Disclaimer: Brenda is eighteen, Charlotte is thirty-nine, Frank is forty-seven, Jack is nineteen, Adella is eighteen, Frank's friend is forty-two, Pastor Brown is fifty-five, Frances is nineteen, Lacey is eighteen, Geraldine is thirty-eight, Mrs. Judith Bloom is thirty-two, Mrs. Sarah Bloom is forty, Mr. Bloom is forty-five, Mrs. Applegate is forty-one, Mrs. Flint is thirty-seven, Ben is nineteen, and Prince Albert is dead. The term "teenager" applies to people whose ages are thirteen through nineteen, inclusive.
Brenda came home from high school and slammed the kitchen door, even though her mother Charlotte had told her at least a thousand times not to. Brenda's father Frank was still at work in the city, and wouldn't be home for hours yet, probably not till very late. Charlotte was at home for her daughter, of course, since she only did her volunteer work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and this was a Friday afternoon. Here in Plainville, most families were well-off enough that the mothers were able to stay home to take care of their children after school, fortunately for the children.
"Mom, Mom, I've got the best news! You remember that boy Jack Adams that went with me and my friends to the movies last week?" Brenda's voice was filled with enthusiasm, and Charlotte knew that whatever Jack Adams might mean to Brenda now, it was something well worth her while to find out.
"Sure, dear. What about him?"
Brenda told her in an exaggerated stage whisper. "Don't tell anyone yet, but he's asked me to go parking with him."
"Wow," said her mother. "That really is news." It would be Brenda's very first date with a boy. "Do you like him?"
"Of course I do. I mean I don't just like him, I like him like him."
Charlotte smiled internally at Brenda's typically teenage way of speaking. She decided to play dumb, just to help her daughter be a little less self-centered for a change.
"Oh. And does that mean you are going to say yes?"
Sometimes mothers could be so dense. "Mo-om! I already did! That is if it's all right with you?"
"Well, I thought so. Never mind, sit down and tell me all about it."
Brenda sat down at the kitchen table with her mother. She changed her tone from enthusiasm to concern.
"Mom, you know, when I was having pleasure with Adella Tucci last Tuesday after school?" Brenda hesitated, apparently not sure how to go on: Charlotte decided to just listen carefully.
"Yes? Did everything go well?"
"Oh, sure .... But that's not what I meant. She told me that it's a mortal sin to do anything sexual with a boy. Mom, is that really true, or was she just pulling my tits?"
Charlotte was shocked by her daughter's use of vulgar slang. "Brenda, don't you use language like that with your mother." Brenda hung her head in silent apology. After a short pause, Charlotte relented. "But to answer your question, yes, it probably is a sin -- for her."
"Re-eally?"
Charlotte wasn't sure if Brenda was being serious or subtly sarcastic. She chose to treat the question as a serious one that deserved a serious reply.
"Yes, really. That's because the Tuccis are Pathoricks, honey. It's against their religion for a woman to have pleasure with a man unless she's married to him. Or at least engaged."
"That must be hard on Pathorick boys and men, Mom." Brenda sounded amazed.
"Well, I suppose it is." Of course, there was no reason for Pathorick boys or men to abstain from pleasure with women of other faiths, and Charlotte knew very well that most of them didn't. She smiled at the memory of a certain friend of Frank's who had brightened up a tedious week while Frank was away on a business trip. Charlotte also suspected that Frank had enjoyed the company of a colleague's wife, or perhaps a co-ed or two, while he'd been away, but she felt quite secure that he would always be faithful to her.
Brenda smiled a bit wickedly. "Well, I guess it's a good thing for them, then, that most of the people in this country are Protestors. We believe the Bible means what it says about 'uncovering nakedness', right Mom?"
Charlotte knew that Brenda knew the answer perfectly well from Sunday school and the preaching of Pastor Brown, but it never hurt when dealing with a teenager to reinforce the message.
"That's right, dear. So you make sure that your friend Jack doesn't get carried away and actually uncover your privates."
Brenda replied promptly, "Oh, I'm sure he won't, Mom."
Charlotte thought about Jack for a moment and what she knew about him. She didn't actually have serious cause to worry about his morals, after all. "Well, he has been well brought-up, that's true -- I know his mother well. Very well, in fact."
"Mo-om!" That was way more than Brenda wanted to know!
Charlotte didn't reply, and Brenda reverted to her earlier serious mood. "Umm, I know because of what Pastor Brown says Jack can't, umm, do cunnilingus on me. That would be uncovering, wouldn't it?"
So Brenda still felt it necessary to ask rhetorical questions. The poor dear must be nervous, Charlotte thought, and desperately trying not to show it. "Of course."
Brenda hesitated a long time before her next remark. "But there's a problem."
Charlotte felt a rush of concern for her daughter. "What's that, dear?"
Brenda twisted her hands together. "I can't come, I mean have an orgasm, from mast -- mast --"
Charlotte felt a smile internally, but carefully didn't allow any trace of it to show on her face. She must not allow her daughter to think her mother was laughing at her. "Masturbation, dear. Really? I mean, are you sure?"
Brenda switched from hesitation to rush. "I'm sure, Mom. I mean, Frances tried it and so did Lacey, and then Adella, and even Mrs. Tucci tried, but --"
Charlotte raised one eyebrow, and decided to change the subject slightly, to try to build some rapport between herself and her daughter. "You had pleasure with Adella's mother? And how was she?"
Brenda's rush of words went on, though their topic was successfully diverted. "Pretty good, I mean, she had lots of enthusiasm even if I could tell she hasn't had so many partners. I can't imagine why, she's really pretty."
Charlotte agreed that Geraldine Tucci was really pretty. Still .... "But she wasn't able to satisfy you?"
Brenda thought about it for a minute. "Not really. I mean, it felt great, don't get me wrong, but it just didn't build up to an orgasm, and I could tell it never would, not in a million years. I ended up having to masturbate myself instead." Brenda blushed.
Charlotte immediately spotted the blush and hastened to reassure her emotionally vulnerable teen. "Well, that's not so uncommon. All women aren't alike in what they enjoy and what they'd like to experience." She reached out to put her hand on top of her daughter's knotted hands and was rewarded by seeing Brenda's face lift a little, perhaps also at being referred to as a woman by her own mother. "But with cunnilingus you have no problem?"
At that question, Charlotte un-knotted her hands and actually smiled. "Not a bit, Mom. When I'm feeling all stoked up, it usually only takes a few minutes. Especially when it's with someone like Mrs. Applegate or Mrs. Flint." Brenda named the women of the two immediately neighboring families. "I mean, they really, really know how it's done." Brenda had wished that Mrs. Tucci would learn "how it's done," too, but of course it wasn't a teenager's place to try and teach her. "My friends are awfully sweet, but they just don't have the same kind of experience, I guess."