Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Copyright 2004.



   "It's a Girl Thing"

   ------------------

   Marie Marshall

   Carla was reckoned to be the sexiest girl in the school.  Maybe not the
prettiest, but you don't have to be pretty to be sexy.  She was pretty
enough, but her strong point, on which everyone agreed, was that she was
very, very sexy.  Not that anyone had any stories about things she had done
- she had no "reputation" as such, except as a girl who liked to look good.
She had dark hair in a bob, with a cute flick by each cheek.  She wore her
skirts very short, to show off her long legs, but no one could ever
remember catching a glimpse of her knickers.  I say "skirts", but in fact
she had at some time cottoned on to the fact that one item of our optional
school uniform was still the dark blue "gym slip" - a skirt with a bib
front, and two cross-over shoulder straps.  She had bought a couple of
these at the school outfitter's shop, shortened the skirt to mini length,
and turned up one day looking as sexy as hell!  She turned so many heads
that she was responsible for a score of ricked necks!  She affected a sort
of 60s retro-chic to go with the "gymmie"; her blouses had spear-point
collars, and she fastened her tie right up to the neck.  Her cuffs were
always fastened.  She topped off the dolly-bird look with a red PVC mack,
the hem of which was exactly the same length as her skirt.  Bobbed hair,
red mack, long, pale legs, black shoes - she looked fantastic!

   She also affected the bored expression of someone who knows she is
totally cool, and doesn't have to bother trying.  Many people thought her
unapproachable or unfriendly, but it was just part of the act.  She was
civil, even friendly, if you could get a word out of her.

   She knew me to say hello to.  I'm Lauren, by the way.  At the time of
this story I was a year younger than Carla (it's funny to say it like that,
but I guess I still am!).  I admired her, and copied her gym-slip look. 
But I had long, brown hair and a high forehead, and I was skinny too, so
the whole thing just made me look much younger than I was.

   OK, for what it's worth, I guess I had a bit of a crush on her.  If I
hadn't, none of what I am about to describe would have happened.  Or would
it?  I don't know.  Perhaps I was generally naïve enough for it to have
happened anyway.

   I was walking home from school one day.  There was someone I wanted to
avoid, so I was skulking in a tangle of tall bushes by the footpath,
keeping very quiet until they were well past my hiding-place.  When they
had gone, I was just about to venture out, when I thought I heard
something. It sounded like contented little sighs - someone breathing
quiet, regular little "mmmmh" sounds.  Was I imagining it?  No, there it
was again, I could definitely hear it.  I crept as silently as I could
through the bushes until I could see, between some leaves, that a little
space had been made in the deepest part of the thicket, like a den or
hideaway.  There was someone there, and I moved to get a better view.

   I saw that it was Carla.  She had put her PVC coat down on the bare
earth, and was sitting on it.  But what was she doing?  She had her legs
apart, stretched out wide.  Her skirt was hitched up round her waist, and
she had her right hand down the front of her knickers!  She was moving her
hand, and giving these little sighs that I heard.  Her eyes were closed,
and her lips were parted slightly.  She was obviously doing something to
her vagina - the rude girl!  I had never seen anything like this before!

   I was so surprised that I gasped, and moved too suddenly, making more
noise than I had intended.  Carla opened her eyes.

   "Who's there?  Who the hell's that?"

   "It's only me - Lauren - I didn't mean to startle you!"

   "Oh, it's you.  Come in here, but keep your voice down!"

   She had stopped moving her hand, but had not taken it out of her
knickers, and when I joined her in the den, she gently started to move it
again.  Her eyes were heavy-lidded, as if she was half asleep.

   "What are you doing?" I asked in a whisper.

   "Rubbing myself," she replied.

   "Why?" I asked, puzzled.

   "Because it's so nice!" she said.  "It's a girl thing.  Haven't you ever
done it?"

   "No," I said, truthfully.  "Is it really nice.  It seems a bit of a
strange thing to do - rude."

   "Well come here and I'll show you.  Here, sit on part of my coat.  Now,
stretch your legs out.  A bit wider.  That's it."

   I must admit, I felt a bit of a thrill when I opened my legs like that.
The thrill turned into a little shock, when Carla reached her left hand
over, hitched my skirt up around my waist, so that my knickers were
completely exposed, and slipped her hand down the front of them!  This was
the first time that anyone else had ever touched me there, right on my
vagina.  She began to rub her hand gently up and down, the whole length of
my down-there lips.  It did feel so rude, and I was getting butterflies in
my stomach.  She was right, it was nice, even if this was all there was to
it.

   But of course there was more to it.  Gradually, as she rubbed me, she
increased the pressure of her middle finger, until it was forcing my lips
gently apart.  I could feel that finger slide gently between them.  It
moved easily, because I found that I was becoming wet down there.  Her
finger probed a little deeper with each movement, and I found myself
feeling more and more excited, ruder and ruder.

   "You've got to do it to me too," said Carla.  She had taken her own hand
out of her knickers, but was still sitting with her legs apart.  I reached
across with my right hand, and slipped it down the front of her knickers.
This was absolutely the rudest thing I had ever done in my life!  I copied
what she was doing to me.  Her vagina was already wet, and my finger
slipped easily between her lips.

   Gradually, Carla concentrated her fingering on my actual opening, and I
tried to match her movements - a little clumsily - until I found her
opening too.  Then gently she pushed her finger inside me, little by little
with each stroke, until it was as deep as she could push it.  (I should
explain that although I was a complete virgin, I had already popped, due to
exertions in gym class, so I wasn't intact.) I could hardly breath - this
felt so good, so rude, so sexy.  This was sex!  This wasn't just being a
bit rude, this was sex!  I was having sex!

   I had been so concentrated on what Carla was doing to me, that I forgot
to reciprocate.  She whispered, "Go on, Lauren.  Go on.  Do it to me too!"
So I pushed my middle finger deep into her, and she gave a satisfied
"ohhhh!" For a while we sat there, moving our fingers deep into each other,
and back out again.  Now we were both making those contented little sighs
and murmurs.

   It began to occur to me that one reason why this felt so good, was the
person with whom I was doing it.  I really liked Carla, I was really keen
on her.  As I said before, I had a crush on her.  So I was pleased when she
snuggled as close as she could to me.  She turned her face towards me.  To
me, as I felt so rude and sexy, she looked so beautiful; certainly being
turned on did lend something more to her face - those heavy-lidded eyes,
those full lips parted.

   She said, "I'm glad it's you here with me.  I'm glad it's you I'm doing
this with."

   "Mmmm.  Me too."

   She leant over and planted a little kiss on my lips.  I was a bit
surprised, but it was nice to be kissed, particularly by her, and
particularly while my vagina was being so nicely fingered!

   She kissed me again, and held her lips against mine.  She kept kissing
me like that, pulling away, and kissing me again.

   "No, do it like they do on TV," she said, and approached me again with
her lips parted.  I opened my mouth a little, and she started to give me a
proper snog.  Oh it was so good.  Her lips were soft and sweet, and her
kiss was just right - tender, gentle, sexy.

   Suddenly I realised she was doing something a little different to my
vagina, and I tried again to match her movements.  Gradually she withdrew
her finger from deep inside me, and began to stroke upwards towards the
topmost part of my down-there lips.  Then with the tip of her finger she
found my little secret place - so secret I hardly had realised it was there
myself until now, and began to rub gently at it.  I felt little sparks of
intense pleasure, as she rubbed around it, and made surprised little "ooh!"
noises.

   Carla broke off kissing me to say, "There.  That's your lovely little
clit!" Then she went back to kissing me.

   I searched for hers with my probing finger, and I knew when I had found
it, because she gave a little wriggle of pleasure, and a short gasp from
her briefly interrupted our kissing.  Please understand that I was very
naïve and very inexperienced at the time of this adventure.  I had never
masturbated myself - I don't think I even knew the word - and here I was
being done by the girl I idolised, and was doing it back to her.  I can
tell you, my head was spinning!

   I didn't know what to expect.  I had never had an orgasm in my life, so
I was completely unprepared for the build-up of emotion and sensation.  It
felt as if, simultaneously, someone had emptied a packet of sherbet right
on my vagina, tickled me, hurt me somewhere undefined, and knocked me over
(I know, I was already sitting down, you don't have to tell me!).  Bells
rang in my head, and I must have screamed or something because Carla's free
hand clamped over my mouth!

   Of course I entirely lost the plot of what I was supposed to be doing
inside Carla's knickers.  When I came to my senses, my hand was still
between her legs, but it was hard against the ground, propping me up,
stopping me from falling into her lap.

   Whispering "Ssshh!" in my ear, Carla took her hand from my mouth.

   "Now then," she said.  "Didn't I tell you it was nice?" I could only nod
my head, dumbly.  I still hadn't quite got over what had happened, and I
was sitting there wondering whether this counted as losing my virginity. 
Carla looked at me for a while, as I sat there like a startled kitten, and
then she shrugged her shoulders.

   "Well, if you want something doing, do it yourself, I suppose!"

   The next moment I realised what she meant.  Obviously she hadn't come.
She popped her hand back in her own knickers, and jiggled it around for a
couple of minutes - I guess I should have offered, but I was still in
startled kitten mode - and then shut her eyes and gasped as she came.  She
sighed, and opened her eyes again.

   "OK girlie," she said.  "Come one.  Let's get out of here."

   She stood up, and I did too, although rather shakily.  She dusted my
down, dislodged the few leaves that had caught in my hair, smoothed her own
clothes down, and shook her red coat.  Slinging it over her shoulders
loosely, like a cape, she stepped carefully through the thicket, with me in
tow.  Coming to the edge, she stuck out her pretty bob, and looked this way
and that.  I just loved the way her hair flicked when she did that.  No one
was coming, so she stepped onto the path, and motioned me to follower her.

   We walked homeward together.  We didn't say much - just trivial talk,
had we got any homework, were we going to watch such-and-such on the telly,
and so on.  I desperately wanted to tell her I loved her, but I didn't
dare.

   At the end of my street, we said goodbye.

   "See you tomorrow at school, girlie!" she said, and walked off with a
light, springy step, swinging her school bag.

   *

   The next day, I turned up at school with my coat draped over my
shoulders like a cape.  I thought I looked cool, but then my coat wasn't a
stylish little 60s-retro PVC number!

   Carla was in a corner of the yard, talking to a couple of her mates. 
She spotted me and said something to them.  They turned their heads to look
at me, and then started talking again.  I blushed with embarrassment.  But
Carla detached herself from them and walked over to me.  I felt as proud as
a princess as she came up to me.

   "You look like Batman!" she said, which rather crushed me.  I didn't
know what to say in reply.  I felt like making a catty remark, but this was
the girl I loved, the sexiest girl in the school, the girl who had given me
my first sexual experience the day before.  I wanted her to like me, not
loathe and bully me.  I know now that when someone is in love, this is the
sort of agony they can go through, on a minute-by-minute basis - I've been
through it a score of times since!  Sheepishly I took my coat off and slung
it over one arm.

   But on this occasion, Carla brought the sun out again.  She smiled at
me, and said, "Meet me at the gate at going-home time, girlie!" Then she
strolled back to her mates.

   I don't know how I managed to get through that school day.  It dragged
by.  Whatever I was doing, I kept thinking about Carla.  I went to the
toilet with nerves about ten times!  As the final bell of the day rang, I
sprinted for the gate, in case she had got out early, or had forgotten
about our rendezvous.  As it turned out, I had to hang around for about
fifteen minutes, as other pupils walked past.  Some of them gave me odd
looks, and I began to wonder whether some sort of story had gone round
school about me - "Lauren's got a silly crush on Carla!" I pretended to be
part of the gatepost!

   Then I saw her coming along, talking to the same couple of mates she had
been with at the beginning of the day.  Oh no, she was either going to walk
home with them, or she was going to ignore me!  But no, as she almost drew
level with me, she said, "See ya later!" to the other girls, and walked
over to me.  She had a cheeky smile on her face, and was chewing gum.  She
tucked her arm through mine, and we set off down the road.  Again we talked
a little about trivia - got any homework, what do you think about
so-and-so's new record.

   Suddenly she said, "Missed me, girlie?"

   "Yes."

   "Missed you too.  Couldn't wait for going home time."

   I was in princess mode again!  I was going to suggest going into the
bushes again - we were nearly up to them - but it wasn't as warm today, and
it looked as though it might rain.  Anyhow, I was still painfully shy.  But
I took my courage in both hands, and said, "Do you want to come back to my
house?  No one will be home for at least a couple of hours."

   "Yeah, OK.  I'll have to phone my mum and let her know where I am,
though."

   We quickened our step and, both smiling at the prospect of some time on
our own, made off for my house.  When we got there, I showed her into the
lounge.  She didn't even let me get my coat off, before she caught hold of
me round the waist and pulled me towards her.

   "Come here, you!"

   We stood there in the middle of the room, arms round each other,
kissing. I was in bliss.  My ears were tingling, my heart was thumping,
butterflies were doing a tango in my tummy, and I felt like bursting into
tears!  Those sweet lips on mine - tasting of mint from her gum!  That
sweet breath in my nostrils, mingling with the pheromone blast from her
hair.  Her fingers were running up and down my spine, and every time they
passed over a sensitive spot, it made me jump; but that only had the effect
of pressing my lower abdomen closer to hers!  My own fingers were caressing
the back of her neck, and I could sense she liked that.  In fact she
momentarily broke off kissing me.

   "Tickles!  Nice!"

   We came up for air, and she heaved a happy sigh.  "Well, that was worth
waiting all day for!" We threw our coats onto a chair, and headed for the
settee, where we sat down and put our arms round each other.  We kissed
again.  In fact we kissed and kissed and kissed.  And then we kissed some
more.  It was lovely, but I began to get restless - you know - down there,
and I started to wriggle and fidget a little.

   "I suppose you're waiting for me to wank you again!" said Carla.  I had
never even heard the word before, but I guessed she meant doing that "girl
thing" to my vagina again!  I didn't know what to say, so I just said
nothing.  It seemed that whenever I was with Carla, I swung between
princess and startled kitten modes!  Anyhow, she was always full of
surprises, and she sprung one now by suddenly thrusting a hand right up my
"gymmie" and under my blouse, and starting to play gently with my nipples.
This was a new thing to me - another new thing - and I remembered her
instruction of the day before to do to her whatever she did to me.  So I
put my hand up her "gymmie", only I got it horribly wrong, came up outside
her blouse, and my hand emerged half-caught in one of her shoulder straps.
She laughed, and I blushed scarlet, as I tried to extricate my hand.

   "Try again, Lauren babe!" she said.  This was one of the few times I had
heard her call me by my name, rather than just "girlie".  Anyhow, I did get
my hand in the right place, and found her nipples.  After that we went
quiet and peaceful for a while, just lips against lips, fingers against
nipples.  Carla's eyes began to half-close, which I quickly recognised as a
sign of her feeling sexy.

   "Mmmm - Lauren!" she murmured, as if savouring the sound - or taste - of
my name on her tongue.

   "Oh, Carla!" I longed to say three words to her - I love you - but still
I didn't dare.  But her caressing and tweaking of my buds was beginning to
get to me, and I felt so utterly - what is the right word - given over,
surrendered, ready.

   "Do you know what 'plate' means?" she asked suddenly.  My mind went in
silly circles.  What?  Silver plate?  Staffordshire plate?  Batter's plate
in baseball?  What was she going on about?  What did this have to do with
love or sex?

   She detached herself from me.

   "Take your knickers off," she ordered, but in fact she just reached up
my skirt and pulled them down herself.  Then she pulled her own down and
got back on the settee; but she confused me by leaning away from me - what
was she doing?  I soon found out.  She pushed my legs apart, so that my
vagina was exposed to the air, then bobbed her head down, and started to do
to my secret place, with her tongue, what she had done the day before with
her finger!

   Rude!  Dirty!  Startled kitten mode again!

   But it was fantastic!

   After a few licks, she stopped and looked round.  "There.  That's plate.
I'm plating you.  You plate me!" She bobbed her head down again, and that
lovely licking started once more.  If I had stopped to think about it,
perhaps I wouldn't have done it; but I didn't stop to think about it!  She
had already parted her legs for me, and so I just leant in closer and
closer.......

   By now you are all used to descriptions of close-up first sights of a
lover's vagina - you must be if you read all these stories!  I looked at
Carla's - it was beautiful.  You must be used to descriptions of catching
the first scent of a lover's vagina.  I caught Carla's - it was beautiful.
You must be used to descriptions of the first taste of a lover's vagina,
and how her secret place felt against the tongue.  I tasted and touched
Carla's - it was beautiful!

   You must also be used to descriptions of how two girls licking each
other slowly bring each other to orgasm.  These descriptions are ten a
penny, and they are all true and realistic - even the fantastic ones are
realistic!  Do I need to spell it out how it was when Carla and I licked
each other like this for the first time?

   I have absolutely no idea how long we went on for - it could have been
ten seconds, or half an hour.  I only know that as the sensation in me
built up again to that sherbet-on-the-vagina, tickle, hurt, knock-out
moment, the fact that we were doing it to each other with our tongues made
me call myself names inside my head.

   Rude!  Rude Lauren!  Dirty girl!  Dirty, dirty, dirty!

   And as this name-calling built up, so my emotions overcame me, and a
duet started in my head.....

   Lovely Carla!  Beautiful Carla!  Love you!  Love you!  Love you!

   Rude!  Rude Lauren!  Dirty girl!  Dirty, dirty dirty!

   Rude.....  love.......  Beautiful .......  Dirty.......  Carla....... 
Ohhh!

   Sherbet time was coming!  This time I did not want to let Carla down, so
I hung on to her like grim death!  I fastened my arms around her bottom,
and pressed my mouth against her vagina, licking as hard and fast as I
could.  She was licking me hard too!  Sherbet time!  Sherbet time!  Oh
lovely, wonderful, sherbet time - as we stiffened and bucked in each
other's arms, and then collapsed.

   Silence for a while.  Then........

   "Lauren, I can't breathe!  Let go!"

   We each carefully moved an arm here, a leg there, and became gradually
detached.  I turned round, and looked at Carla.  Her bob was tousled, her
cheeks were flushed, her mouth was moist (from me!).  She looked so utterly
beautiful!

   "That was a success, I think," I said brightly.

   "That.  Was.  Fucking.  Brilliant!" A rude word in her mouth gave me a
bit of a shock, but I grinned and cuddled her.

   Well, let's cut a long story short.  We got back into our knickers,
tidied ourselves up, and then sat and cuddled for a while.  We organised
another date.  Let's cut the story shorter - we went steady.  It wasn't a
public thing, although I suppose her mates knew about it, or guessed. 
Sometimes I was "allowed" to hang around with them - a cool in-crowd at our
school - so that they would not get the impression that Carla was cutting
them.  Carla and I made love two maybe three times a week, if circumstances
allowed.  Sometimes we used the "den" in the bushes, sometimes either her
house or mine was free, sometimes we found an after-dark place where we
could cuddle, kiss, and caress each other.

   Eventually...........

   Eventually she left school, and I left town.  My parents decided, almost
on the spur of the moment, to move to Australia!  I hardly had an
opportunity to tell Carla, let alone to say goodbye to her.  I now realise
that I never, ever, ever said what I wanted to say to her.

   I love you.

   In my new environment, in a new culture, other girls were fascinated by
my accent and by my tales of life in the UK.  I soon learned to tell which
ones were fascinated by me as a person.  And so I got a few good dates, and
learned to be comfortable about sex.  I even fell in love - I have a steady
girlfriend now, and she's a good lover, she gives me a good "sherbet time"!
And I guess I love her, in a cool and easy way.  I have said those three
words to her a few times, and she has said them back.

   But you all know this: there is something really special about one's
first lover.  There will never, ever be anyone like that again.  Other
people will mean something special in their own way, and one day someone
will even make you complete.  But lover number one stays in the heart, like
a single plant that has taken root, and the root goes too deep to dig up
without killing you.

   So I hope that - somehow - Carla might be reading this.  Carla, there's
something I always wanted to tell you, so I'm telling you now.  For always.

   I love you.





   Copyright 2004.  Marie Marshall