10 comments/ 32599 views/ 13 favorites The Peanut Butter Girl By: PaulSandarac [All characters in this story who are involved in sexual situations are at least 18 years old - PS] [Author's Note: It has come to my attention that there is a whispering campaign going on behind my back; and that some readers are positing that I do not know how to write cheesy pornography! And in addition, some other people are claiming that my stories contain far too much useless and banal prose and dialogue; and that it is frustrating to have to wade through this junk in order to get to the sexy stuff! Well, ladies and gentlemen, enough is enough!!! No more Mr. Nice Guy! I am about to put my literary foot down; and to show my readers that I can churn out sleazy improbable garbage, if not better than, then at least as well as, any other writer on this site! At the beginning of this story I will demonstrate conclusively that I can sink as low as is necessary in order to stop these malicious rumours that I find so deeply offensive. And as an added bonus, readers will no longer have to waste their valuable time by carrying on with the full story in order to be treated to a graphic sex scene! - PS] * * * "Listen to this!" Susan said with a giggle to her friend Cheryl, opening the cheap paperback in her hand to a page she had bookmarked, "If this guy can get published, anyone can!" "Is it dirty?" Cheryl asked, noting the salacious picture on the cover of the book. "Very," Susan answered, "but it's so bad, it's good!" "Tell me what you think?" Susan continued, trying not to laugh as she began to read out loud ... Mr. McDonald heard a timid knock on his classroom door. He looked at the clock and thought: "5:30; right on time!" "Come in" The door opened and Miss Meadows, a senior, entered the classroom and traversed it to stand beside his desk. Mr. McDonald almost drooled as he observed that the dainty blonde wasn't wearing a bra, which he took as a very good sign; and that her fabulous 38 DDD tits were almost bursting out of her blouse. He could easily make out the areola and nipples through the semitransparent fabric. "Am I late?" she asked. "No, right on time, Miss Meadows, I like that. You asked for an appointment?" "Yes ... I ... I need to raise my grade." "How high do you need to raise it, Miss Meadows?" "About this high," she replied with a sly smile, lifting her short school uniform kilt up so he could see her freshly shaved pussy. As a general rule, she never wore panties at school, because it made it so much easier to masturbate at her desk if a class became boring! Even sitting a few feet away from the luscious nubile blonde, Mr. McDonald could still catch the distinct musky odour of her arousal, which made him rock hard almost immediately! "Do you know the rules Miss Meadows, because I have to obey them strictly in order to be fair to all of the other girls?" Every year, Mr. McDonald picked half a dozen or so of the best looking and most endowed girls in the senior class, usually two blondes, two brunettes and two redheads, and kept them solidly at a D- until they provided him with a reason to improve their grades. "Yes sir, Jill and Lily explained them to me: I give you a blow job for a C; I let you eat me out for a C+, a screw will give me a B; doggy style a B+; up my rear end for an A; and then I can add a spanking or bondage for bonus marks!" "Very good Miss Meadows, you have been doing your homework! And what grade are you hoping to receive today?" "An A+!" "Excellent!" said Mr. McDonald, standing up and undoing his belt so he could take his trousers off, "Tell me Miss Meadows, when you have sex how often do you orgasm?" "Five or six times; but if I get spanked I'll usually have one during that as well. That's why I chose a spanking for my bonus marks." "A very wise decision Miss Meadows," Mr. McDonald said dropping his boxer shorts to expose his 10" erection. Not only was Mr. McDonald big, but his cock was quite thick as well. But he didn't consider himself to be a sexual athlete, because he could usually only come about three times per session with one of the teenaged girls. And he found that he always had to leave a couple of hours between appointments! As he placed his clothing on the desk, and sat back down in his chair, he reflected on how satisfying it was to get sexual favours from his students, especially the shy or slightly reticent ones. But what was even better was how many came back for encore after encore with his tremendous tool, often complaining bitterly that their boyfriends or fathers didn't know how to give them a decent climax. But Mr. McDonald had an ironclad rule; none of the young ladies were allowed to have him ravage their eager pussies more than 50 times, no matter how much they begged him, because he didn't want any emotional attachments forming! The exception to this had been a fiery young redhead from Ireland, Rose, whose pelvic gymnastics could do justice to a yoga instructor! She came to his classroom early each morning for many months, straddling him so she could drive his massive cock deep inside her wet willing womanhood; after which she would use the muscles of her educated snatch to milk him like a diary herd! "Let's start with the spanking, Miss Meadows shall we?" Mr. McDonald suggested, pointing towards his lap. "Shall I take my clothes off?" "That won't be necessary, just undo your blouse so I can feel up your breasts." "Yes sir," she replied undoing the buttons of her blouse. He immediately cupped her bountiful breasts, one in each hand, and then began to tease the light brown nipples by rolling them between his fingers until they were erect, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. When he was finished playing with them, he gestured towards his lap, and she bent over his seated body with her face down, pulling herself forward until her upper body hung suspended over his legs, and so that her bum was pointed upwards for his convenience. In this position her magnificent melons hung pendulously down into space, swaying slightly as she wiggled into position. Mr. McDonald flipped up her short kilt and then spread her legs apart so he could get full access to her pussy. Wasting no time, after all he had another one of the girls coming at 7:30; he spread the delicate pink curving lips of her juicy cunt apart, and then jammed one, then two, and finally three fingers into her warm, soaking wet, love tunnel. Having satisfied himself that her vagina was nicely stretched, he retrieved some lubricant he kept in the pencil drawer of his desk for just these situations. He squirted some onto his index finger, which he then began to work into the steamy interior of her anus. He noted with satisfaction that her clitoris was unusually large, and already poking out from its hiding place beneath her inner pussy lips. He rubbed it roughly with his thumb, making her squirm and moan. No wonder she came so much! "I thought you were going to spank me," she gasped. "I will; I was just making sure you could take my cock inside you; I'm quite a bit bigger than average." Once he had managed to insert his index finger right up to the hilt, Mr. McDonald then brought his other hand down with a brisk slap onto one of the exposed orbs of her sweet posterior, raising a red mark. "Mr. McDonald," Miss Meadows panted. "Yes dear?" "I forgot to tell you that I make quite a lot of noise when I climax." "That's fine Miss Meadows. Everyone at this end of the school has gone home; you can be as loud as you wish." "Thank you sir." By this point, Susan was giggling so much she had to stop reading. "Wet willing womanhood!" Cheryl exclaimed, "Are you kidding me?" "You have to admit that the dairy herd image is pretty unique," Susan countered, with a laugh, "you don't read something like that every day!" "Yes, but everything else is so old it's almost geologic! The blonde schoolgirl with the huge boobs being blackmailed into sex, and then loving it! Give me a break!" "Well guys must like it, because it's been used at least ten thousand times, not only in stories, but in porno flicks as well." "Well, speaking as a girl, it doesn't do anything for me, although, much as I hate to admit it, the idea of milking a guy like that is sorta sexy in a weird way. I wonder how you learn to do that?" Cheryl said, with a twinkle in her eye! "Cheryl!" Susan scolded as they laughed together. Just then, Cheryl's father came down the basement stairs to fetch them for a ride to the high school. Susan quickly slipped the book behind her back. "What's so funny?" he asked, and then, getting no answer, he continued, "I need you upstairs in 5 minutes if you want to be on time." "OK Dad," Cheryl answered. When he was gone Cheryl said, "I guess we better get going; but that book, where did you get it?" "I like to go to used book sales," Susan answered, "it was in with a bunch of old Harlequin Spice novels, 6 for $2." "Why would you want those?" "Because its one of the few places where you can read authors who write about sex from a woman's point of view. I like to see how they describe things to help with my own writing. And by the way, it's not just dirty old men that turn out the really trashy stuff, I've read that quite a few of the filthiest stories are put together by little old ladies!" "Just like phone sex, huh?" "Cheryl!" her father shouted down the stairwell, "Let's go; I have to get to work at some point today." The two of them rushed up the steps to collect their luggage and leave the house. As Cheryl closed the front door, Susan observed Cheryl's father waiting impatiently for them in his car, which he had already started. When they got into the vehicle he quickly sped away. * * * Half an hour later, Susan stood in the high school parking lot, and observed with amusement the organized mayhem surrounding her. The noise of bus motors, along with the excited chatter of the entire Grade 10 class preparing to embark for "Spirit Camp", were making it difficult for Mr. Evans, the lead teacher for this year's excursion, to make himself heard. "OK, students, listen up!" he yelled above the din, "Drop your luggage beside the cargo bay of your assigned bus, and line up behind the counsellors." Mr. Evans began to list off the counsellor teams for each bus, "... and I'll be using Susan and Peter on bus number 6 ..." Susan was in a very good mood, even a little excited, as she approached the bus with the large "6" poster propped next to it. She had already felt the eyes of the dozens and dozens of immature males trying to undress her in their randy little minds, which made her smile inwardly. Not that there was much to remove as, true to her somewhat exhibitionist nature, she had used the excuse of the very warm early September day to wear a pair of white "short shorts", ones that hugged her womanly hips; as well as a sleeveless blouse that was tailored in a way that emphasized her full breasts. She had deliberately left quite a few of the top buttons on the blouse undone, so that some cleavage showed. New white sandals and a new hair style, which allowed her deep auburn tresses to flow over her shoulders in a cascade of gentle tendrils curling this way and that, gave her a more natural look; so much better, she thought, than the fake blonde tint she used to favour. The hairdresser had dyed it with something very close to her own natural shade, and she had been letting it grow. Also gone in the summer makeover was the flashy jewellery and hot red lipstick. It was replaced with a clear pink lip gloss, some simple white earrings, and a pair of designer sunglasses that she pushed up onto the top of her head, revealing what she thought was her best feature, a pair of brown eyes. It had been very difficult to abandon her previous choices of mascara and eye shadow, because she enjoyed wearing quite a bit of makeup. But Cheryl, who had become her best friend after they roomed together at the Spirit Camp counsellor orientation at the end of June, had insisted that she "lighten up" on it unless she was getting really dressed up. Susan had always admired Cheryl, with her slim graceful figure, fine oriental features and lovely dark eyes. She normally wore her lustrous raven hair loose, letting it flow in a shiny river down to the middle of her back; but when she did put it up, exposing her elegant neckline, she looked almost beautiful enough to be a runway model. Interestingly, as Susan had discovered, beneath that breathtaking exterior was an outgoing personality, and an impish sense of humour. Some of the counsellors, who hadn't seen Susan since the training session, were clearly a little shocked to see this transformation of someone who had a reputation as the school slut, and who, Susan had to admit to herself ruefully, had dressed and acted accordingly. Cheryl had grinned and winked at her as they both observed the stunned reactions. Susan waited as a group of Grade 10 students began to assemble next to she and Peter. It was fascinating in a certain way to watch how they self-organized themselves in the rigid hierarchy of young adolescents; geeky awkward guys forming into little knots, while quite a few of the less popular or shy girls clustered together. You could easily pick out the more socially adept crowd, as they formed co-ed units, talking and laughing amongst themselves in a superior way, completely aware of their infinitely higher standing in the teenage pecking order. In the middle of these strata were the majority of the students, some of whom, Susan knew, would manage to elevate themselves to membership in the top tier, a form of adolescent heaven, through a variety of means. This state of nirvana could usually be achieved through a wardrobe upgrade, accompanied by a mixture of appropriate dating, good grades and/or involvement in a suitably high status school activity such as athletics or the musical stage play. Lounging at the end of the long line was another distinct group, made up mostly of boys, trying to look both tough and bored. They were wearing the "de rigeur" wardrobe of their sect, which mainly featured the colour black. As Susan knew from experience, any interest in academics, participation in school activities, or contact with the teenage elites could get you expelled from this club in a hurry. However, since Spirit Camp was virtually mandatory, they had to participate. When Susan had been at the camp at the beginning of her sophomore year, a couple of similar boys and one girl had somehow got so caught up in the fun that they forgot to maintain the required sullen demeanour. They were ostracized from their companions with lightning speed, which resulted in them having to revamp their entire teenage persona that semester in order to find new friends to associate with. And finally, here and there, Susan observed, were the "loners", who didn't belong in any category, or didn't seem to have any particular circle of friends. Susan had pretty much been like that for her entire time in high school, which was now unfortunately extending an extra year. The problem was her grades, which had hovered in the middle regions of a "C" average. It hadn't occurred to her until almost the end of her senior year that she needed to do a lot better. After all she always had passed, and you could attend the community college as long as you didn't have any mark lower than 60. However, when she applied for the copywriting program, she got a brisk rejection letter a few months later with a sharp reminder that a "B" average along with an "A" in English was the minimum requirement for acceptance. Shocked, she opened up the college syllabus, and after some searching found an appendix which listed the exceptions to the normal academic requirements; an appendix she had completely overlooked. The bad news was there in cold hard type! Susan enjoyed writing, almost more than anything else, except perhaps boys, but that was another matter, so she was very upset and disappointed. She had selected the copywriting program because there was no chance that she could afford university in order to major in journalism. This state of affairs existed because her parents had the worst possible economic circumstances when it came to her qualifying for a government sponsored student loan. They had a bit too much income to be classed as poor, but no where near enough to pay her tuition and board, or underwrite the cost of borrowing the necessary money from a bank, especially with three other younger children in her family contributing to household costs. Going to university, they advised her as she entered her senior year, was almost out of the question, as it meant going away from home for school, with all of the attendant costs. Susan was smart, but hardly a genius, which also meant that winning a scholarship didn't seem likely, so she just drifted along, with academic achievement far from the top of her priority list, until the nasty note from the college dropped her career plan to the ground with a resounding "thud". After receipt of the letter, for the first time ever she had a serious discussion with a teacher, which resulted in her deciding on the so called "victory lap", a repeat of her senior year in an attempt to raise her marks sufficiently to meet the course entrance requirements. While most of the other students were spending the last few months of their senior year attending parties, cutting classes, and otherwise enjoying the euphoria accompanying a college or university admission letter; she was either locked in her bedroom, or closeted in the school library during spare, studying frantically as she tried to get as many of her courses as she could up to the necessary "B", thereby avoiding having to re-take them starting the following autumn. Her parents, she noticed, weren't too upset at this turn of events, no doubt because it allowed the using of Susan for a lot of free mid-week babysitting for at least one more year ... yuck! The rapid improvement in her marks over the remainder of the term did not go unnoticed. Mrs. Duncan, her English teacher, who she had made aware of her plans, asked to speak to her after school one day. "Susan," she asked in a forthright way, "would you like to earn some extra credit towards that English mark you need?" "How would I do that?" she replied politely. You didn't fool with Mrs. Duncan, anytime; and especially now, as she was going to be the gatekeeper of the all important English mark next fall. "We've disqualified a few Spirit Camp counsellors for failing to keep their marks up ... happens every year. Even though you didn't apply, and certainly wouldn't be selected under normal circumstances, I could nominate you to be a replacement counsellor so that you could write an article for the school paper. What do you think?" "Yes ... of course Mrs. Duncan ... that would be great," Susan answered, shaking a little with excitement. "And Susan, if you do a really good job, not only will I give you extra credit, but I'll help you edit it for your writing portfolio for the copywriting course." Susan left the classroom ecstatic, but also slightly apprehensive. Being a Spirit Camp counsellor had a ton of social status, at least in the eyes of most of the student body. Although this particular year's group would be mostly a year younger than Susan, they would have heard about her no doubt; that girl who had a "reputation". But the chance for bonus marks was simply too good to pass up, she'd have to do it, even if the other counsellors made things miserable for her. * * * As Peter stood beside Susan, clipboard in hand to take attendance before their bus left, he found himself more nervous than anytime else in his life! Peter didn't have any experience with girls, he'd never even been out on what would be considered a real date, and now as a Spirit Camp counsellor he was teamed up with Susan, who, while not exactly a supermodel, was certainly very, very nice to look at, and had, as some of his new buddies liked to say: "A body that just wouldn't quit!" He tried desperately not to stare at her, as if he was totally accustomed to being paired off in close proximity with a voluptuous young woman! The Peanut Butter Girl And he was going to spend four days working closely with her. Four whole days and three nights! But Peter was also perplexed; Susan did not appear to be at all like what had been described to him by his new friends Ray and Mark. When he told them the first day of school that he was teamed with Susan they had both snickered. "For a new guy, you certainly have all the luck!" Ray exclaimed, "She's a real 'peanut butter girl'" "A what?" Peter asked in a surprised voice. Coming from another country, he found himself constantly having to ask about the meaning of certain expressions. "You know," Mark explained with a sly grin, "a 'peanut butter girl' ... spreads easily!" "Oh!" was all Peter could say, as he wasn't sure if this was good news or not. But there was no way he was going to admit his lack of sexual experience to the two of them! "You better take some Trojans with you," Ray suggested with a smirk, "'Cause you're probably going to get laid!" "Ohmigod!" Peter thought. Even though he was a year older than everyone else going into their senior year, he'd never purchased condoms, much less used one. When you attended "boys only" private schools, and your family moved at least once a year for business reasons, it was hard to meet a girl, much less get to know one well enough to start fooling around! Mark must have noticed a look of concern on his face, "Don't worry, she probably supplies the condoms herself. I bet she prefers those ribbed ones!" he offered, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, don't worry," Ray added in a helpful tone, "You don't have to fuck her just because everyone else does!" "Maybe she won't like him?" Mark offered, grinning at Ray. "Let's see," Ray replied mischievously, looking Peter up and down, "As far as I can tell, he seems to be a male." "I see your point," Mark said with a laugh, "she'll definitely like him!" "How do you know all of this?" Peter asked, his stomach turning over at the thought of what might only be a day or two ahead! "Everyone knows," Mark said, "even the girls think she's a slut." "You should see what she wears," Ray said, "her skirts are so short they barely cover her ass!" "Yeah," Mark volunteered, "and when she sits down for lunch in the cafeteria she doesn't even bother to cross her legs most of the time, so you can see right up. When we were in Grade 10 we had a pool going. If you guessed the right colour of her panties you won the pot for that day." "But you got to admit one thing," Ray said in an appreciative tone, "She has a great rack." "When you take her bra off," Mark said to Peter with a wink, "try to read the size at the back ... 'cause Ray thinks she's only a 35 or a 36, but I'm sure she's more than that!" "Whatever the measurement is," Ray added, "she's definitely a 'D' ... It's not very often you see a girl with tits that size who isn't fat!" "How'd she get to be a Spirit Camp counsellor anyway?" Mark asked. "I heard Mrs. Duncan put the fix in. Maybe she thought she'd mix things up a bit by adding some trailer park trash this year!" Ray replied. "Do you think she'll just fuck Peter," Mark said, raising his eyebrows inquiringly as he looked at Ray with a smirk, "or will she give him a blow job as well?" "He'll probably get both," Ray answered cheerfully, "a girl like that usually provides the full service!" "Yup," Mark snickered, "Peter my friend, just be nice to her and you'll be 'reamed, steamed and dry-cleaned', before you know it!" By this point Peter was so embarrassed that he made up some excuse about needing to get home. Even as he walked away he could feel his face flushing as they laughingly pointed out that the pharmacy was in the other direction. Peter was very uncomfortable with the things that Mark and Ray had said, even though he knew they were partly just teasing him. Before he had left to come live with his aunt and uncle, so he could finish up high school and apply for university, his father had taken him aside and had a discussion with him about girls and dating. Nothing in that conversation suggested that he would be meeting any girls like Susan! He had attended his classes the next day, and met a few other students, but had been far to shy to ask anyone to point Susan out to him. The only reason he even knew Mark and Ray at all was because a few days before school started, after he had moved in with his uncle and aunt, he had gone over to the local tennis club, and ended up filling in a foursome with the two of them and another player. After they completed several sets, Mark, Ray and Peter sat around cooling off with some cold drinks under an umbrella by the clubhouse. When the other two asked Peter about himself, he explained his unusual academic status, and then also volunteered that he had been asked to be a Spirit Camp counsellor even though he was brand new to the school. "Wow," Ray said in a surprised tone of voice, "How did that happen?" "When I flew over here in June for my academic assessment," Peter replied, "the principal asked me about Outward Bound, because it was in my recommendation letter from my last school. When I told him I had been a ropes instructor for a few months during the summer, he asked me to be a counsellor. He thought it would improve that part of the camp experience; and it was also a good way for me to meet some of the other senior class members." "He's probably relieved to have someone like you for this year," Mark said in a friendly way, "there have been a few accidents on that course, nothing serious, but nevertheless." "You're going to love it!" Ray added enthusiastically, "Most guys would kill to be a counsellor, because you get to spend a lot of time with some of the hottest girls in Grade 12!" "Plus you'll have all the little Grade 10 chicks practically swooning at your feet ... you lucky bastard!" Mark said with a touch of envy in his voice. Peter had been somewhat apprehensive about the Spirit Camp assignment, but this conversation made him feel a whole lot better about it. * * * As he broke free from this recollection, Peter could see that the line of students beside his bus was pretty much completed. He heard Mr. Evans requesting that attendance be taken as the boys and girls started to board. Summoning up his courage to start a conversation of any kind with Susan, he suggested she mark them off because he was so new to the school. "OK," she said, giving him a warm smile. When he passed the clipboard to her, he caught a further whiff of the tantalizing fragrance she was wearing. He had experienced it earlier, when they were introduced during the teaming up process. It was very different than the perfume his mother sometimes wore, and it seemed to heighten Susan's femininity. Peter's pulse was racing; he had already been excited from the moment he got up that morning. Less than an hour ago he met Susan for the first time; the "peanut butter girl". And not only was she so much more attractive than Ray and Mark's description had suggested, but she had a body and presence that just oozed sexuality. A girl like this just couldn't possibly be as easy as his friends had suggested; but what if she was? Peter felt his knees getting weak as a torrent of confused thoughts ran through his head. * * * Even though she was pretty busy ticking off the names of the students as they boarded the bus, Susan still sensed Peter looking her over. And when she stole a quick glance at his face, she could tell that he liked what he saw! Despite the fiasco with Tommy, Susan still enjoyed having men admire her. She knew she had a great figure, and didn't mind flaunting it. At the beach she wore a tiny white bikini that guaranteed that every male eyeball within a mile would be riveted on her, often to the consternation of wives and girlfriends. She would have happily sunbathed in the nude, except that it was illegal. When she confessed this to Cheryl one day as they lay on the sand after a swim, Cheryl had exploded into laughter. "Because of you, half the guys on this beach are already in the water trying to get it to go down," Cheryl chuckled sarcastically, "If you take that swim suit off most of them aren't going to be able to come out of the water even after they turn blue!" After the two of them had dozed for a while in the warm sunshine, they started to talk. "May I ask you something personal," Cheryl said. "Of course," Susan replied, "What is it?" "I don't want to be insulting, but you must know that everyone talks about you; and not necessarily in a nice way." "I know," Susan sighed. "I thought the same things until I got to know you," Cheryl said in a serious tone, "And now I'm confused, you don't strike me at all as 'that sort of girl', as the Brits like to say ... Is any of it true?" "Yes and no." "How so?" "It's kinda hard to explain. I used to keep my body pretty covered up, and I was a little embarrassed about my breasts and things." "I'd like to be that embarrassed!" Cheryl interjected ruefully, looking downwards at her modest assets. "And then about a year ago I started to hang out with some girls who wore ... you know ... pretty sexy outfits. We started going to the mall together, and I started shopping where they did ... and so on. I started to wear some of my new stuff when there were a few boys around I met through the other girls. Anyway, once I started to dress differently, all of a sudden all the boys were paying all kinds of attention to me, and asking to go out with me." "And ... and," Susan continued hesitating, "it's kinda hard to explain, but it made me feel powerful. I could get the attention of almost any boy I wanted to. I knew I looked a little slutty, and that boys were always trying to look up my skirt, or down my blouse, but I didn't care!" "What about on dates?" Cheryl asked. "I did some stupid things," Susan said flushing, "Things I wish now I hadn't done!" "Like sex?" "Not exactly ... you see ... well you see, I let some of my first boy friends go pretty far, pretty fast. Like, letting them take my bra off, or even allowing them to put a hand inside my panties. I guess it was sort of dumb. I knew they were only interested in me for my body, but it felt good; and I usually broke up with them after a bit." "And there was this boy, Tommy," Susan continued, blushing furiously, "who I thought I really liked ... and ..." "It's OK!" Cheryl said sympathetically, "If it will make you feel any better I'll tell you about my love life next." "I guess he heard some stories about how fast I was, and when we went out for the first time, he didn't waste any time. Anyway, I let him do the usual things I let boys do with me, but not normally on the first date. And before I realized what was happening he had me naked, and then he tried to have sex with me. I started to struggle, but he was way too strong ... and ... and ... he basically raped me!" "Oh God, Susan!" Cheryl said with wide eyes, "What did you do next?" "When it was over, I got out of the car, and put my clothes on. I was really upset and crying, and I told him I was going to call the police." "We had a big shouting match, and he called me a 'stupid cunt', and said that I was just 'asking for it', and that the police wouldn't believe me." "Did you call the police?" "No. I walked home, it wasn't far, and got cleaned up and went to bed. The next morning I decided to only go to the police if I got pregnant, because I didn't want my parents getting involved. They were already not very happy about how I was dressing, and the types of boys I was dating. All I could hear them saying was 'we told you so', over and over; to hell with that!" "And of course," Susan continued bitterly, "because I didn't report him, Tommy probably started bragging to all of his friends how he'd had sex with me, and some of his other friends who I've dated, and done stuff with, probably lied and said they'd had sex with me too!" "What a bastard!" Cheryl said angrily, "I wish you had reported him so we could all see how he looks in orange!" "And now," Susan said, starting to cry, "I have to go back to high school for one more year, and everyone thinks I'm a total slut ... and it's mostly my own fault ... I just don't know what to do?" "Well I do," Cheryl said quietly, putting a hand gently on Susan's shoulder to comfort her, "You'll see." "You don't know what they call me now?" Susan whispered through her tears, "It's awful!" "What?" Cheryl asked. "A 'peanut butter girl'," Susan sniffed. "A what?" "A 'peanut butter girl' ... spreads easily" "I see!" Cheryl said, sitting up and placing her hands on her hips, while looking stern, "Well Mr. Tommy and company better look out, because I know a few girls who hang around with them, and I'm going to start a few rumours that will drop their social lives into a permanent deep freeze; just wait and see!!" "And as for you, young lady," Cheryl said in a more cheerful tone, "We have 6 weeks until school starts; plenty of time for a whole new you! By the time it's September, you're going to have so much class that the jerk patrol won't even know you. And, you have my full permission to ignore them completely, like the pathetic pimply little idiots they are!" "But I don't want to go back to the way things were before," Susan protested mildly, "where boys hardly noticed me!' "Oh, don't worry," Cheryl said with a chuckle, "boys are going to be noticing you; some very different boys ... in spades!" "Now then," Cheryl added, "when can I come over so we can go through your entire wardrobe?" "Tomorrow's OK." "Do I have to get rid of this bikini?" Susan asked, no longer crying; and somehow feeling better for having told someone about her horrible experience with Tommy. "Absolutely not," Cheryl said with a laugh, "You put it in a drawer with a label that says: 'For emergency use only'. If we see a boy you might like, and he just won't ask you out no matter what, or thinks he's in love with another girl, you put it on!" The two girls laughed together at this silly suggestion. "And, when's your next hair appointment?" Cheryl inquired further. "Soon," Susan answered "Cancel it; I'm taking you to my hairdresser as soon as I can get you in!" * * * Peter sat beside Susan at the front of the bus, in the aisle seat across from the driver, somewhere between heaven and hell! The heaven was obvious; he only had to turn his head slightly to the right to see it! The hell was trying to figure out how to say something clever or witty from time to time, in order to impress the beautiful and sophisticated looking young female right beside him. He wasn't at all convinced that he was doing much of job on this score, which only increased the nervousness he was feeling. To make matters worse, the bus seats didn't have a arm between them, and while Peter was very, very careful not to let his leg or any other part of his body rest against Susan at any time, she would frequently undo her seatbelt so she could get up on the seat to look backwards at any unusual commotion coming from the rear of the vehicle, which often resulted in exactly the contact Peter was so carefully trying to avoid. On one occasion, while she was checking on their mutual charges, the bus had lurched somewhat violently as a result of a pothole or whatever, and she was thrown against him. He had felt the soft fullness of her breasts as they pressed into him, even as he instinctively used one arm to prevent her from falling completely over. As he steadied her, his other hand ended up partly on her hip. As he helped her get back into her seat, he mumbled an apology, hoping against hope that he wasn't blushing too much. "Peter," she said sweetly, as she buckled her seatbelt, "please don't apologize, if it wasn't for you I could have broken my nose, or knocked a few teeth out." And with that, the first great miracle of Peter's adolescent life occurred, as she leaned into him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek! After the kiss, and with Susan smiling up at him, he just sat there motionless, scarcely able to even breathe. His cheek felt like it was burning with fire where her lips had touched it, and his forearm, which her breast had brushed against when she kissed him, felt like it had been subjected to an electric shock! In addition, his senses were further overwhelmed by another whiff of her delicate fragrance! He felt a wave of panic, as he realized that he should say something, but no words seemed to be able to come out! Finally, and perhaps sensing his confusion, Susan began asking him about himself. It was almost a relief to answer questions, rather than to try to make up conversation. As he gradually began to relax, he even shared a few small humourous anecdotes from his boarding school experiences, which she seemed to enjoy. As they chatted, he concentrated on looking into her wonderful brown eyes; it was far too dangerous to let his eyes go any lower, even a little! At one point, there was a crescendo of shouting coming from the rear of the bus, something had clearly occurred out of the ordinary. "Maybe I better go have a look up close," he said to Susan, getting out of his seat. "Good idea," she replied. Peter started down the aisle, all six feet of him, expecting some sort of trouble. But it was nothing more serious than a spilled can of pop, which he made the owner clean up. He listened to a few complaints from girls who had been splattered, and then made his way back to the front of the bus even as he listened to some catcalls between the boys and girls who had been involved in the incident. "Everything OK?" Susan asked as he sat down. "Nothing serious," Peter deadpanned, "just a skirmish; full hostilities haven't started yet!" "Good thing we're almost there," Susan said laughing. When they finally arrived at the camp Peter was far too busy to have any more time to talk to Susan. He had been paired off with another male counsellor, Stephen, a handsome black who not only dwarfed Peter, but looked to be in terrific shape. During the course of directing the Grade 10 boys to their quarters, he learned that Stephen was a defensive end on the school football team. Peter didn't know that much about American football, although he had seen a few games on television; but he was happy to be paired with Stephen, because he figured that between the two of them, they could deal with any of the younger boys who got out of line by breaking them into tiny pieces! As they conversed, he also discovered that Stephen was leading the hike that would begin the next morning. "Peter," Stephen grinned as they swapped thoughts on the activities they were going to be responsible for, "your job is going to be a breeze. Once I'm finished with them, they'll be too weak and confused to even hold themselves upright on those ropes, much less climb them!" By the time they had all of the students settled, the dinner bell was being sounded. After the meal the students participated in a number of lengthy, and noisy, team building activities in the large dining hall. Once again, Peter found himself very busy answering questions and supervising, so much so that it seemed impossible when he looked up to see that the clock on the wall now read 11:15! When Mr. Evans pronounced the evening over, he was greeted by a loud collective groan from the students, most of whom were clearly enjoying themselves. Stephen and Peter rallied their flock of boys together, and then led them back to the cabins; hanging around outside to ensure that any hijinks were kept to a minimum. The two of them had lit a fire to sit by until they were certain that their charges were mostly asleep. * * * Susan had also been very busy for the remainder of the day. She had managed to be teamed with Cheryl, and the two of them had ridden herd on a gaggle of giggly girls, settling fights over choices of cabins and bunks, and shooing quite a few of them out of the community washroom to get them to dinner on time. The Peanut Butter Girl "Goodness," Cheryl exclaimed, rolling her eyes as they walked towards the dining hall, "the whole group of them are like cats in heat! Did you hear the way they were talking about some of the male counsellors? Were we that stupid about boys when we were their age?" "Probably," Susan replied with a grin. "If you measure the hormone level up there," Cheryl said a bit sarcastically as she pointed at their group of girls farther up the path, "you might set some sort of world record." "I don't know about hormones, but pheromones, for sure!" When they finished laughing at Susan's joke, Cheryl asked, "So what is Peter like, is he as nice as he looks?" "He is very nice," Susan replied, "but I don't think he knows very much about girls." "Why do you say that?" "I got up on the seat a few times to see how much mischief was going on at the back of the bus; and one time the bus lurched and threw me right across his lap. If he hadn't caught me I might have got seriously hurt ..." "Susan!" Cheryl said with a giggle, interrupting her, "I thought we agreed that you were going to stop throwing yourself at guys." "Ha, ha, very funny; but it wasn't like that! And anyway, after he caught me, he was so embarrassed that he apologized for even touching me. So I gave him a little kiss on the cheek for saving me, and you should have seen the expression on his face! He looked as if he'd died and gone to heaven!" "Maybe you should whisper something indecent in his ear?" Cheryl teased, "Just to see how he reacts." "You're a riot!" Susan retorted, even though she knew Cheryl was just 'pulling her chain', "One minute you're telling me not to be so obvious with boys; and the next, you're encouraging me to act like a tart!" "Anyway, I just don't think he's the kind of guy who would enjoy something like that," she continued. Then she added in a wistful tone of voice, "He's very polite, and seems kinda sensitive. Not like other boys I've met. He's got really, really blue eyes, and ..." "So you like him," Cheryl said mischievously, interrupting her again. Susan tried to look indifferent to Cheryl's inquisitive stare, but from the heat in her cheeks, she knew she was probably starting to blush. Cheryl looked at Susan, clearly amused, and then she waved her finger and started to rhyme: "Susan and Peter up a tree," "K...i...s...s...i...n...g," "First comes love," "Then comes ..." "That's enough; they'll hear you," Susan said, cutting her off, while trying not to be flustered. "I let you out of my sight for five minutes," Cheryl said with a sigh and a giggle, shaking her head, "and you're already far gone for the first boy you run into. My, my, what am I going to do with you?" "The first time you're alone with him," she continued in an admonishing tone, waving a finger at Susan, "let's try to keep our clothes on, shall we?" "It's not like that," Susan protested, "He's just very nice ... I don't know if he's even interested in me!" "Uh, huh," Cheryl said in a knowing way. "I don't," Susan protested as they entered the dining hall. When dinner was over, the counsellors were introduced to the students; lining up on each side of the podium and giving a short sentence about their responsibilities. Susan nervously mentioned the ropes course, and her article for the school paper. She could tell from the reactions of the other counsellors that this mission came as a surprise to most of them. She returned to her table as the male counsellors assembled. When Peter introduced himself, looking a bit shyly at the audience, she noticed that quite a few of the younger girls, some of them not just pretty, but quite beautiful, were looking at his tall athletic frame a bit lustfully. He might as well have been the entrée at a gourmet dinner as far as they were concerned! She was surprised at the jealous feelings this aroused inside here. "Maybe Cheryl's right?" she asked herself ruefully, "Maybe I already am far gone for him?" * * * Peter and Stephen soon found themselves joined by a number of the other counsellors as they sat beside the fire. When Mr. Evans came by, Stephen explained their supervisory strategy to him. "Well don't stay up too late," he said cheerfully, "Big day tomorrow. And make sure that fire is completely out!" Peter pointed to a shovel and bucket he had borrowed from the camp staff that afternoon. He had already filled the bucket with water from the lake. "All that Outward Bound experience is coming in handy, Peter," he said approvingly, "I'm glad I invited you." "So am I," Peter replied with sincerity. Shortly after he had left, Cheryl and Susan appeared. They sat on either side of Peter, and began to regale the others concerning their campers. "I thought they'd never settle down," Susan complained. "We should have sent them back to their cabins to start getting ready at 9," Cheryl said sarcastically, "Because they take forever to put all those creams and potions on their faces. They must think they're going to a prom tomorrow night!" This comment led quite quickly to the subject of the following evening. "You guys better look out," Cheryl said with a snicker, "because it's not the 15 year old boys these sweet innocent young ladies are after. Whatever you do, don't let them get you alone!" "Do they hunt in packs?" one of the other male counsellors asked with a laugh, joining in the fun. "Yes, but they're really most dangerous one on one. Since men are suckers for the old 'helpless female' routine, and these woods are a perfect spot for an ambush, be careful! If you do get trapped by one of them, don't be a hero, call for backup!" Peter was already nervous about the dance. He had attended a few that were organized between the "all boys" schools with some of the neighbouring "all girls" schools, but that hardly counted. And he was going to be selected by one of the Grade 10 girls to be her "date", and expected to dance with her and the other "couples" to start the proceedings. It was a ritual of the camp. He was hoping that the required musical selection called for a slow dance. He thought he could pull that off without making too big a fool of himself! Once the fire was extinguished, everyone became aware of how dark it was, as the outdoor lights that lit the camp were now off. Stephen and Peter each had brought a flashlight, and offered to lead the others back to their cabins. They split up, each taking a small group, and Peter had the good fortune to end up with Cheryl and Susan as his last two escorts. The three of them whispered back and forth as they stumbled along the rough pathway between the student cabins that led back to the outer edge of the camp, where their respective quarters were located. When Susan tripped for what must have been the third time, he felt her hand slip into his for support as they walked carefully along, following the beam of the flashlight. Peter had never held a girl's hand before, and found it to be both tantalizing, and exquisite! Unfortunately, this wonderful state of affairs ended all too soon! As they stood at the door sharing some final thoughts on the day, he noticed that she didn't remove her hand from his grasp even though she no longer needed any support. When they said their goodbyes, she gave his palm a little squeeze, and then disappeared inside the door. Later, as he tried vainly to go to sleep, the little gesture kept coming back into his mind; making for a very restless night! * * * "When I warned Peter about the 'helpless female' routine," Cheryl said a little sarcastically, as they got into their beds, "I didn't expect he'd be in serious danger from the likes of you, missy!" "My sandals weren't designed for that kind of walking," Susan replied sheepishly. "Right!" Cheryl chuckled, and then she said in a high false voice, "Oh, Peter, you're so big and strong, and I'm so small and weak. Please help me?" "Shut up ... mind your own business ... and go to sleep!" Susan said, not quite managing to stifle a laugh. "OK, my princess ... sweet dreams!" an amused Cheryl said as she turned out the light. * * * The next morning Cheryl and Susan were up early, so they could shower and get dressed ahead of the campers. As they walked back to their cabin in their bath robes, they heard a wolf whistle, and then saw Stephen heading towards them as he walked in the direction of the boys community washroom. He had a beach towel wrapped around his waist, and his shaving kit and a few clothes in his hands. Susan admired the well defined muscles that rippled across his chest, shoulders and upper arms. She felt a slight tingle of desire as she admired him; talk about hot! "Are you wearing anything under those robes, ladies?" he said cheerfully as he approached them. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Cheryl teased, sticking her tongue out at him. Susan giggled. She knew that Stephen and Cheryl were very good friends, and that Cheryl was helping him with the hike that morning. "Maybe you could undo them ... even a little ...just for me." Stephen said, grinning at Cheryl, "I don't know very much about girls." "Right ... I really believe that mister!" Cheryl said sarcastically, grinning right back at him, "But, as sad as your situation is, we won't be able to help you out right now, some of the campers might be up, and get to see. We can't go around corrupting impressionable young minds, now can we?" "Damn!" Stephen exclaimed, feigning disappointment. "Tell you what," Cheryl said, "Since you're so pathetically desperate, maybe I'll let you have a look some other time; if you're nice to me all day long. Can you do that?" "Yes?" Stephen said; and then he added with a grin, "Really ... no clothes?" "Promise ... now go get ready for the hike 'cause I'm going to be waking up our girls in 20 more minutes, and you don't want them to catch you like that. They're fantasizing enough about you as it is!" Stephen continued on his way, giving them a wave with his hand as he continued down the path. "If we weren't in the middle of the camp, I would have given him a quick peek ... just for fun," Cheryl explained with a giggle. "And people talk about me," Susan said, a little incredulous, "You would have actually flashed him?" "Sure, why not?" Cheryl said brightly, "It's not like I'm going to be making a play for him, we're just friends; although I'm sure he'd enjoy checking me out, he is a guy after all! Maybe I'll invite him to go skinny-dipping with me, so I can see what a hunk like that looks like in the buff! "But wouldn't he tell everyone he saw you naked?" Susan asked, still curious. "Of course not; why would he?" "Well boys like to brag about things like that!" "No they don't ... the only boys who do that are the juvenile types you were dating. Guys like Stephen don't run around telling stories so they can feel important in front of their buddies." When they were dressed and ready for the day, the two of them had enormous fun waking up their girls. As they entered each cabin, Susan banged the empty bucket from the fire pit with a stick while Cheryl gave her impression of a marine drill sergeant in an ugly mood. The girls got up, but not without some protests, and some less than polite language. "Hit the shower, ladies!" Cheryl ordered, "Breakfast in 30 minutes; and the hike starts right after that." By the time the Mr. Evans got up to introduce the day, even the stragglers had gotten their breakfasts. He exposed a flip chart which divided the campers into teams, and explained that the morning would be given over to a hike, followed by an early lunch, a break, and then rotational activities in the afternoon, including the ropes course. At 4, everyone who wished to could break for a swim, or just relax before dinner, which would be followed by some further teambuilding activities, and then the dance. Suddenly Susan became aware that one of the Grade 10 boys, Greg, was standing beside her, looking very embarrassed. Having gotten her attention, he stammered out a request that she become his "date" for the evening. Nearby, she noticed, a group of his friends, who had probably put him up to it, or dared him, enjoying his discomfiture with a high degree of mirth. "They probably heard about me from older brothers or sisters," she thought with an inward sigh, "heaven knows what they told him!" But then she remembered that she was now the "new" Susan, and shouldn't worry about that; so she thanked him with a gentle smile, and told him she was looking forward to dancing with him later on. At about the same time, she saw two girls trying to elbow each other out of the way so they could ask Peter for a "date". Fortunately Stephen, no doubt sensing a minor disaster for one of the girls, got immediately up and stood beside Peter, so there would be a "date" for each of them, much to the disappointment, no doubt, of several other girls who were heading in his direction! When the "dating" ritual was over, everyone left the dining hall to get ready for the hike, except, of course, for counsellors such as Susan, who would spend the morning preparing their activities. * * * When she got to the ropes course, Peter was already there, and hard at work. She watched him for a few moments as he tested knot after knot; adjusting them when he wasn't satisfied. He clearly knew what he was doing! Susan called out to him, and he gave her a wave. "Over here!" he called to her, "I need some help with a few things." After Peter explained what to do, they worked their way along a number of the more difficult obstacles, with Susan climbing along the routes the campers would traverse while Peter observed; after which he would adjust the tension in the lines until he was satisfied. It was fairly hard work for Susan, as she often had to complete a section of the course two or even three times so Peter could determine if various corrections were adequate. Susan noticed that Peter was quite different with her in this environment; much more confident and less shy than previously. "You look hot," he finally said to her, "maybe we should take a break." "I thought the campers were going to do all the work?" Susan replied, a little breathless. "You must be in pretty good shape," he offered in an admiring tone, "a lot of people aren't fit enough to help me test a course that quickly." "Cheryl had me playing volleyball on her competitive team this summer; and you have to work out every day. The first two weeks nearly killed me, but eventually I enjoyed it. I'm going to try out for the senior girl's team at school." The two of them sat down on a bench in the shade. Peter passed her a bottle of cool water, which she drank thirstily. As they sat there in silence, Susan noticed that Peter was reverting to his pattern of shyness with her, so she decided that a bold step was necessary. "Peter, may I ask you something personal?" "What is it?" "Do you have a girlfriend?" Susan queried, even though she was quite certain of the answer. "That's a laugh" Peter answered. "Why?" "The way my father had us moving around; and being in all boys schools all the time; I hardly ever got to even talk to a girl, much less go around with one!" he continued a little bitterly. "Well things can be different this year," Susan said in an encouraging tone. "Yeah, right," Peter said ruefully, "I'm must look like the Mickey Mouse Club to girls like you and Cheryl. I've never even been on a date!" "I'm sure lots of girls would love to go out on a date with you," Susan said, "Maybe you should try asking?" she added, looking straight into his eyes. Peter flushed and averted his gaze as he reacted to this artless invitation. "What's wrong?" she asked gently, wondering if she had gone too far. "Well ... well, not only have I never been on a date ... I've never kissed a girl ... nothing!" he blurted out in a hopeless way, hanging his head. "Well you'll just have to learn," Susan said sympathetically, taking his hand in hers, "It's not that hard you know." "Peter?" "Yes." "Would you like to kiss me?" "Yes," he answered in a barely audible whisper. "And so you shall ... but first you need to know a few things," Susan said, taking charge of the situation. "Now listen up class, Kissing 101 is now in session; and remember there will be a test. Shall I take attendance first?" she added with a tiny giggle. Even Peter, although he was clearly nervous, had to laugh with her. Susan put a hand on her hip and pointed skyward with a finger, as if she was addressing a group of students. "Firstly," she continued in a professorial way, "the problem with guys is that you're always in a hurry to put things inside of girls ... tongues, fingers, other stuff." Peter blushed at this observation, but Susan continued, ignoring his embarrassment. "I know you can't help yourselves, but girls don't generally like to be rushed, so you have to exercise some self control. This definitely applies to kissing." "You start with just lip to lip contact, nice and soft and gentle; get it? You close your eyes and tilt your head one way, and she'll tilt hers the other. For a first kiss, a few seconds max is plenty, just long enough so she knows she's been kissed, but no more. When you break the kiss off, try to let it linger slightly. For a lot of girls, that's all they'll allow on a first or second date, so don't try to force things. "Now after you've kissed that way a few times, if you sense she likes you well enough, you can 'up the ante', and try for something more intimate. Start with the same sort of gentle kiss, but this time, you can open your mouth a little and let the tip of your tongue caress her lips. If she doesn't respond by letting her mouth open, then don't go any farther. But if she does, then just try to meet her tongue with yours; don't try to thrust it all the way into her mouth until she practically gags!" "And another thing, when you first kiss a girl, you are usually standing up. The best thing is if you take her by the waist. If she wants an embrace, she'll put her arms around your neck. If she does this, whatever you do, don't do something stupid like moving your hands all over the place; so that you show her that you're just another sex crazed gorilla like every other boy she's dated!" "Now then, it's time for you to practice. C'mon over here and stand beside me by this tree ... like we just got home from a date, and you're at my front door." * * * Peter stood up and followed Susan, pulse racing and heart hammering. He noticed that Susan seemed quite relaxed; and her wonderful eyes were full of sparkle. "Put your hands on my waist," she commanded. Peter nervously put a hand lightly on each side of her. He knew he was trembling, but he couldn't help himself. "You can hold onto me more than that," she admonished with a laugh, "I won't break, I promise you." "Sorry," Peter said in a low voice, "I'm kind of nervous." "Well don't be ... now then, lean forward and kiss me." Peter gave Susan a short gentle kiss on the lips, and then pulled away, elated. He had actually kissed a girl! "That wasn't too bad, in fact it was pretty fair for a first effort," Susan said with a smile, "but you forgot the lingering part just at the end. Remember, your objective with a first or second kiss is to make her want to kiss you more ... a lot more! Try it again." Peter gave Susan another kiss, and this time he didn't end the kiss so abruptly. Some of his nervousness had lessened as he experienced the heavenly feeling of holding a beautiful girl and kissing her. "That was nice," Susan said warmly, "... I'm not sure, but I think maybe the girl might like you, so perhaps you should try something a little bolder."