Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. <HEAD> <META NAME="shs-author" CONTENT="WojoMartin: as ChasteChicken"> <META NAME="shs-title" CONTENT="Ashbury"> <META NAME="shs-summary" CONTENT="Flirty romance blossoms between high school boy and precocious middle school girl."> <META NAME="shs-keywords" CONTENT="mg, rom, virginity"> </HEAD> ASHBURY By Chastechicken ***This is a flirty, romantic love story between a high school freshman boy and a precocious middle school girl. Over the course of an entire school year, her unconventional way of looking at life, sex and love leads him to a world of happiness he couldn't have imagined ever coming his way. Not a "quick stroke" story, but the sexual banter and play starts early and holds up throughout. Romance, mg, virginity*** In the fall of 2007, there were all kinds of "Ashes" in my small town school. There were four Ashleys, an Ashleigh, and two Ashtons. There was one Ashbury. There will only ever be one Ashbury. Ashbury's maternal grandfather had been Nelson Rhodes, a moderately famous musician in the 1960's. He was as hippie as hippie could be. Ashbury's gorgeous grandma had been an actress in the late 1960's, and damned near "made it." We still find her turning up in a small role in an old movie or TV re-run, but she never got to be a household name. They raised a beautiful daughter, Nature, in a hippie fashion that was already going out of vogue when she was growing up in the early 70's. Nature followed the family tradition of not quite becoming a household name. She was a moderately successful author in the "chick lit" genre. She was courted by a few celebrities, but never married, and never even had a relationship that lasted more than two years. But she did have a gorgeous daughter and named her after the place Nature's parents had always described as some kind of paradise, the Haight-Ashbury District of San Francisco. Obviously, Haight wasn't going to be the name of a lovechild, but the name Ashbury Rhodes struck Nature as beautiful. Ashbury herself struck everyone as beautiful. When Ashbury was in fifth grade, her mother had decided to settle in our little town because it was quiet and peaceful and the leisurely pace of our lifestyle allowed her ample time to write. Ashbury was blossoming early, getting taller than most of the other ten-year-old girls and developing a bit of a curve to her hips. If one of us eighth grade guys saw her at a distance, her wavy blonde hair falling down her slender back, we would meander that way, thinking it was one of the girls our age. That happened to me a couple times. It would have been embarrassing if she didn't always say hello and flip her hair back when she saw me. She was such a damned pretty little thing and had such an easygoing manner that she made you a little happier just for having seen her. When eleven-year-old Ashbury hit sixth grade, she had blossomed even further. The curve to her slender hips was more pronounced. A few of the other sixth grade girls might have qualified as having a cute little bottom, but Ashbury had a small but nicely rounded ba-donk. She was only about a year shy of having a tight, traffic-stopping little ba-donk-a-donk. But it was the top of her that showed the most obvious sign of physical precociousness. Little girl was stacked. Like most of the middle school girls in our town, she liked tight little shorts and necklines that dared you to take notice. With Ashbury, boys definitely did take notice. Still, she wouldn't really have been part of my world if she hadn't been such a talented musician. She was Nelson Rhodes' granddaughter after all. She spent all of one day i