Spread Thy Close Curtain Love-Performing Night!

The Beginning.

I was crushed. Anger, loss and guilt mingled to make of me an emotional and increasingly, a physical mess.

Those who have experienced the loss of their first love will understand how I felt when I received a letter from Judy announcing she was to be married.

Perhaps I had better explain.

Chapter 1. Cubby Love

I first fell in love with Judy when I was six years old. I was in the same class as her in Primary School when I first set eyes on her across the class room. A pretty little creature with black curly hair and large dark eyes and a brown complexion as if she had a permanent sun tan; it was love at first sight.

There it would have remained because I was far too shy to speak to her. Also at recess time in those days the girls and boys were separated into different “play grounds,” as they were called, so no opportunity presented itself for further contact.

I might, of course, have tried to meet her before or after school, but her mother brought her to school and met her afterwards.

Fortune, however, was on my side. Judy lived in the same street as my family and my mother became a great friend of Judy’s mother, Mrs. Parsons. Thus eventually I was brought into further contact with Judy.

The first time I met Judy, apart from the school room, was when Mrs.Parsons, visiting my mother, brought Judy with her. The two adults chatted as Judy and I stared at each other, once more across a room. Then mother made the usual comment of most parents; “Why don’t you two go out into the garden and play.” No doubt they wished to discuss the latest local scandal not fit for children’s ears.

“Show Judy your cubby house,” mother added. If only parents understood the dangers of cubby houses!

Judy and I duly wandered out into the garden and still unspeaking I led her to the cubby house. Here Judy, with all the wiles of a female three times her age, flattered my male ego.

“I’ve got a cubby houthe too,” she lisped, “but ith not ath big ath thith.”

I, with male instinct for what was required responded, “But I bet it’s got some nice things in it.”

“Oh yeth,” Judy responded, “Ith got a tea thet and a real bed and table and chairth.”

The social ice was broken and from that moment Judy and I became firm friends. The visits between our mothers were quite frequent so when mother went to visit Mrs.Parsons I tagged along, as did Judy when her mother visited mine.

In time we were allowed to visit each other unaccompanied by mothers and in our respective cubby houses over the following years, all sorts of interesting games were played.

These began, I think, when we engaged in the childish curiosity which culminated in, “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

At that stage interest in each other’s genitals was purely academic as we speculated why I had one and Judy didn’t. Then came the time when Judy, having secretly observed her parents in the act of what in later years I knew to be sexual intercourse, announced, “I thaw daddy lying on top of mummy and he wath moving up and down.”

We considered this strange phenomenon but could come to no conclusion as to why her parents should have been so occupied. In order to consider the matter further Judy suggested we should play at mothers and fathers.

This took place in her cubby house with her “real bed,” which wasn’t actually a real bed, but the cut down version of a single bed. Never the less it served for the purpose of our experiment.

Judy lay down and I got on top of her as instructed, then sort of pounded up and down. The effect was unspectacular if not positively uncomfortable so we gave up this attempt and returned to the intellectual speculation of the subject.

It was agreed that Judy would try to see her parents in the act again, and try to find out any further details. I undertook to do the same with my parents.

I think I was more fortunate than Judy when it came to this investigation. From the standpoint of adulthood I can now see that my parents were still very emotionally engaged with each other. Sometimes, when I was supposed to be asleep, I had heard strange cries, whimpers and moans emanating from my parents bedroom.

In addition, there was little of physical prudishness in our family, and it was not unusual for me to see mother or father moving about the house, not quite naked, but in very basic underwear. I had observed some differences between my mother and father in that on occasions when I had seen mother in panties and bra or her two piece bathing suit, I noticed she had rather “large lumps” in front of her chest, and father was less well endowed in this respect.

While on the subject of mother I should point out that as a child I thought her very pretty, in fact, it was Judy’s similarity to mother that probably attracted me to her in the first place.

Whilst I might not have given her this description when a child, I can now say that mother would probably not be described as beautiful or even pretty; if I were to use one word to describe her it would be “striking.” The same brown complexion that I had observed in Judy, dark shining eyes, a nose slightly curved giving her something of a noble hawkish look, full lips with a soft rounded chin and a long neck that reminded me of a marble column.

Her figure is full with breasts tending to the large; narrow waist and wide hips to match her breasts. She said of her figure, “I have to watch it,” meaning that she could easily put on weight. Her legs are shapely and sturdy with narrow ankles and small feet.

I have heard someone refer to her voice as “dark brown,” which I think was a description of its soft alto timbre. I know I have always loved to hear her speak my name, “Hugh”, for she gave it a musical lilt.

My father’s favourite name for her was “Gypsy” that he used more often than her true name, “Hera.”

Mother is a pharmacist who during my childhood worked in the local Pharmacy.

My father is a robotic engineer. He was apparently one of the first to graduate in this specialised branch of engineering, and had his own consultancy practice.

In looks he was the exact opposite of my mother, being tall, slim, with fair hair and penetrating blue eyes. Perhaps it was the very physical difference that attracted them to each other, for attracted they were, being very physically demonstrative, and since I now know what those noises from their bedroom meant, they must have engaged in sexual intercourse frequently.

It was on such a night of ecstatic sounds that I made my first spying foray to my parent’s bedroom, where, as Judy had informed me, she had seen her parents engaged in the mysterious activity in their bedroom.

I cautiously opened their bedroom door. Had I been detected I had my excuse ready. I would announce that my bedroom was on fire.

I was not, however, observed, and the sight that met my eyes nearly made me give myself away with a gasp of amazement. Father was not on top of mother. It was the exact reverse.

Mother was just climbing on top of father and I could see upstanding his penis, or “Thing” as I called it in those days. Mother proceeded to make his thing disappear between her legs. She then proceeded to slowly lift herself up and then drop down again, whimpering as she did so, while father groaned.

Such words as I could decipher seemed to be talking about how they loved each other and could go on doing whatever it was they were doing for ever.

Fascinated as I was by this performance, I feared detection, so having observed thus far, I fled back to bed bewildered as to what all this might mean.

Judy and I having examined each others genitals externally, I knew that Judy had a slit. I conjectured that somehow mother was putting father’s thing into a slit such as Judy’s. From the sounds I had heard I was not sure if they were cries of pain or pleasure, but as they seemed to be enjoying what they were doing, I opted for pleasure.

The very next day after school Judy and I retreated to her cubby house where I related what I had seen.

Judy considered my report for a while then announced we should play “mothers and fathers.”

On this occasion this demanded the removal of our nether garments and Judy climbing on top of me. Endeavour was then made to get my “Thing” into her “Slit”. It was of no avail. My limp organ could make no impression on her little slit so eventually we gave up the attempt, relegating it to the category of one of those strange, unexplainable things adults did. We ended up having pretend afternoon tea together.

Chapter 2. Jolly Boating Weather

The next step in my bonding with Judy came about through our family annual holiday. My parents always hired a houseboat on the river for a couple of weeks, and when I was about eight my mother asked me if I would like Judy to come with us.

I jumped at the idea of having a companion of my own age and particularly Judy, my special friend. Thus over the following years Judy was always with us for our river holiday.

We swam naked in the river, fished, and explored the surrounding woodlands when the boat was tied up usually about mid afternoon.

The boat consisted of a large area at the front with the steering console, dining and kitchen area, and a lounge all melded into one. There were three bedrooms or cabins; two with double beds in them and one with twin bunks. It was in the twin bunk cabin that Judy and I slept in the early days, often laying awake long after we were supposed to be asleep, listening for the ecstatic sounds coming from my parents’ room, and giggling as we conjectured what was happening.

Judy was my special friend, but she was not my sole friend. I had friends among the boys and as the years passed and we shared information, I learned more and more about what happened between mothers and fathers, and not only mothers and fathers. One boy had sneaked a look at a book belonging to his parents that had something to do with sexual love. It apparently had graphic pictures, and he entertained us for a long while describing what he had seen.

Then at age eleven there was the first separation of Judy and me. It was decided that on future holidays Judy would sleep in the second cabin with the big double bed, and I would remain in the bunk cabin. It was a bitter blow to both of us, especially as no explanation we could understand was given.

In addition there was to be no more nude bathing. Swimming gear was to be worn. Again we could get no satisfactory explanation.

The following year the same regime applied, and beneath Judy’s bikini top I noticed the first signs of swelling, that in the following years became increasingly obvious.

From being several inches shorter than me, Judy seemed suddenly to be taller than me. In addition she was no longer so companionable and at times seemed to go into herself and at other times could be quite irritable and scornful, decrying the stupidity of boys and their childish ways.

In the meantime my sexual education had taken another leap forward. One day in an old barn we boys used to meet in, one of the older boys ordered the others to hold me down. My penis was exposed and the older boy announced that he would show us what it was for.

He began to flick my foreskin over the crown of my penis with an ever increasing movement until suddenly I felt what I thought of as a lovely pain. I writhed and groaned but the older boy was derisive. “He can’t do it properly yet,” he jeered, “Here, I’ll show you.”

He began to operate on himself until suddenly closing his eyes he gave a grunt, and a white creamy liquid spurted from his erect organ. When the last dribble had fallen to the ground he gasped, “That’s doing it properly.” We were all greatly impressed.

Thereafter I experimented, trying to reproduce the lovely pain I had experienced, and eventually succeeded. It took several attempts before finally, white cream shot out of me. After that, I felt as if I had truly arrived.

It was at this time my mother gave me her sex talk. I must say it was more about how girls and women are arranged physically, and how they feel, than it was about boys, but I got the main gist of her explanation, which was the meaning and purpose of the sexual act.

At fifteen I had grown upwards so as to once more overtop Judy in height, and after a couple of years of being at arms length with one another, she going off with her girl friends and me playing football and basket ball with my mates, we began draw close again.

By then Judy had taken on the curves of a young woman and I had noticed the increase in size of my penis and the arrival of pubic hair. Clearly our interest in each other had now taken on a sexual content, and I ached for her, and my nightly masturbation had her as its fantasy.

I kissed her seriously for the first time during our annual river holiday, and after that we were constantly entwined with each other. I was in love for the first time, and I think the same applied to Judy.

For a whole year we frustrated each other with our touching and embracing until the approach of the next river holiday. It was then the delights of paradise were opened to me but in a way unexpected.

There had been collusion between my parents and those of Judy. It was not said at the time, but I afterwards came to understand that they feared Judy and I might begin to lead promiscuous sex lives.

To head that particular Indian off at the pass, they decided that Judy and I could begin to engage in sexual activity. To this end Mrs. Parsons had arranged for Judy to begin using the contraceptive pill, and it was my mother who put it to me that Judy and I might like to share the double bed on the boat.

In the meantime, as I later gathered from Judy, her mother had apprised her of the joint family decision. Judy and I were to become lovers with our families blessing.

It came almost as a command, and I was both exultant and embarrassed by the situation. Exultant because I could think of nothing more wonderful than being Judy’s lover, and embarrassed by the way it was to be brought about in so clinical a manner.

I suppose most young people when they first engage in sexual activity get a bit of a kick out of doing it behind their parent’s backs. To be given permission by both sets of parents took some of the spice out of the event, or so I felt.

I was further embarrassed when my mother gave me some explicit advice on the taking of Judy’s virginity, which, she said, “Might prove painful for her and must be done with the utmost sensitivity.” This was followed by the advice on how to prepare Judy for the event, making sure she was well lubricated, to press up against Judy’s maidenhead, and then push in firmly and quickly.

There was still a week to go to the start of the holiday when our cohabitation was supposed to begin. Judy and I discussed the matter then, sneaking into her old cubby house, and in the discomfort of the minimal bed, I took her virginity.

My mother had been right. I had performed the lead up as instructed; kissing Judy deeply, fondling her breasts and feeling her vagina to discover if it was wet. It was all a rather fumbling and uncertain act of love making, and as I entered Judy and felt the resistance of her hymen, I hesitated.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I uttered. “Don’t be silly, Hugh,” she replied, “Someone’s going to hurt me like that some time, and I want it to be you.” So I thrust in quickly and firmly. Judy gave a stifled scream and clung to me. I felt an increase in the wetness around out united groins and Judy said, “I think I’m bleeding.”

My manhood wilted and I quickly withdrew from her. Lighting a stub of candle we kept in the cubby house we saw the result of our union. The rough sheeting that covered the bed had blood on it and my penis was well doused in the gory outcome of our coupling.

Judy, somewhat limp from the breaking of her hymen, made for the house to sneak a shower and hope that there would be no further bleeding. I made for home also with a shower in mind, and to rinse out my underpants which bore some of the stains of our deed.

Behind all this was the feeling of triumph that we had scuttled our parents, careful plans for us. Painful and uncomfortable as it had been, we had pursued our wicked way outside the bounds of parental oversight.

As it happened it all worked out for the best, because on our first night together on the houseboat we had a fairly successful union. I ejaculated into a vagina for the first time, and, although Judy did not have an orgasm, she declared herself happy with the occasion.

Thus began two years of fulfilling sex life as we gradually expanded our knowledge of what love making could offer. Before the holiday was over Judy had her first orgasm, and from then on she rarely failed to achieve her climax.

Beyond the holiday it was understood that I would spend a couple of nights a week at her house, and another couple of nights she came to our house.

Chapter 3. To Be of Service

It had settled into my mind that one day Judy and I would be married and have children. That time was some way off, but that I thought was my future.

The first hiccup in this hoped for future came when we were both eighteen. I was set upon following in my father’s footsteps as a robotic engineer and I was all set to hurl myself into the appropriate university course.

Judy was less enthused by the idea of academic life, and when her parents offered to pay for a twelve months overseas trip she accepted excitedly.

I was appalled. The thought of twelve months separation from one whom I saw as “the love of my life,” seemed insupportable. Judy was adamant. She would have her trip no matter what I wanted. “It won’t seem long,” she said, seeking to console me. “We shall be together again when I come back.”

Now followed oaths of fidelity promising that we would withhold ourselves from all sexual activity until we were together again. On the day of her departure there were copious tears and more promises of faithfulness.

Disconsolate as I was, I had before me what seemed an exciting academic life studying subjects I was strongly committed to. Unfortunately our own State Universities did not have the appropriate courses, so I applied for and got accepted into a university in another State.

This meant living away from home and I made the decision that I would not ask for entrance to one of the university residential colleges, but would seek a suitable place to live a more independent life.

Accordingly I contacted the university Accommodation Department early and was quickly offered a place with a Mrs. Lawson. “She’s a widow,” the Accommodation Officer informed me, “and she has had a number of students before. They all expressed themselves very satisfied with the service they received.

At a surprisingly cheap rate I got a study, separate bedroom, my own bathroom and three meals a day provided, with no limitations on my coming and going.

I arrived to take up my new quarters a week before the University year began. The accommodation was even better than I expected, well and tastefully furnished, and Mrs. Lawson’s cooking was excellent. “Mr. Lawson was always very particular about his meals,” Mrs. Lawson informed me; “and just call me Audrey.”

Audrey proved to be a widow in her early fifties, or so she informed me. Tending towards plumpness with a well rounded figure and dyed blond hair, and with ripe red lips, she didn’t look her age.

Mr. Lawson, it seemed, had been a successful plumber who, having made a packet of money had bought an elegant nineteenth century house into which he had poured the excellence of his plumbing skills, hence my personal bathroom. It had the additional advantage that it was only five minutes walk from the university.

Mr. Lawson had been some twelve years Audrey’s senior and soon after moving into the house of his dreams he died, no doubt from his lifetime of plumbing exertions, leaving Audrey to enjoy the fruits of his toil. This seemed to include some considerable financial investments, because although the house could have taken at least four more students, Audrey, as she informed me, did not need the money and only took one student each year “So as to be of service,” as she put it.