Tomboy

'Oh, my God!' I thought. 'I'm going to orgasm. I can't stop it!'

Gasping in his ear, with another few rubs, with heaving loins, I was catapulted into an explosive climax, squirming in my cinema seat. I buried my face in his shoulder to muffle the gasps. I was mortified. I thought the whole cinema could hear me.

His hand explored my soaking vulva for a few moments more as I recovered my breathing, before I drew it away. I snuggled into him, my hand rubbing his belly, trying to regain some composure. I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that my tits had been squeezed, and I had been groped between my legs for the first time, reaching an orgasm of such overwhelming passion. I wasn't sure what to think, and didn't really care just then, when his hand took mine, sliding it under his raincoat.

There was his stiff prick. Bare! Good heavens! I was gob-smacked! He must have unbuttoned his trouser flies whilst smoking his fag. He wrapped my hand round the top of the naked shaft, holding it there. It was hot and damp. It felt big! With his face pushed hard against my shoulder, he jerked my hand up and down his prick a few times. My fingers were encircling the solid shaft. I was utterly dumbfounded! Then, as I was trying to explore and concentrate on the feel of his prick in my hand, with a stifled grunt from Johnnie, I felt hot liquid gush into the palm. With several jerks, spurts of sperm flooded into it.

I knew that men expelled their sperm, of course, but never imagined that it would be ejaculated in a series of powerful spasms, spurting its load. I was taken aback! I didn't know what to do, so I just kept my hand there, filling with his juices until the convulsions had finished.

After a few seconds, Johnnie took his arm from off my shoulder, pulled the handkerchief from his top pocket, and wrapped it round my hand, still covering his hot sticky prick under the raincoat. I was in a daze. My very first hand job! I had no idea it would be like that!

We straightened ourselves out, buttoning my dress and Johnnie his flies, as unobtrusively as possible, before returning to a close embrace. Our kiss was more affectionate than before, without the burning passion, but lingering for what seemed minutes. My mind was quieter, now that the urgency had passed on, and I could analyse my emotions more clearly.

Yes, I was in love with this young man, otherwise I could never have allowed him access to the most private part of my being, allowing him to fondle me there - to say nothing of stroking my tits and rubbing my nipples. Nor would I have dreamed of letting him have me jerk off his prick and splatter my palm with his sperm. I rubbed the end of my nose as though it was itching, but in reality to smell the pungency of his semen.

I was worried. What must he think of me, I asked myself? Still cheek to cheek, I whispered to him. 'That's the first time ... in my life ... that any one has ever touched me, Johnnie. Honestly! And that's the first time I've ever touched a man. Because I love you. I hope you believe me.'

'I believe you, Ros,' he replied very softly. 'And same here. My first time as well.'

I turned my face to him and kissed him deeply and lovingly in the darkened cinema. So it was all new to him as well! I felt happier when he told me that. His hand snaked its way back into my blouse and fondled my tit and nipple. I didn't make any effort to prevent it any more. I just snuggled up to him.in fact, for the first time ever, I wished my tits were fuller for Johnnie to play with. I stroked his prick through his trousers. It was still pretty stiff! And so to the end of the film.

With some reluctance we left the cinema. The scene of our first sexual encounter. We walked in silence, hand in hand, to my bus stop, where he waited with me until the bus arrived. Demonstrations of affection in public were strictly taboo in those days - in fact we were very brave even holding hands, but there weren't many people about so early in the evening, so we weren't noticed. And I didn't really care if we had been. He squeezed my hand hard as I boarded the bus, smiling reassuringly at me, and blew me a kiss.

I tried holding back my tears all the way home on the bus. But as I went through the front door of the house, I burst into heavy sobbing, going straight to my room, my whole body heaving. The house was empty, anyway, so there was no explaining to do. Crying myself to sleep had become the norm by now. But this time I really thought I had something to feel sorry for myself about - something worth crying for - as I cradled my vulva in my palm. I wished Johnnie in bed with me, making love together. I was deeply, deeply in love - and I hated it!

The next day, after breakfast, Peggy asked me why my eyes were all puffy. I confessed to her. I told her I was in love with Johnnie and, at the cinema last night, I had let him feel me. And me him. He said he loved me, I told her.

'What?' she cried. 'I don't believe I'm hearing this, Ros. You of all people!'

'How do you mean? Me of all people?'

'After all you've said to me about boys! You're tough! You're in charge! You'll not let any of them anywhere near you, the smelly things.'

'Yeah! Well ... Johnnie's different. I fell in love, didn't I?

'You're not in love - it's just lust rearing its ugly head.'

'No, no! Honest. He loves me.'

'And he's no different, Ros! Believe me! Men will say anything to get inside a girl's knickers. You shouldn't have believed him.'

'But I do! Why not? Why should he lie?' I was getting a bit ruffled by her put down.

'Because he doesn't know you well enough. Nor you him! All he sees is a young lady with a crush on him, willing to open her legs to his prying fingers. I'll bet he laughed all the way home.'

'Peggy!' I shouted. 'It wasn't like that.'

'What was it like then?'

'How would you know, anyway. You've never had a man's hand inside your knickers - nor in your bra, I'll bet!'

'No, I haven't! And I don't intend having one in there either ... not yet. Not til I'm good and ready. Anyway, be realistic! How are you going to manage going out together when you're a hundred miles apart. You go to college next week.'

'I know.' I quietened down. 'Johnnie said we didn't know each other well enough to be going out officially.'

'There you are. So why did you let him feel you up? He's no intention of taking it any further, believe me! Except going the whole way with you.'

'But people in love were apart during the war, and they managed!'

'Yeah! And look what happened. Wives who couldn't live without prick, sleeping around. And husbands no doubt, dipping into French knickers.'

I was calmer now. And upset. Had Johnnie really taken me for an easy lay? I didn't want to believe it. He had said he loved me - but that was when he was in a sexual passion, fingering me. And I wanted to believe him. What if ...?

'Look. Roy knows Johnnie well. They're close pals. They have a wager who'll be the first to feel a girl's fanny. It looks like Johnnie won the bet!'

'What? He won't tell Roy, surely.'

'That's what lads do. They brag!'

'Not Johnnie. No! I won't believe it!'

'They are both looking for a female biological specimen to explore, they want to examine our private parts, Ros. Satisfy their curiosity about girls. Really!'

I stormed up to my room and threw myself on the bed, sobbing. What if Peggy was right? Was I really being blind and stupid? Is that all Johnnie wanted from me, just a feel of my fanny and tits? Oh, no! Surely not! But I slowly came to the conclusion that it probably was. I'd been a fool. I felt cheated. Cheap and dirty! And angry! I had planned to meet him at Collinson's that morning. I decided not to go. I couldn't face him, the man who had felt my private juices on his fingers! And me his!

Peggy told me later in the day that she had seen Roy, who had no knowledge of Johnnie and me going to the cinema together. Otherwise, he would have been only too keen to tell her. So Johnnie had kept quiet about it after all. Well, that was something. And anyway, I'd broken with him now - I'd left him waiting for me in town. Another rash decision of mine. There was no way back. The sooner I got away to college, the better. Get him out of my hair.

There was one final hurdle. Peggy had arranged for a few friends to come round on Sunday evening. Including Roy and Johnnie. She told me that she would organise a game of 'Truth or Dare' and get Johnnie in the hot seat. Then she would question him about his attitude toward girls and chastity and marriage - and so on. I didn't like the sound of it, but she assured me it would be okay.

I spent most of the day packing and keeping myself to myself. The evening duly arrived - and so did Roy and Johnnie together with two other couples. I sat by myself, avoiding Johnnie's eyes. He never mentioned the missed date we had - seemed just the same as ever. Witty and laughing - perhaps a bit too jolly! But when Peggy got the game going, Johnnie was soon in the 'truth or dare' chair. I don't remember the details of the interrogation - for that's what it was - anymore, but Peggy was very clever at twisting things round and we gradually laid into him and I was scathing, I must say. The others must have wondered why I was being so antagonistic toward him. But I didn't care.

Johnnie got flustered and embarrassed by the questions we were hurling at him. Eventually he'd had enough, standing up, refusing to take any further part in the game. He walked out of the room and was gone some time. I was elated at winning! But not for long. We carried on as though nothing had happened. The atmosphere was rather cool, but I became full of remorse, taking little interest in what was happening.

It wasn't too long before people started to go home. The last buses on a Sunday left fairly early. Johnnie was the first to leave the house with Roy, thanking Peggy in high spirits - but ignoring me. I felt small and insignificant and snubbed.

It was after they had all left that Peggy told me. She was quite casual about it. Johnnie had phoned yesterday afternoon, and earlier in the day, asking to speak to me, but Peggy had told him I was out.

'I didn't think you wanted to talk to him. He gave me a message for you, but I'm sorry - I forgot to pass it on.'

I looked at her, waiting to hear the message.

'Tell Ros that I still love her,' she said guiltily.

I collapsed in a chair and closed my eyes in despair. I was utterly miserable. So the truth or dare game was all a sham. There was no victory for me after all.

'Sorry,' was all Peggy said.

I went slowly up to my room, drying my tears, switched on the light, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked a mess. How could anyone possibly love that thing in the mirror, I asked myself? It was then that I saw it. An envelope propped against the mirror. It was addressed to 'Ros'. I stared at it for quite some time before reaching out for it. When I opened it there was one sheet of folded paper inside.

Dearest Ros I'm very sorry you couldn't make it yesterday and that you weren't able to talk to me on the phone. I can only assume that you feel ashamed of what we did. If that is so, I am so very sorry, but I really believed that it was what you wanted. I got it wrong it seems. Just like me - idiot! What I was going to tell you yesterday was that I would have liked you to be my girlfriend. I thought long and hard about it overnight (sleepless night!), and realised that I could wait for you for three or four years, if you could. If all went well over the next few months, we'd announce at Christmas our intention to get engaged next Easter. I wanted us to be together for ever! Well, the best laid plans of mice and men and all that! I really got it wrong, didn't I? You really led me up the garden path! I will miss you enormously, but I suppose I'll get over it. 'Men have died and worms have eaten 'em, but not for love.' I love you - always.

Johnnie

As I read it, tears were streaming down my cheeks. What an utter mess I'd made of things. But I was too proud to do anything about it.

Johnnie's story

When Roy asked me to make up a foursome with him and Peggy, his friend, at the cinema, I wasn't very keen.

'She's Peggy's cousin, Ros, who's spending a couple of weeks with her. Bit of a tomboy, I believe, but we can't leave her on her own and can't really expect her to be a wallflower.'

Roy and I had been pals for three or four years. His parents had bought a newsagent shop in Bridget Green and he had come to our school, joining my class in the fifth form. We took part together in the school play and became friends. He was a vain sort of guy, being the traditional handsome one. He was obsessed by women - or rather by their bodies - but then so was I, so we got on famously.

We spent many hours in his room listening to opera and discussing women, speculating on what they had hidden between their thighs. Being a news-agents, he had access to copies of Health and Efficiency, a magazine about nudism, with photographs of naked couples which did nothing to satisfy our curiosity. We saw lots of breasts, though. We promised, whoever was the first to find out about their secret, to tell the other. He always assumed that he would be the first to 'score' with a woman, being the more handsome of the two!

Peggy was a neighbour, also at the end of her Grammar school years, but intending to train for a nurse. She was waiting for the formalities to be cleared. Roy had hopes of the two of them experiencing sexual intercourse together, or at least showing him her private parts. But she wasn't having any! Just good friends. Her virginity was not negotiable. It was being saved for her husband. And he would be a doctor, of course! But she was happy to let Roy cuddle her in the cinema and steal the odd kiss. No harm in that.

'Well, okay then,' I agreed. 'I'll meet you there.'

When I saw them coming through the doors into the foyer, I thought for a moment that Ros was in fact Roy's brother! Then I saw them emerge fully. She was quite tall, and her short hair and boyish figure wasn't at all feminine. And at that age, we were looking for girls with big breasts and wide hips! Ros was wearing a high neck blue jumper, with a gold waist band tied round, outside a calf-length navy blue skirt, with a lightweight summer coat.

We were introduced, got the tickets and made our way into the cinema. We were lucky to find two double seats on the back row. I think Ros was rather nervous, because she never stopped talking! She had an inner energy and forthright manner, which made things easy for me. I didn't have to say much! During the interval I found we had a lot of interests in common, except her athletics! I'm not an exercising sort of individual. We argued about JB Priestley! I liked her! She was good fun!

During the main film, I held her hand, but made no effort to put an arm round her, or kiss her. Out of the corner of my eyes I studied her face. She had brown eyes, firm cheek bones and chin, with a soft mouth and full lips. Her nose was smallish, but well-shaped. Hmm! Quite good looking really, even though her hair is cut short. I preferred girls with long hair! I had to confess she looked attractive though. Glancing down, I saw that her chest was pretty flat, with only the suggestion of breasts lurking beneath the jumper. Oh well...!

In bed that night, my masturbatory fantasy was Jane Russell, with her oversized breasts, sensuous lips and sultry looks. Ros didn't even figure in my thoughts!

On the following day we all met for coffee in Collinson's Café. Ros sat with me, since the others were all paired off. She was more relaxed than the previous night and joined in the general chat and laughter. She made no secret about her forthright thoughts on issues of the day, sex and marriage. After college, she insisted, she was getting out of this dump of a country and going to Australia.

'Lots of sunshine and fresh air, with no threat of atom bombs and shortages and things!'

On Sunday evening we met up for a party at Peggy's. It was somewhere to go on a Sunday. There were five other couples there and Ros was again paired with me. We sat together in an arm chair. She was sitting on my knee, letting forth on her views about men and the way women are treated by them. The others looked at me with some sympathy. I just shrugged and raised my eyebrows. I was only making up the pairings, after all.

Peggy organised a game of Postman's Knock. All the girls drew a playing card which they were supposed to keep secret, but they all whispered it to their boyfriends. Ros was number three, but she wasn't keen on being taken out by one of the others to be kissed, so asked me quietly to call for her when it came to my turn. I decided to surprise her.

As it happens, I was the first to be sent out of the room. I knocked on the door and called out that I had a parcel for number three! A postcard was one kiss, a letter two kisses, and a parcel three. I heard jeers and laughter in the room before Ros came out, blushing slightly at having had her leg pulled. She would have expected a postcard only. A solitary kiss.

I smiled at her. Ros looked at me with serious, almost nervous expression. Taking her in my arms, she stiffened as I kissed her lightly on the lips. There was little response. For my second kiss, I held her more tightly, pressing my lips more firmly onto hers. She relaxed and softened her lips. For the third kiss, I held the back of her head, chewing her lips lightly with mine. Her mouth opened slightly to allow our lips to nibble, and her body pressed into mine. I felt her belly quiver before we heard a shouting from the room, asking what we were doing?

She was breathing a little heavily as we returned to our armchair, and placed her hand in mine, giving me a thin smile. There was joking and laughter as the men took their turn outside the door to summon their girls for a few kisses. Another game consisted of turning out the lights. Anyone found kissing when they were snapped on again was disqualified, and so on until there was only one couple left not found kissing. Silly game. Ros and I won!

Going home on the bus, I thought about Ros in a rather more feminine light. Her kissing wasn't all that marvellous, I thought, but her lips were soft and full and responsive after she'd relaxed a bit.

The next two days, I was pleased that Ros phoned me for a chat! She was very excitable, bubbling, full of laughter, talking about her plans for the future. We were on the phone for ages on each occasion. I was growing very fond of her, and loved to hear the sound of her voice, and her laughter.

On the Wednesday evening we went to the cinema again as a foursome. Ros was wearing a black high-neck jumper I remember. I took her hand as we sat together. The lights were already dimmed and the news was showing. She snuggled up to me. It was during the supporting feature film that I was taken aback by Ros taking my hand and placing it round her shoulders, nestling deeper into me. She anticipated what I had meant to do, but must have been impatient!

We sat cheek to cheek for a few minutes before twisting out faces together. Our mouths met in a long eager kiss. She nibbled and ran her tongue over my lips, with her right hand curled round my chest. Whilst drawing her closer to me, my hand brushed over her right breast, before holding her under the armpit. As we came out of the embrace for air, my hand once again smoothed over her breast. I was sure I could feel the impression of her nipple against the jumper. I was conscious of her fast heart beat!

When the main film started, we resumed our snuggling together. I was conscious of the scent of her skin. She didn't wear perfume - it was the essence of Ros herself. Moving into our first kiss, my hand lingered on the swelling of her breast, which Ros immediately intercepted, placing her hand over mine. But she pressed it harder against her before sliding it away to beneath the armpit. Her heart was beating fast and strong as she sought my lips with hers for another prolonged kiss. When we broke off, she took my hand and laid it on her thigh as we sat watching the film.