Johnny Be Good

When I was in junior high, I had this incredible crush on my Uncle Johnny. He's my mother's younger brother, and kind of the black sheep in the family. Johnny ran with a rowdy crowd in high school, and always seemed to be in some kind of trouble--underage drinking, smoking pot, truancy, drag racing; you name a way a teenager could get into trouble and he was into it. He was what they called a "greaser."

Johnny is ten years older than I am; he's twenty-eight, and I just turned eighteen, right before I graduated from high school. I was thirteen the last time I saw Johnny. He had joined the Marine Corps, and was shipping off to Afghanistan. My Mom said maybe the Marines would shape him up and straighten him out. I was afraid for him, because my father had been killed over there ten years before.

It was just Mom and me after Daddy died. Some women fall to pieces and some turn to drink. My Mom turned to Jesus. Big time. She's always gone to church, but when she became a widow, it became her full-time avocation. She switched from a Baptist church, which was conservative enough, to some fundamentalist holy-roller congregation.

She made me go to church with her on Sundays, and I hated it. The preacher would scream at everybody and tell us to "repent" for all our sins. I didn't have any sins to repent, because I'd never done anything wrong; my Mom wouldn't tolerate it. I was the perennial "goody two-shoes."

Both my Mom and the preacher kept railing about "sins of the flesh." I didn't have any idea what they were talking about, and I didn't know who to ask. I went to a Christian high school that didn't have any kind of sex education in their curriculum; all we got were constant harangues about "abstinence." Abstain from what?

I was scared to death when I got my first period. I went to the bathroom and, when I pulled my underpants down, they were filled with blood. I went crying to the school nurse. She told me it was perfectly natural, that it would happen to me once a month, and she gave me a cotton pad called a Kotex.

When I told my Mom about it, she said it's a woman's "curse," and then she told me to always wear a pad, never to use a tampon, because you have to put it in "there." I didn't even know what a tampon was. Or where "there" was, either.

All the girls at my school had to dress "modestly." We didn't have school uniforms like they wear in Catholic schools. I always wore baggy, shapeless dresses that hung down almost to my ankles, so that I wouldn't call "unwanted attention" to myself.

My mother bought me Red Cross underpants that covered my navel, and I wore a bra that was a size too small, so that it would flatten out my "bosoms." It hurt me to wear it. I have really long blonde hair that I wear in a braid that almost reaches my bottom. My Mom wouldn't let me cut or style my hair, because she said that reflected vanity.

I had almost no contact with boys. At our school, our classes were segregated, and the boys met in a separate building. The only time boys and girls were together was at church services, that were held in the auditorium, and even then, the girls sat on one side and the boys on the other.

I was completely ignorant of any kind of sexual matters, even to the proper names for body parts. A man had a "thing," a woman's genitals were referred to as "down there," or the generic term for all of them as "private parts."

I knew about kissing, because I'd seen it in the movies, but I'd never done it myself. Charlie Shoemaker tried to kiss me once at a church picnic, but he had pimples all over his face, body odor, and bad breath, so I pushed him away from me and ran home.

I had always gotten straight A's in school, and I wanted to go to college. My Mom wanted me to go to Indiana Bible College, sponsored by the Lighthouse Pentecostal Ministry. She wouldn't help me with tuition or anything else, unless I attended that school and continued to live at home.

I refused to go to any Bible college, and there began what I call "Zoey's Rebellion."

I hated Indiana. I hated Jesus. And right then, I hated my Mom.

When I was little, my Daddy was stationed in California, and I remember I loved it there. I made up my mind that that is where I wanted to go. Over the years, I had saved up my baby-sitting money, and I had about $2400 there, and since I was now eighteen, I could collect my father's survivor's benefits, that had been held in trust for me. That was another $10,000.

My mother was furious when I took the money out of the trust, but there was nothing she could do about. I figured I could rent myself a room somewhere, find a job, and enroll in one of the community colleges that don't cost a fortune in tuition.

I didn't know where to start looking, but I remembered that I really liked the Bay Area around San Francisco. My Mom had gotten a Christmas card from my Uncle Johnny last year. His return address was in San Bruno, California, which is just south of San Francisco, so I thought I would call him up and ask for suggestions.

It had been so long since I'd seen him, I hoped he would remember me. He was always wonderful to me when I was a kid, bringing me presents and taking me out for ice cream and stuff. I already mentioned that I had a crush on him when I was a teenager. So, I found his number and I called him up.

"Snooky! How are you, baby girl?"

Daddy had hung that nickname on me when I was a little girl, and I hated it, but that's what Uncle Johnny had always called me.

"I'm fine, Uncle Johnny, but I'm not a baby girl anymore. I'm calling for some advice." So I told him my story.

"Well, hey, kiddo, I've got an extra room at my place. Why don't you come and stay with me until you figure out what you want to do?"

"Gosh, Uncle Johnny, that would be wonderful." Then I thought for a minute. "I wonder if I should tell Mom where I'm going to be staying."

"HA HA HA, Old Gracie will shit a brick!" I always loved Uncle Johnny's great belly laugh. "Last time I talked to her, she called me a whore-monger and a spawn of Satan."

"Yeah, well, she told me I'm going to become a wanton woman, a harlot, and a Jezebel, what ever that means."

"I can see why you want to get out of there."

I had decided to take the bus to San Francisco to save money. Johnny met me at the bus station. I was wearing a really loose pair of denim pants and a baggy grey sweatshirt. I thought he probably wouldn't recognize me after all these years, but I spotted him immediately.

When Johnny walks, his shoulder sway from side to side, in this kind of swagger that he practiced when he was trying to be a bad boy in high school. He is so handsome, I almost swooned. His face looks just like Brad Pitt, his dirty-blond hair was long and he wore it in a ponytail. He was wearing a pair of Levi's, low on his hips, a pair of black boots, a Harley Davidson tee shirt, and a soft black leather jacket, open in the front. I probably shouldn't have noticed, but his pants were pretty tight, and he had a big bulge at the crotch.

"Hi, Uncle Johnny," I shouted across the terminal and flung myself into him for a big hug.

"Hey, Snooky. Wow, you sure have grown up."

"You look wonderful, Uncle Johnny."

"How about you drop the 'uncle' and just call me Johnny?"

"Okay, if you'll drop the 'Snooky' and call me Zoey."

"You got a deal," he smiled. Oh God, when he does that, he has these two gorgeous dimples at the corners of his mouth.

He threw my two suitcases in the back of his pickup truck, and we headed down the freeway to San Bruno. Johnny lives up in the hills aways, and he has a ranch style house that he bought and remodeled himself after he got out of the Marine Corps. It was on a big lot and had a kidney shaped swimming pool in the backyard.

We went into the house, and were greeted by this really big shaggy-haired dog, who immediately jumped up on me, put his feet on my shoulders and started licking my face. I laughed and scratched him behind the ears.

"D.S., get down," Johnny yelled at him. He got down and sat on the floor wagging his tail franticly.

"D.S.? That's a funny name for a dog."

"It stands for Dumb Shit," he grinned.

He showed me my room, which had a queen-sized bed, a dresser, a nice big closet, a dressing table and a nightstand. There was a shared bathroom between my bedroom and his, and a full-length mirror on the door.

It had been a three-day bus ride from Indiana. I was tired from the trip, and I had been wearing the same clothes since I started my trip. I wanted to take a hot bath and go to bed. I took my full-length flannel nightgown into the bathroom with me. Filling the tub, I took off my dirty clothes and sank down in the water.

As soon as I was in the bath, the door to Johnny's room opened and he stepped into the room.

"Oh, Christ, Zoey, I'm sorry; I'm not used to having someone else in the house."

I blushed all over. I was neck-deep in the water, so I was sure he didn't see anything, but I'd never been in a room with a man naked before. Later that night, when I thought about it, I felt a little tingly.

The next morning, I was having a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee; feeling very decadent, because Mama never had coffee in the house. There was a loud roaring noise that came up the driveway, then stopped. The screen door slammed, and a woman walked into the room

She must have been six feet tall, with flaming red hair, and wearing black boots and the tightest jeans I ever saw. She peeled off her leather jacket and, underneath it, she had on some kind of a halter top. She had really big bosoms, half of them spilled over the top of her halter, and there was a big valley between them where they were pressed together. She had a tattoo of a panther on one of them.

"Hi, I'm Angie; you must me Johnny's niece, uh, Snooky isn't it."

"My name is Zoey, it's nice to meet you. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks," she said, and went into the fridge and got herself a beer.

I had never seen anyone dressed like that, and I guess I was staring at her, particularly at her chest.

"You like my tits, Zoey?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're staring at my tits."

"Your what?"

"Tits, boobs, knockers, hooters," she said, putting her hands under them and lifting them up. I just learned a bunch of new words. We chatted for awhile and even though she was strange looking to me, she was really very nice, and I liked her.

Just then, Johnny came into the kitchen. All he had on was his Levi's; the top button was undone, and they rode low on his hips. He was really muscular, with big biceps, and large, tight pectorals. He had a mat of hair on his chest and a patch on his stomach that disappeared down the front of his pants. He was so good looking!

He dug into the fridge and got himself a beer, and when he turned around, I could see this really big, multicolored dragon tattooed on his back. Its claws reached almost to his shoulders, and the tail ran under the back of his jeans.

"You ready to go on our run, Angie?" Johnny asked.

"Any time you are, dude."

"We're going for a ride, Zoey, would you like to go with us?"

"Uh, sure. Just let me get dressed."

When I stepped out the front door, I realized where the roar had come from. There were two motorcycles in the driveway, one was Johnny's and the other was Angie's. The sun reflected off all the chrome. The tank and the painted parts on Angie's bike was metallic red. Johnny's had a red, white, and blue gas tank. Both of the had fat tires in the back, and skinny ones in the front that stretched way out.

They were both Harley Davidson choppers (I learned all this later). Johnny had built them both in his shop. His was a 1969 with a "panhead" engine, that was a replica of the bike Peter Fonda rode in "Easy Rider," and Angie's was a "shovelhead." Johnny made his living building custom motorcycles.

"Hop on behind me," he said, patting the seat.

Mama had told me horror stories about motorcycle wrecks, and she said Johnny had a death wish. He jumped up on the starter and it roared to life. I was terrified, but I trusted Johnny, so I climbed on. He flipped up the kickstand, and took off down the driveway.

When we got to the highway, he really picked up speed. I wrapped my arms around him and held on for dear life. I'll never forget the feel of his soft leather jacket, and how wonderful it smelled. And the feeling of my hair blowing in the wind.

After awhile, when I had relaxed a bit, I became aware of the throbbing vibration coming up from the seat under me. It built and built, and centered right between my legs. My belly was on fire, my breath was coming in ragged gasps. Then this huge rush started from my toes, ran through my whole body, and hit me like a lightning bolt right between my legs. I had never had such a wonderful feeling in my life, and I didn't know what it was. If I hadn't been holding tightly on to Johnny, I would have fallen right off the bike.

When we got back from our ride, Angie and I were sitting in the kitchen; Johnny had gone off to his shop to work.

"So, how'd you like the ride, Zoey?"

"At first I was scared to death, and then it was fun. But then something happened to me that I didn't understand." For some reason, I felt she was someone I could really talk to, so I told her about that feeling that I had.

"You just came, kiddo," she laughed.

"Came where?"

"You had an orgasm, Zoey."

"I don't know what an orgasm is, but it sure felt good."

"Wow, you really are an innocent. Haven't you ever masturbated? Jilled yourself off?" I shook my head.

"Well, come in the other room; I can show you how to do that."

I followed her into my bedroom. She started taking off her clothes. I thought about turning my head, but I didn't. She pulled off her halter top and her really big boobs popped out. They had great big rings around her nipples, and they kind of hung down on her chest.

She stepped out of her pants. Her underpants just had this little piece of cloth between her legs, with strings that went around the sides, and one that went down the crack in her bottom. She took those off, and I could see she didn't have any hair down there, just a little slit like I had when I was a little girl. This was the first naked person I had ever seen, and even though it was probably naughty, I was really fascinated.

"You need to undress, too, kiddo, if we're going to do this."

I hesitated. The way I was raised, your body is shameful, and you always need to cover yourself up. But I really wanted to know what she was going to show me, and I REALLY wanted to know how to get that feeling between my legs again.

I turned my back and stepped out of my jeans, then I pulled my sweatshirt over my head, and I was standing there in just my bra and underpants. Timidly, my whole body blushing, I reached behind me and unfastened my bra; it felt so good to get that too-tight thing off my body. Lastly I pulled my underpants down.

Blushing furiously, I kept my eyes cast down to the floor, and slowly turned around to face her. I was afraid Angie would think my boobs were ugly, because they were so much smaller than hers. She looked me up and down.

"Holy shit, kid, that's quite a body you have there."

"But my, um, boobs are so small compared to yours."

"God, I'd trade these jugs of mine for what you have any day. What are you, about a C cup?"

"Well, the bra I have is a B cup, but it's way too small. Yours are really big."

"Yeah, and I'll be wearing them in my lap by the time I'm forty-five. You have no idea how it hurts my back, carrying these things around. Come over here and look at yourself in the mirror."

I walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at myself. I had never looked at myself naked before. My breasts are round and firm, and sit high up on my chest, with kind of puffy pink nipples. My waist is really narrow, and my hips flare out. I have a patch of fine blonde hair between my legs. I turned around and looked over my shoulder, and saw that my butt is full and round. I wondered if Johnny would like my body, if he ever saw it.

"I'll show you how I make myself cum, and then I'll show you how to do it. I like to start out by playing with my tits first."

Angie lay back on the bed and cupped her breasts, then started stroking them. When she skimmed her hands over her nipples, I watched them stiffen and stick way out. She drew up her knees and spread her legs wide apart. She was pinching one of her nipples and rolling it between her thumb and finger, while her other hand reached down between her legs.

"I like to kind of stroke my pussy, before I go to work on my clit."

"Your what?"

"My clit-- clitoris."

"I don't know what that is."

"Come over here and look between my legs."

Angie spread herself open, and I looked in wonder at all her pink parts. She gave me an anatomy lesson, naming all the parts--the labia, clitoris, vagina. She told me all the proper names, as well as the slang terms: pussy, cunt, cooze, snatch, and a bunch more that I don't remember.

She put special emphasis on her clit, and when she started rubbing over the top of it, I could see her outer lips swell up and turn bright pink. I looked in really close, and I could see into her vagina. She slid the hood back and her shiny, swollen clitoris came out.

"They call this the 'little penis' because it looks just like one."

"I haven't seen a penis yet." But I wanted to. All of a sudden, I was interest in everything about sex.

Angie's fingers were flying over her clit, and she was pinching and rolling one of her nipples at the same time. She started to moan, and then out a big cry, "OH GOD, YES, YES....AHH." Her hips rose up, and a lot of fluid poured out of her cunt.

"Now you try it. Start by rubbing your tits and playing with your nipples."

I did that, and this really tingly feeling went from my boobs all the way down between my legs. I put my hand down there and found my clit. It was really swollen and hard. I did what Angie showed me, rubbing over my hood; then I dipped my fingers into my vagina and spread my juice all over the head of my clit. I rubbed circles all around it.

It felt wonderful, and the more I did it, the greater the sensation became. It built and built, until it completely overwhelmed me. My hips started bucking up and down, my body shook, and then the lightning bolt struck me.

"OHH...OHH...AHH...Ahhh, ahhh...mmmm." I was captured, hooked. I loved that feeling and wanted to do it again and again.

When my legs stopped shaking, I got up and went to get dressed. Angie looked at me with a frown on her face.

"Come on with me; we're going out."

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping."

We went to a big mall, and Angie took me from store to store. She said we needed to start from the bottom up, so our first stop was at Victoria's Secret. My eyes got huge when I saw the displays in the window. Mama would be totally appalled if she thought I was wearing any of this stuff, but it gave me a secret thrill. She picked out a handful of bras and bunch of panties, and we headed for the dressing room.

Angie had already seen me naked when she showed me how to make myself cum, so I wasn't embarrassed anymore. I tried on several bras, and found it was a 34C that fit me. I guess I was really transforming, so I picked out several really lacy ones that lifted my breasts and barely covered my nipples. I picked out some really lacy panties, too, some bikini style and a few thongs. I got a really sheer see-through nightie, too, and I wondered if I'd ever be brave enough to model it for Johnny. There was a little hair sticking out around the thong, and Angie said she'd shave it for me.

We went to a bunch of different stores, and I got some short skirts, shorts, tops, and some jeans that were so tight, I had to really wriggle to get into them. We got some really pretty dresses, too. The seam in the crotch went right between my pussy lips, and really felt good when I walked. My lips kind of pooched out, and Angie said that was a camel toe. When we got home, she shaved off my pubic hair, and I really liked how smooth it felt. You could see my slit, just like when I was a little girl.