THIS CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED SEX.
Part 1: The heart wants what the heart desires.
His was the first proper penis I ever saw. We stood facing each other at the bottom of the bed as I watched him slowly remove the last item of his clothing and nervously stand before me as he clasped his hands self consciously in front of his unfurling manhood. He stared at the floor for what seemed an age then, breathing deeply, he slowly let his hands fall away to reveal his sex to me. My heart was racing and the flushing waves of desire and lust washed over me as I stared at him naked for the first time as he began to unfurl and grow.
The size and weight of his organ swelled and dropped down with the covered crown emerging into a shaft of sunlight like an awakening snake. We were both staring as this thing became everything between us. I lifted my gaze to his face and our eyes met. He smiled shyly, almost apologetically, and raised his hand for me to take. I felt the blood thundering through my veins as I slipped my hand in his and let him lead me to my Grandmothers bed.
*
First there was nothing. Then there was me. After God dipped me in the gene pool, I emerged into the world nine months later wide eyed and as quiet as a church mouse to delighted parents.
Time passed and the years rolled by through the "oh, isn't she a beautiful little baby!" crawling years to the "look at you, you're a real cutie!" formative years and on through the "oh my sweetheart. Ain't you something. You're going to break all the boys hearts!" teenage years where puberty and mother nature sprinkled their magic upon me. I was constantly reminded that I had gone beyond being pretty into something that meant so much more to the world around me. The eye of the beholder would always glance my way.
What I looked like colored my every day life and how I interacted with those around me. It was as if I had this invisible aura that drew surprised glances wherever I went and conversations would stop if I entered a room or walked on by. So from my early teenage years, when those gene's began to do their thing, I knew I was different to others. Inside, I was just me. Normal. Quiet. Sensible. Bookish. That was just who I was and I wore my appearance like a warm summer breeze.Though I began to wonder if there was more to me than met the eye as I got older. Was there some life thread I could pull that would explain and make sense of the things around me? When I was about twelve or so, I was with my mother visiting Gran as we did most weekends when an idle flit of curiosity crossed my mind as I sat looking out of the sitting room window day dreaming about girlish things. "Gran," I asked. "Who do I look like?"
She looked at me from the sofa where she was sat with mom making small talk. "Look like?"
I nodded, both elbows on the table and resting my chin on up turned hands. "Mom says I take after her side. Will I end up looking like one of you when I grow up?"
"Ah," she smiled as she got to her feet and went over to her bureau which sat in the corner of the sitting room and where she kept all her "knick knacks and "oodles of doodles." She returned with a large box and removed the lid. Inside were rubber banded bunches of old photographs. "Here we go. I can't believe I haven't shown you these before now. Now let me find, ah, there she is." She handed me a faded sepia photograph with the image of a young girl of about thirteen on it. "That's your great Grandmother. My mother." A curious smile was on her lips as she watched my reaction. "She lived a long time ago. She would have been about your age when that was taken. Maybe a little older." My own mother came to my side and put her arm around me.
I stared at the girl staring back at me. She was stood in what looked like her Sunday best; a ribboned dress down to her knee's with black stockings down to black buckled shoes. Her hair was below her shoulders and curled around her face with a bow tied at her crown. She was staring at the camera with an intensity that was utterly captivating and it was that stare which drew and held the onlooker as if time stood still. Her eyes were wide and dark as night and framed with even darker lashes that gave her a piercing hawkish stare. A pert nose, high sculpted cheekbones, flushed cheeks and a firm determined mouth completed the picture. I glanced up at my mom with a frown. "Doesn't she, I mean, she looks like..."
My Gran laughed. Mom reached up and ran her hand through my long, curly auburn hair. "Yes she does and yes you do, sweetie."
I looked at the photo. The resemblance was uncanny. So that was where my essence came from. It was then my Gran handed me another photo of her mother. My mouth dropped open in surprise and I looked from my Gran to my mom. "Oh," I gasped. It was the same girl but older.
"Eighteen." my Gran said. "Isn't she beautiful?"
I nodded. She was beyond pretty. Even in monochrome she appeared to be glowing as if lit by some internal light. She was smiling at me as if she knew one day I would see this photograph. I bit my lip as I felt a well of tears and ran over to give Gran a hug. Was I going to look like her when I grew up? "Her name was Jennifer." she whispered giving me a pat on the back.
I jerked back and gasped with surprise. But that was MY name! Mom rested her chin on the top of my head as I sat looking at my ethereal twin. "Uh huh. Now you know." she smiled.
*
My time at school was a most interesting affair. As each year passed, I found myself becoming more and more the centre of attention. I had turned into a bit of a bookworm. Inquisitive, curious and always keen to expand my world and learn knew things. I wasn't shy or bashful as such but I kept myself to myself with only a small group of close friends and we'd do all the things that normal girls do through first, middle and High school. Those close friends would look out for me and I always had this strange feeling as if they felt the need to protect me. That they knew I would need protecting from others.
As I entered High school and the itchy sweaty days of puberty arrived with much irritation, I began to realize the effect I had on the opposite sex. Where ever I went I could feel their eyes on me as I made my way through the school corridors, whilst sat in class or during dinner hour in the cafeteria. Dinner hour was the worst as the room would be full of different year groups and unfamiliar faces that would be sat in whispering and nodding huddles always looking over to where I sat.
That boys found me attractive was obvious and many a time in class I'd look up from my desk to see someone quickly glance away. Then there were the the boys that other boys looked up to or feared. Knuckle dragging assholes as my best friend Sally would call them. The guys that fancied themselves as something special. Sometimes I'd be sat with friends outside on the school lawn just enjoying the break when the mood would change and some Joe Sixpack and his buddies would stand over us and play the dating game. Joe would stand there, chest puffed out like a preening peacock and try to win me over so I would go out with them. My friends would give each other knowing looks and come sit around me. "How's about it?" they'd say. "I'd treat you right. Show you a good time. A movie maybe. You choose. I'm easy." Raising my face to them, I'd just smile politely and slowly shake my head. Then I'd just stare until they backed down. Watching them frown and lose whatever gumption and spunk they had to begin with. It never failed. They'd blink, stammer and stutter then back away to save face. My friends would burst into laughter at the drama but once in a while they'd look at me like I had lost my marbles; "He's hot." they would gasp. "Don't you fancy him?"
I'd sigh and get to my feet shaking my head. "Nope, he's not for me." I'd reply. And they weren't. That most of the boys fancied me I could tell. It was their tough luck that I didn't fancy any of them. I was waiting. When the right one came along I'd know. Till then I'd just smile and stare. Sally was the only one who didn't ever say anything and kept her opinions to herself.
That attitude took me all through my school years until I reached the age of eighteen with my first year at college where everything changed.
*
College was on the western edge of the big city. About a five mile bus ride from where I still lived with my parents. The main complex was a seven story block which taught everything under the sun from Astronomy to zoology. A love of English language and literature found me attending classes three times a week for what would be a two year diploma course which would set me up for University.
The first class of September arrived early on Monday morning and I found myself sat on the sixth level in a tiered auditorium like classroom with a close friend from High school which was kind of a relief as it was nice to have someone to go through the new routine with. But some things never changed. From that first moment when I had entered the main building I had that familiar feeling of being watched again as we made our way to class. I kept my head down and followed Sally who found us a pair of seats together. As I walked up the steps, I could sense eyes following me. Guys turning in their seats as I settled in my chair where I pretended not to notice and fiddled with my registration paperwork as I searched for a pen in my bag. I glanced at Sally who was sat there with a big grin on her face. I gave her a nudge and made a face. "What?!" she exclaimed then grinned at me. "They're like moths to a flame!"
The Eng Lit teacher was a fiftyish, refined, linguistically delightful lady called Miss Elsender who was light on her feet, endlessly enthusiastic and full of wit. The class was from nine till mid-day and she spent that first session spelling out the nature and content of the course and the requirements needed in order to achieve a pass.
As the morning wore on I found my concentration drifting and my gaze wandering around the room surreptitiously checking out my new classmates. There were about twenty eight all told. Fifteen boys. Thirteen girls including me and Sally who was already grumbling to herself as she went over the workload for the coming month or so. My day dreaming was ended when Miss Elsender asked for our registration forms to be passed down to the front where they were to be collected and after they were gathered she stood in front of her desk and read out the name on each form so she could put a name to a face. As each name was read out I felt myself blushing as I waited for my turn. I frowned and told myself not to be silly but I knew what was going to happen because it always did.
"Jennifer Hanson?"