Marcie's First Handjob
The two girls were leaving the auditorium following a rehearsal for the Fall concert the University held every October. Laura decided to tease Marcie as it was almost her favorite pastime other than sexual activity.
"So technically you're still a virgin, right, Marcie?"
"What do you mean technically?"
Laura laughed and said, "I mean, you ain't been boned in your cooch. That's what I mean."
Marcie felt the flush spreading upward and knew her face revealed her embarrassment at being put in this position.
"I'm not a virgin as far as you're concerned, Laura!" she spat out.
"Lord knows that's true!"
"You needn't bring the Lord into this conversation, Laura," Marcie said huffily.
Laura laughed and said, "You really need to get laid, girl."
"What! Well you've got some nerve. I'm saving my virginity ..." she caught herself and tried to change direction, but realized belatedly she couldn't and mumbled "what's left of it, anyway."
"Oho!" Laura cried, "Me thinks you protest a little too much my pussy licking friend."
"Was that Shakespeare you were just quoting?" Marcie asked sarcastically.
"No," Laura said with a smirk, "Just your tongue wagging the dog."
"What's that supposed to mean? Marcie asked, confused once again by her trombone playing roomie.
"It means you need to get laid. That's what it means."
"No--no, I don't ..."
But Laura was off and moving fast, forcing Marcie to run after her. When she finally caught up, Laura stopped and confronted her.
"Tell me the truth, Marcie. Have you even given a guy a handjob?"
"What? No!"
"Well, we'll have to fix that. It shouldn't be all that difficult. Let's change into our slutty outfits and hit one of the off campus bars.
She noted with interest that Marcie hadn't objected as they reached their dormitory.
"I don't have a slutty outfit," Marcie said abruptly, breaking their mutual silence.
"No? Well we're almost the same size. Hmmm" Laura said thoughtfully as she rummaged through her things. "Here try these on," and tossed a well worn pair of cutoff jeans at Marcie, hitting her in the chest.
Holding them up appraisingly, Marcie commented, "Were these ever washed?"
"Oh, fuck you, with your cleanliness vamp, lady. When's the last time you carried your laundry out to the Laundromat?"
Marcie blanched at the cutting remark because it had been a while and her dirty clothes lay in a big pile in the corner of the room.
"Sorry, I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?"
"Damn right! So tell me, do they fit?"
Marcie wriggled out of her jeans and then squiggled into the tighter fitting cutoffs. "God, I don't think I can close the fly on these," she lamented.
"Sure you can, just suck in that tummy and see what happens. I do it all the time."
It took two tries but Marcie managed to close it and then let out a worried breath. "What about my top?"
"Anything tight will do, Marcie. "How 'bout that yellow thingy? It clings to your boobs, really highlights them."
"Mmm, okay! Is this bra okay with it?"
Laura moved to her side and gave each breast a loving squeeze before saying, "Yeah that should do the trick.
Laura dressed in similar fashion and they got into Laura's VW Bug and drove to Nipper's Bar and Grill just off the interchange of 95 and Glades.
They had agreed it was far enough from the campus to help avoid running into anyone they might know. Stupid of course, as they were only two and a half miles from the school and anyone with a car could easily get there. But that wasn't what really took them there. Laura remembered one wild Friday night and loved the tons of rowdy guys present.
Laura was positive Mr. Right would be there for Marcie and possible a partner for herself as well. As she drove she recalled giving her first handjob as well as her first blowjob to Dickie Marshall in one such place following a high school dance. To her way of thinking this was the perfect place for Marcie to experience her firsts as well.
Nipper's was not packed with rowdy guys as Laura promised. The men sitting at the bar were, or seemed to be in their fifties or older, and a major disappointment to the girls. To be fair, it was early and not the weekend. On the upside, their fake ID's were found acceptable and they sat at a table nursing beers and hoping Mr. Right would saunter in at any moment.
Just when Laura was deciding to approach one of the fifty-year-old men with a proposition that Marcie give him a handjob, a younger guy walked in and sat at the bar. He was carded and presented proof that he was 21 and ordered a beer.
Laura was beside herself and Marcie had to prevent her from running over and dragging him back to their table. "Look at him, for God's sake!" Marcie hissed. "He's not 21, he's like 15 or 16! He a kid!"
"He's not a kid, he's a man," Laura argued, "the bartender carded him and he passed. He's gotta be 21 or older!"
"Well he's not. Not in my book anyway!"
"I'm gonna go ask him," Laura said and got up from the table.
"Wait! Don't!" Marcie pleaded, to no avail. Laura was on her way to his side.
Halfway to the selected male, Laura realized she hadn't rehearsed what she was going to say and decided to wing it.
"Hi didn't we meet at the Grendell Walker concert last spring?"
"Huh?" he said surprised that anyone had bothered speaking to him, much less a terrific looking babe.
"Oh, I was sure it was you--you look so much like him. Um, I'm sorry, my name's Laura," she pointed at Marcie and said, "that's my girlfriend Marcie sitting over there."
"Yeah? Well, I'm Timmy, everyone calls me that, and I'm pleased to meet you both."
"So Timmy, the real reason I came over here is that ... don't go getting crazy when I tell you this, but ... we have this bet going, you know? Um, she says you can't possibly be a day older than 16, and I say you're at least 21 or 22."
