As I mentioned in chapter one, my time with Maya in the computer lab was not my first sexual encounter. That honour went to Courtney.
Courtney epitomised grace and beauty, and I had loved her since I set eyes on her at the start of secondary school. She had always been physically more mature than other girls, and at eighteen was tall and slender, with perfect, pale white skin, shoulder-length blonde hair, and large breasts.
I had been on the verge of asking Courtney out many times since we first met, but I found her beauty intimidating, for want of a better word. She could have had any guy she wanted; why would she want me, the shy nerd?
That question was answered as the end of my first senior term neared.
I turned eighteen a couple of weeks before the end of the first term. Courtney was a few months older than me and had turned eighteen over the summer break.
As the end of term approached, our German teacher, Ms O'Morin, had given up trying to teach us, so we were all chatting about our holiday plans.
The desks in Ms O'Morin's classroom were arranged in rows and columns of two desks each. Courtney and I were sitting on opposite sides of the classroom, and she was a row further back from me.
I was being bored by John across the aisle about how he was visiting relatives over the break, when I saw Courtney tuck her left leg under her and put her right foot on her left ankle, forming a triangle with her knee pointed to the ceiling.
I stared, trying to process the scene. I had an unobstructed view up Courtney's plaid skirt to the top of her pale thighs and her pink lace panties running between her legs. I was surprised at her immodesty, but realised she probably forgot that she wasn't wearing slacks.
(Those who have read the first chapter may remember that Maya had also worn pink lace panties. It seemed popular among girls at my school, and this is probably why I have developed a mild fetish for them.)
I soaked it in for a moment, then excused myself from the conversation and walked across the room. Courtney had her back to me as she talked to her friends, so I bent down to her ear.
"You're not wearing slacks," I whispered.
She froze, then turned to face me. Her face blushed and she slowly lowered her leg, thanking me quietly. I simply smiled with a shrug and returned to my desk; I'm not sure what explanation she gave to her friends.
A few periods later I was alone in a senior study room. The school had a number of these small rooms reserved for senior students to use when they had study periods. Apart from a small window that looked out over the school's main walkway, there was no way to see in from the outside unless the door was open. I liked the isolation.
While engrossed in my mathematics homework, I heard a knock on the door.
"Come in," I said flatly, disappointed to have my peace disturbed.
I didn't look up as the door clicked open and someone walked in, closing the door behind them.
"Hey, I thought I'd find you here!" they said.
I recognised Courtney's sweet voice and looked up, suddenly smiling.
"Hey Courtney. What's up?"
"Well ... I wanted to ask a favour. Ms O'Morin says I need to improve my German significantly or I risk failing the class. I was wondering if you could help me?"
"Uh, sure," I said, clearing the desk next to me. "I was just about to take a break from Ms Johnson's mathematics homework. It's almost the holidays, but she's not easing up!"
"I'll let you finish then," she said, sitting next to me. We were just inches apart and I could feel the warmth radiating between us.
It was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of my pen.
Courtney eventually broke the silence.
"You know," she began, "I wanted to thank you again for earlier. You were right: I totally forgot I was wearing a skirt!"
"No problem," I said, not daring to look up as my face flushed.
There was a pause before she continued.
"I bet you got a good look though, didn't you?"
My face was burning. I knew I had to say something. I turned to look at Courtney. Her head was tilted to one side.
I couldn't speak, so I just nodded. Courtney grinned, showing her perfect white teeth.
"I thought so," she said softly.
"You'll have to forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive."
I was relieved. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was a creep. On reflection, the fact that she sought me out — despite her questioning — should have told me there was no wrong answer.
"How about that German?" I asked, changing the subject. I pushed aside my mathematics books and picked up my German reader.
Courtney shifted closer to me and we began to read, pausing now and then so that I could answer her questions or explain difficult sections.
I absentmindedly let my hand drop into the narrow gap between us. I was startled when, a few minutes later, what felt like a spider started crawling over my hand; but then it took grip and I realised that Courtney had taken my hand in hers.
I turned to her with a quizzical expression on my face, but she just looked at me and smiled, then turned back to the book.
My hand rose in hers and she placed it on her thigh, just below her skirt. I waited a moment, then squeezed gently. I stroked her thigh instinctively, brushing against the hem of her skirt, but being careful not to explore too far. My inexperienced member hardened.
