cut-off jeans like hers and a saggy T-shirt that tried to cover her above the waist but didn't leave much to my imagination.

"Getting some things for my advanced placement biology project. Daddy said Mr. Collins wouldn't mind."

"I don't suppose he would." Uncle George was always agreeable and helpful, the sort of guy who wouldn't mind at all.

"So, what's in the bottles?" I said.

"You won't make me turn them loose, will you?"

"No," I said. "Why would anyone want that?"

"Well, some people are kookie like that."

"Not me."

"Good." She still clutched two bottles to her chest such that her saggy shirt was even less successful at disguising the fact she was no longer a child. Protection for her critters? Or for her?

"So what's that?" I said, pointing, well aware that some sort of mayfly flickered in the bottle she held closest to her chest.

The name she gave me was unpronounceable, so I didn't try. I just nodded.

"And that?" It was some breed of frog too small to play with so I'd never paid them much attention. It, too, had a name that meant nothing to me.

"And that?" I said, pointing at the jar still on the ground.

"Baby turtle. I don't know the Latin name."

"Lucky to find one of those." I'd never seen one so young.

She looked me in the eye, now, half tentative, half curious, I guessed. "Where you live?" she said.

I pointed downstream. "About a mile."

"Oh, that's why I've never seen you before."

"Yep. Other school district, not like here."

"You're a senior?"

I nodded. "How about you?"

She nodded, too.

"You got a name?"

She looked funny for a moment, then said softly, "Shannon."

"Shannon how much?"

I got more of that funny look. "Crawford."

There we'd come to a name I recognized. Ninety-nine per-cent of our valley's residents would have recognized it. That family, the four brothers, three male cousins, and a dozen in-laws ran the most successful farms in the area and the family had done so since pioneer days. The highschool in her district was named Crawford School. I don't know if Shannon's grandparents paid for it, but they could have.

"So," she said. "You got a name, too?"

"Jack. Short for Jackson, thank God not John like the bar drink name."

"Then Collins, yes? I've heard of that name."

I nodded. She smiled. It was a nice smile that went well with her somewhat messy blonde hair, slightly rangy face, and lanky build.

"So," she said, "What your doing out here today?"

"Just killing time, taking it easy, getting psyched for summer work starting Monday after next."

"Graduating next week, right?"

I nodded again. It seemed real easy to be agreeable and in a nodding mode around Shannon— that was her name, right?

"Me, too, but only if I get my Biology project done on time."

"Want some help? I'm not much on bug names, but I'm a fair bug catcher."

"Sure, why not. Maybe you can catch one of those big bullfrogs that make so much noise. They're too fast for me, and my project needs one."

"Too fast for me, too." I grinned, because they were quick jumpers and good at hiding in the pond bottoms.

We didn't catch a bullfrog, but Shannon managed to slip off the log she was teetering on while she tried, fell into the pond, necessitating I rescue her. It was a set-up, and I'm sure both of us knew it. Finally we gave up, and since we were both in the water by now, just swam together.

By mid afternoon, her T-shirt and top had become non-factors, my shirt was off and unneeded. My leather belt stretched from the soaking it got in the creek, and after I hitched my heavy, wet jeans up for the fifth time, she snuck up behind me and pulled them down below my knees.

"There," she said with a modest giggle. "You want my pants off, too?"

Like I said, nodding was easy around Shannon. When hers came down, she had on a damned thong! Oh, she got a kick out of the look on my face!

"Catch me a bullfrog and I'll take it off, too," she said.

I shook my head because I knew there was no hope.

"Come on, Jack, give it a try, okay? I need a bullfrog."

So I did, and made a great fool of myself trying. But no bullfrog cooperated.

By four o'clock the late spring warmth on the pasture along the creek had faded, and Shannon shivered a few times, whether for real or put-on I don't know. Anyway, I was cooling off, too, in spite of Shannon teasing me.

"Come on, Jack," she said. "Help me carry this stuff out to my car, will you?"

Of course I would, including that used up T-shirt she had yet to put back on over her almost nothing, swim suit top. Once back there, she just couldn't get her shirt back on by herself and talked me into putting it on for her. She turned in my arms as I slid it over her shoulders, kissed me, and smiled.

"Good. Now, you got time to take me home?"

"You got your own car." What the hell did she need me for?

"You know, for a graduating senior you're not very sharp."

For a senior I was pretty naive, of that I was well aware.

"What you got in mind?" I said, hoping she'd make some sense of this for me.

"You drive me home in my car and we take these critters with us. You help me with my science project, then we drive back here so you can get your truck."

Sounded a bit convoluted to me. Why not just drive both our rigs to her parents' place, then I go home from there?

"Well?"

"Shannon, why don't ..."

"This will work better. Take my word for it."

So I did. There must be something about bugs and frogs and other critters in bottles I didn't understand. I was quickly learning not to argue with an attractive girl you'd just spent the afternoon swimming mostly naked with in Unc's spring pond.

We drove north from his place, in the direction I knew had lots of

prosperous

looking farms. You know, the ones that make the cover of

Very Successful Farming

magazine?

"Pull in here," she said, pointing up a paved driveway running between split-rail fences that curved between well manicured, park-like lawns on both sides. The house at the end was huge, and although styled after a hunting lodge, still possessed a welcoming hominess that eased my queasiness about this whole situation.

"Pull in there," she said, pointing to an vacant space before an open bay to the five car garage. Only a breeze-way separated the garage from the house, so I figured they must use the garage like part of the house. "We'll take care of my critters in there," She said, pointing at the garage.

I was just carrying her third box of

stuff

into the garage when I tumbled to the fact she'd flown the coop and left me out there alone. So I just stood around awkwardly waiting for instructions as to where to put box #3. When I heard hers, another feminine voice coming my way added a touch of mystery.

"Did you find what you needed, Honey," the second voice said.

"Oh, yes. All the critters I needed—except a bullfrog. But found something extra instead."

"What's that, Shannon?"

"Oh, you'll see in just a minute, Momma."

When I turned in the direction of the sound, I spotted a woman easily Shannon's mother.

"So, who's this?"

"Jackson Collins, George Collins' nephew. He lives over in the Highland School District. He helped me all afternoon catching my critters." Her tone sounded a bit self-satisfied, like I was sort of a trophy. I thought her words skated around our afternoon's realities pretty well.

"Jack? This is my mom, Genesee Crawford. Everyone calls her Jenny."

I came to and nodded. "My pleasure, Mrs. Crawford."

"Same for me, Mr. Collins. When you two get things taken care of here, come in for a sit. Bessie just made oatmeal cookies. They'll need tasting, I'm sure."

"Can't Mom. We gotta go back and get his truck—so he can get home, you know." The way she said that left a lot of leeway and made me wonder why I needed to hurry home.

***

"Get your truck and follow me," Shannon said once we got back to where I'd parked in Unc's farm lot. No explanation beyond

Just follow me.

So I did.

Back toward her family's place we went, me in my truck, her in her whatever that fancy SUV-like thing was she drove. Past the driveway to the Crawford mansion—it still looked like a mansion to me—beyond there into a more remote farmland and orchard area, above the Headland canal, then further and higher up until we crossed the Pump Ditch. I began wondering if I had enough gas to get back.

Just as abruptly she pulled off the cow-track we'd followed for the past mile, parked in a wide spot, got out, stood, and turned back toward the valley from where we'd just come.

"Nice, isn't it?" she said, holding her hand to her forehead as an eye shade.

Yes, it was. The evening sun had eased toward sunset, although it had a long way yet to go.

"So, what you planning to do at college?" she said without looking my way.

"Pre-engineering, I think. Structural, most likely. Or mechanical."

"Biology for me." The way she said that left a hint of question mark.

"Not sure?"

She shook her head.

"What other choices?"

"Maybe study Veterinary Science."

"I don't think vets make much money. At least the one Dad uses doesn't seem to be getting rich. Maybe you should be a people doctor instead of a horse doctor."

"No, too scary."

"What you mean?"

"Suppose I screwed up. It's one thing to kill a ten thousand dollar horse, something else to lose a human baby."

"I see what you mean. Kinda like having your bridge fall down."

"That really happens? I mean short of war or something like that?"

"Tacoma Narrows Bridge. 1940. Look on the Internet sometime. All it took was the right wind."

"Oooh."

By now her hand had found mine, and gripped it as if added strength would have saved the bridge. I returned her grip, but said nothing for a moment. She pulled my hand around, held it high against her chest, and kissed my knuckles.

Let me tell you, that surprised me. Remember, I said I was pretty naive, right? Sure, I'd had a few dates that ended with a kiss or two, but none of those had been instigated by the girl. Shannon's kiss had the flavor of

I'm getting to like you.

Yes, I may have been naive as hell, but I didn't miss that fact.

"Come on," she said. "Let's sit over here." She pulled me toward a pile of rubble that must have begun life as an irrigation flow regulating head-works or something like that. Now it was just huge hunks of broken concrete. The place wouldn't have been the least bit romantic had Shannon not been there. She didn't have to tell me. Her hand led me to sit, and when I looked up, she sat beside me.

"You could kiss me again," she said.

I corralled my naivete and did so. When it ended, she didn't pull back; I did. Our next kiss was another instigated by her. After that, she pulled back and looked me squarely in the eyes.

"I gather you're a virgin?"

"How ...?" I meant how the hell did she know?

"You kiss like you're scared of me or something. Are you?"

I cocked my chin slightly, in effect saying I didn't know if I was or not. My face must have compounded that impression.

"So if it's kiss-and-tell time, I guess I should be honest with you, too," she said "I'm not a virgin, so you needn't to worry about that."

I'm sure my eyebrows shot up.

"Well, don't look so surprised, Jackie Boy. Very few women over highschool age are virgins, and I pity those who are. After all, a virgin can only make love once, right?"

I suppose I chuckled at this truism which suddenly seemed more meaningful than I'd ever thought possible.

"You like the way I look?"

I nodded. Already I was far beyond the

like

stage.

"I like the way you look, too. And I like the way ... what the hell do I mean? I enjoyed swimming with you and playing in that pond while you tried to catch me a bullfrog."

I guess I stared stupidly at her, unable to get my brain to work. I'd enjoyed that, too—a lot. There may have been extenuating circumstances shielding those frogs from my catch attempts.

"You like me enough to have sex?" she said.

Okay, hit me on the head with an iron skillet.

"No?"

I finally got my head to nod.

"Good. I want you, too. I'm on the pill, but if you want, I brought five of Mom's rubbers, too."

This new shock didn't help my befuddled brain one bit.

"Don't look so shocked, Jack. I'm not an everyday lay. I'm only a non-virgin by one time before."

I suppose I relaxed slightly, but she hit me again.

"My uncle popped me."

Did I look shocked? Again? Was that possible? Her uncle? Wasn't that incest?

"My Aunt Tinnie's husband, no blood relationship, so it's okay in this state. Don't look at me that way, okay? He's only eight years older than me."

I shook my head.

"Besides, Aunt Tinnie's real lucky. She thinks he's better than any man she ever knew, and she should know."

WHAT was this?

"She ran away from home her senior year and worked in the Palomino Corral for six years. Several years ago she met Lew there and the rest is history, including my non-virgin status. Oh— and

he

is

good

with a capital 'G,' I can tell you."

I was still shaking my head.

"Does that mean you won't make love with me?"

I didn't know what the hell it meant!

"Tell you what. You come take my clothes off, then you can just think about it while we get to know each other better, okay?"

I must have looked dumbfounded.

"My shirt first, Jackson." Shannon made it plain I was to slip it over her head again, as I had at the pond.

She turned away from me and said, "Now my top. Just undo the bow-knot there in the middle of my back." She turned her back toward me.

Her top went slack.

"Now, slip it off my shoulders and arms." So I did. She laid it on the concrete next to us. As she leaned her back against my chest, her hands found mine, picked them up, and turned my palms so when she pressed them against her breasts, my hands filled. She snuggled her back against me.

"Like that?" she said.

"Yes."

"Well, so don't be so dainty about it, okay? You're driving me nuts with all your barely touching and fooling around."

I had little idea what to do—in the short run, I mean. Other than in Unc's pasture's creek, I'd never even seen a girl bare from the waist up, well, except the very young child who was one of my sisters. What do you do with a chest full of woman and you hands full of very nice breasts. How do you play this game so you don't over play—or under play your hand?

Shannon coached me by releasing her hand from mine holding her breast, slid it down past my belt and with one finger rubbed my—WOW!

"Kiss me on the neck," she said before I got myself sane again. "A sexy guy like you should learn neck kissing. Ears, too."

Right then I was in a

learning

state of mind, so I gave it a try. I'll admit she coached me there, too, but we finally got it together—very well together.

"Good," she said. "I like that. Felt like you were stealing a kiss I wanted you to steal.

So I stole another one, more playfully this time, then pulled back slightly.

"Ooh! That was even better than the first," she said.

So was her second finger investigating below my belt. I must have squirmed. How did she know so well about that? From her one-time-only-with-her-uncle rendevous?

She slid her butt to one side and with it slid her hand over the bulge in my jeans. Centered, she gave it a squeeze and held it.

"I guess this means you like me," she said.

Pretty obvious, I thought. How's a guy my age supposed to prevent that? Good manners be damned!

"I think we should have sex, Jackson. Feels like you're ready and willing."

Well I didn't know about willing on an intellectual level, but I sure as hell was willing on the biological level, and

ready

was obvious.

Her hand came up, rescued her breasts from my probably amateurish fondle, and slipped my hands to her belt buckle. "Take my cut-offs loose, okay Honey?"

Honey

, I was now? I found the buckle and fumbled trying to figure out how it latched.

"Like this," she said, guided my fingers, and in a moment her belt went slack. I noticed right off her belt and shorts didn't slack much. She really was as slim, trim, and solid as I'd assumed.

"Now slip them down so I can step out of them."

I bent a little and pushed them down.

"Yes, like that. You're good at undressing a girl." I hoped I was, being it was my first time.

She stepped out of them and straightened up, facing me this time. "Now my panties. Please."

What else could I do? Follow directions, right?

She stepped out of those, too, standing once again in front of me. She looked into my eyes and smiled. After a moment she turned, slid her arms around my shoulders and neck, pulled me down, and planted a kiss on my lips. Now there was a kiss to fracture any young man's cool. She shattered mine and I guess I went somewhat catatonic.

"You don't mind, do you Jackson?"

I guess I slowly shook my head.

"Good. Now that I've shocked you a little, here's another shock."

I wasn't sure if I could survive another, but bring it on.

"My uncle did more than just pop my cherry, know what I mean?"

Did I?

"See, Mom and Aunt Martina are sisters, Mom's a lot older, right? Mom didn't want me getting hurt and screwed up like she did when she lost her virginity, so she and Auntie Martina cooked up this deal with Uncle Blake. Auntie Martina said he was good, and oh, Jackson, believe me he was! Took him from eight in the morning to the following midnight before he finished. He didn't even pop my cherry until after supper that evening. By then, I don't think anything short of World War III could have ruined my first time."