Message-ID: <60650asstr$1285287002@assm.asstr.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} -- "Your Zee" -- Uther -- (mf pett Mf rom)
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Date: Thu, 23 Sep 2010 20:10:02 -0400
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This material is copyright, 2010, by Uther Pendragon. All rights
reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping one
electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is
included. Reposting requires previous permission.
If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to me at
nogardnePrethU@gmail.com .
All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public
figures in the background, are figments of my imagination. Any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


Your Zee
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

mf pett MF rom



Tina had a guest for dinner. Although she was two-and-a-half years
younger, she had guests. Guys who visited me were just Dave's friends
even when Mom fed them. Anyway, Zee was not entirely awful. She
didn't giggle, she didn't simper, and her hair was long and clean and
black. I was polite to her, having had that fight with Mom before. After
dinner, it was raining. Dad drove Zee home.

"Zee, dear?" Mom asked when they were out the door.

"Please, Mom, don't call her Zenobia. She hates that. Her parents are
awful hippies, and she has to live with everything they do, including her
name."

"And what suffering do you tell her you bear from your parents? No!
Don't answer that. You tell me often enough."

"I have to put up with Dave."

"I said not to answer that. And, occasionally, having a big brother is an
advantage."

Well, occasionally having a friend's big brother is a help, too. Sometime
later, I saw Fred and Joe playing keep away with Zee's backpack.
Well, she'd been nice enough, they were both total shits, and they were
seventh-graders ganging up on a sixth-grader. I waited until Fred swung
the bag back to toss it to Joe. Then, I grabbed his arm in both hands
and twisted -- hard. He dropped the bag.

"Zee, get over by Mr. Jenkins." She had brains enough to do as I said,
grabbing up her backpack as she went. "Real big guys, aren't you?
Picking on a little girl!"

"What's it to you?" Joe asked.

"She's a friend of Tina's. Do I need a reason?" There was bragging and
threatening talk until a teacher came over to tell us to break it up, but I
knew that they weren't going to fight. Fights in the school yard start at
once. And I was a year older. They could both take me, but the first
one to attack might have had problems if the second one hadn't joined
in.

Then, I graduated. I didn't see Zee for two years. I heard about her a
couple of times. She and Tina were best friends, enemies, and friends
again. I may have missed a few shifts; I tried to ignore what Tina said.
At the start of my junior year, Zee got to high school. I noticed her hair.
It was even longer, and she stood out.

"Zee?"

"Dave. My hero. You remember me?"

"Well, sure. And I'm not anybody's hero."

"You protected me from Fred."

"Once."

"He stopped picking on me for the rest of that year. Went back the
next year, though. I suppose he's here now."

"Yeah. I see him now and then. He'll be busy bullying somebody else.
Look, I've got to run." Though, of course, I didn't run. Running in the
halls was not only grounds for suspension, it was impossible while
classes were changing.

I spoke with her twice more, except for occasional waves when we
were going opposite directions between classes, in the next month.
After the third conversation, Carol challenged me over lunch. Carol
was my steady, and we always ate lunch at the same table.

"Why were you talking with that dweeb?"

"Which dweeb?"

"That freshman girl. Hair like a witch." I thought Zee's hair was pretty.
My guess is that Carol did, too. It was jealousy talking.

"Zee? She's a friend of my sister's. I know her, and we talk once a
week if that." But I had enough problems with Carol just then. I didn't
stop by Zee's locker any more. I was taking driver's ed that term.
When I got my license, Dad put me through a second exam -- he was
much pickier than either Mr. Schwartz or the guy at the licensing
facility. Before he let me drive her to dances Carol's father -- Mr.
Garretson --  put me through an inquiry which the FBI would envy.
Then, Carol and I were driving to and -- much more important -- back
from dances. I had too much on my mind to worry about Zee. I still
thought of her as Tina's friend.

It was late in spring when Carol broke up with me. She had to do it in
front of the whole cafeteria. It was Wednesday, and the next dance
was on that Friday. Any girl I asked would know that she was definitely
second choice, and so would everyone else. Nobody would accept. I
had the choice of going stag and watching Carol dance with Warren --
I knew who was waiting in the wings -- or of staying home. Then I
thought of a third option.

Zee was a freshman like Tina. Tina had won the right to go to dances
after a long battle. Maybe Zee had, too. And Zee wouldn't mind being
the second choice of a junior. I figured this all out during algebra class.
Luckily, Mr. Zelinski was too nearsighted to notice that I wasn't paying
attention. I went by Zee's locker at the end of the day.

"Zee?"

"Oh, hi Dave." She didn't smart-mouth me about how I'd been ignoring
her like Carol -- even Tina -- would have done. On the other hand, I
could tell by her tone that she'd noticed.

"Zee, do your parents let you go to dances?"

"I suppose."

"You don't have a date to Friday's dance do you?" Which was a stupid
question for a girl who only 'supposed' that she was allowed to attend. I
was more nervous than I had any right to be.

"No."

"Would you like to go with me? I mean, Zee, would you be my date for
the dance Friday?" The words were the ones Mom had drilled into me.
With Carol, I'd become less formal, but Carol expected the invitation.

"Yes." Which didn't say she was thrilled, but was what I'd wanted.

"Should I come by your house at 7:00? And where is it?" She gave me
her address without quite answering the first question, but permission
was implied. She had two days to tell me that she wasn't allowed to
come, and she didn't take the opportunity. I expected a third degree
like Mr. Garretson had put me through -- maybe worse, although I
couldn't imagine how it could be worse. I was, after all, a junior whom
he had never met dating his freshman daughter. I showed up at her
door five minutes early. A boy about nine or ten let me in immediately.

"Are your parents here? I'm Dave Benton. I'm Zee's date to the dance."
Two other kids ran into the room. The girl was small -- five or six. She
had pigtails half-way down her back. The other boy was a year or two
older than his brother. Both boys had more hair than their little sister.
They were followed by their parents. Her mother had much more hair
than Zee did, down to below her waist. It was dark brown. The man
was the source of Zee's black hair. He also had a black beard. And
what remained of the hair was also longer than Zee's. Anyway, he was
going to grill me and lay down the law on when his daughter had to be
back. I'd been through it all. What I didn't know was his name. If I'd
ever heard Zee's last name, it had escaped me.

"Sir, I'm Dave Benton. I'm here to pick up Zee for the dance."

"Zenobia!" her mother yelled. "Get down here! You have a visitor."

"I'm Robin," the man said. "Nice to meet you, Dave."

"And I'm Marian," said the woman. "Do you want to sit down?" She
took a chair, and I did too. Zee came into the room, and I immediately
rose. She was pretty in the dress, but it wasn't quite what the other girls
would be wearing. We spent ten more minutes there talking with the
parents until I could extract us. In that time, both parents took pains to
show me that they were with it. They were decades out of it. Nothing
was said about my driving or Zee's curfew. She called her parents
'Robin' and 'Marian'; they called her 'Zenobia.' I opened the door for
Zee and closed it behind her before getting in the driver's side.

"Well," she said, "now you know."

"Everybody has parents. Nobody has parents they want. Did they tell
you when you have to be home?"

"They won't notice unless I'm not there to get Yo's breakfast. The boys
can feed themselves."

"You look pretty."

"Surprised?"

"No. Seeing you in school, I can tell you are pretty. You look prettier in
a dress." One thing that the dress made clear was that she had tits.
They were small, but they were there. She, and most of her classmates,
carried books in front of their chests. Some of them were hiding their
tits; some of them were hiding their lack.

"I don't really dance very well."

"Well, watch what others do, and you'll see it isn't hard. I'll help you."
She wasn't bad, and got better as the evening went on. She was
graceful, which helped. She was fun to watch during the fast dances. I
held her against me during both slow dances. Then you had to really
know the steps, but I moved her with much more force than Carol
would have tolerated. We looked like we were both dancing, but I was
really moving her in the steps. If that didn't give me the pleasure that
comes from dancing with a partner who knows what she is doing, it did
give me the pleasure of feeling those small tits up against my chest.
When the dance broke up, we went out to the car. I drove her most of
the way home, but stopped in the parking lot of a closed hardware
store.

"You know, it wouldn't do for you to get home too early after your
parents gave you such easy rules. They'd think you didn't appreciate
them. Worse, they might think I didn't either."

"What are we going to do?" This was horrible. Zee's parents had set no
limits, and now Zee was asking me what the rules were. I was a boy.
My entire macho identity depended on pushing against the girl's limits
and her parents' limits. Now, there weren't any. Well, Zee wasn't likely
to tell, and I was certainly not going to.

"Let's talk. First thing, and I'm an idiot for not having found out earlier.
What's your last name?"

"It's Sherwood." She told me about her brothers, Tuck, 12, and
Geraint, 9. Yolanda was 5. I didn't ask how Tuck lucked out in a family
with Zenobia, Geraint, and Yolanda. Zee was sensitive about her name.
We talked about her teachers and what I knew about them. This would
have been a hell of a lot more helpful to her in the first month. We
talked about my classes.

"And you're still friends with Tina?"

"Pretty much. Doesn't she tell you?"

"She tells me too much. I don't listen. I'll listen for your name from now
on. We've been here nearly an hour." She started to ask what that
meant, but I popped both our seat belts. I reached over to her face and
moved it into range for my kiss. The kiss was sweet. Both our mouths
were closed. I took her shoulders to move us a little closer. This time I
licked her lips until she opened them. The thrill when our tongues
touched let me know why this kind of kiss was special. I had thrust my
tongue into Carol's mouth many times, but this was the first kiss that
ever had  this effect on me.

I think Zee felt something, too. She didn't seem as surprised as I was,
though. I'd left five minutes of the hour after the end of the dance for the
kiss and to drive her the rest of the way home. When I looked at my
watch again, ten minutes had passed. I put the car in gear. I drove her
home.

"Stay there until I come around." I opened her door, walked her up on
the porch, and kissed her good night. Our mouths were closed for this
one, but I held our chests close enough together to feel her new tits
pressing against me. I held my ass back so she couldn't feel my hardon.
I waited until she'd walked in the door, then drove slowly home. I'd
have to think about Zee. I asked her as an emergency backup, but that
kiss had been more exciting than any I'd had with Carol, and I hadn't
even copped a feel.

I realized the next morning that there were two other sides to dating
Zee. Carol had been doing me favors: going with me, dancing with me,
parking with me -- all of these were things she did for me. I was doing
Zee the favor, although I didn't know whether she realized that. I'd
been her hero for a casual playground event; was I her hero now for
raising her social status? If not, it would balance out. The other issue
was what I'd done without thinking at her door. I'd told her that I'd
open the car door for her. Zee didn't know the rules. I was her
instructor. The temptation to lie was strong; how far could I get her to
go? But the pleasure of teaching her was very real. When I asked, Tina
told me that she and Zee were still friends, although she had another
best friend now -- Deb.

Monday, I stopped by Zee's locker again.

"Thanks for the date Friday. I enjoyed it."

"Thank you for asking me." We talked for a few more sentences before
we went our separate ways. At lunch, Gary pretended sympathy as a
way to put me down.

"Nasty of Carol to dump you like that. Only girl you could get on that
short notice was a freshman."

"Carol did me a favor. Zee is much prettier," [Zee was pretty enough to
make this claim believable.] "but I owed Carol. She wants to set me
free, that's fine."

"Nice face, nothing upstairs."

"Worse than that, I have to play by freshman rules. Playing with Carol's
was fun, but that's not the only reason I date."

"It's not? There's another reason?"

Now, this conversation got my side of the story out in several ways.
Carol may have dumped me, but I had already wanted to move on.
Those last dates were favors I'd done her, not favors she'd done me.
Zee was my choice, not an emergency backup. Carol had let me hold
her tits -- the girl who dumped me is a slut. Zee didn't -- the girl I'm
currently dating behaves properly.

And, having got that story out, I was almost obliged to ask Zee to the
next dance, which I did the Monday of that week. Before then, my
brain had kicked into gear: Robin -- Marian -- Sherwood. Robin Hood
and Maid Marian had led the outlaws in Sherwood forest. Could that
be a coincidence? Maybe that was what drove them to their weirdness
-- and they were weird even for parents, especially for parents. On the
other hand, hippies would do anything; even I knew enough ancient
history to know that. I couldn't ask Zee, though; she was sensitive
about her parents. Anyone could understand that.

After the next dance, I parked again. This time I planned to spend the
hour kissing. We did until I found my hand on her young tit. It felt great,
but I soon moved back.

"Look, are we playing by freshman rules or junior rules?"

"What's the difference?"

"I'm a junior. You're a freshman." Which wasn't what she'd asked. "Do
we obey, do I obey, the rules that a junior boy obeys on a date or the
rules that a boy dating a freshman girl obeys?"

"What's the difference?"

"Am I allowed to touch you there?" I pointed to her tit.

"As long as it feels good."

"Were you enjoying the kiss? Did you mind my touching you there?" I'd
never asked the first question, never dreamed of asking it. The second
one was light years worse.

"Yes. No. I was enjoying it very much. I'll tell you when I don't want
you touching me." Which was Zee in a nutshell. She could bitch about
her crazy parents all she wanted, and she certainly had reason. But
there was one adult in that car that night, and it wasn't the one with the
driver's license. That had something to do with having to be the adult in
her family.

The rest of that night, and after the next two dances, I kissed Zee and
petted her through her dress above the waist. Those were junior rules. I
was tempted to push for senior rules. That would mean her naked tits
and even going below the waist. School was drawing to a close,
though, and I enjoyed Zee's trust almost as much as I enjoyed her tits.
The last dance before the prom, I had serious issues to discuss. Zee
had worn the same dress to every dance; that wouldn't do for a prom,
had barely done for those dances. Back in teacher mode, I even cut the
kissing short.

"Look, do you think you could get your mother to buy you a prom
dress?"

"Marian? I buy my own clothes."

"Do you get enough allowance to afford a dress by the prom?"

"I don't get an allowance. I'll go into the cookie jar."

"I hope you have a friend that has gone to a prom who can help you
pick it out. Look, this means I'm going to invite you to the prom. I'll do
it in public. Don't say, 'but you've already invited me.' It's part of the
dating game." She smiled.

"And you know the rules. I'll trust you." I didn't want her to trust me. I
wanted to push her and have her resist and set the rules. That was the
way the game was played. That was the way I'd behaved with Carol,
and, if we had stuck together, I'd have gone all the way with Carol by
graduation -- on prom night our senior year, likely as not. On the other
hand, having Zee's trust was exciting. My cock was throbbing and we
weren't even holding hands.

"One more thing. I'm not supposed to know what the dress looks like
until I see you in it on prom night. On the other hand, I'm supposed to
bring you a corsage. So, I'll have to know the color."

"Okay. I trust you." And with my cock throbbing in my pants because
of this complex girl's simple trust, I went back to kissing her. Days later,
at her locker, I asked her to the prom; she accepted. In the week
before the prom, she handed me a sliver of cloth. I took it to the florist's
and got a corsage -- also a compliment from the girl at the counter.

"You don't know how many guys come in here saying 'pink' or 'green'
or 'blue.' There'll be a million dresses at the prom colored a million
shades of blue. And we're expected to guess the shade from the word."

"I'll be dancing with the smartest girl there."

"And the one with the corsage which matches best."

Zee was waiting for me when I drew up to her house. Her dress had
spaghetti straps. I thought her tits looked bigger in that dress. I pinned
on the corsage under Tuck's eyes instead of her parents'. For some
reason that made me feel more nervous. The back of my fingers
pressing into her tit made me more nervous, not in the least turned on.
We escaped, though. She had one of the more sophisticated dresses at
the prom. She matched the style of those senior girls who were
specializing in elegance and money instead of cleavage. There were
more slow dances than usual, but pressing against her tits was less
exciting than it had been. When I parked on the way to her house, the
kiss was just as exciting. When I moved my hand to her tit, though, I
didn't feel the aliveness that I was used to.

"Look," she said. "That doesn't do anything for me, and I don't see how
it could do anything for you." She turned away from me. "Undo that,
will you." I zipped her dress down. When she said nothing else, I
unsnapped her bra. Before she could turn around, I had slipped both
hands inside her dress and bra. I handled my first bare tits ever while
kissing the back of her shoulder. She leaned back towards me. The tits
felt wonderful, but the outside of my fingers felt the padding of the bra.
Well, I wasn't going to say anything.

"No," she said after a while. "I need to turn around." When I let go and
sat back in my seat, she pulled the dress straps off her left shoulder.
Then she sank back and looked at me. I kissed her while stroking her
bare tits with my left hand. With my right hand, I played with her hair.
After a while, I broke the kiss to kiss down her exposed chest to her
nipple. That kiss was all the sweeter for her holding my head against her
tit. Finally, she pushed me away.

"Look, I have to go." Yeah. I looked at my watch. We'd been there
almost two hours. She opened the door. Before I could say that I'd
drive her home, she said, "Can you get the bra?" With her help
adjusting it in front, I got the bra clasps refastened. Then the two of us
got her back in her dress and it zipped up. She swung her feet into the
car, fastened her seat belt, and closed the door. "Sorry," she said when
we were almost to her house. "I should have gone before we left the
gym."

We spoke in school a few times after that -- okay, I stopped at her
locker at the end of every day and on the mornings I got there early
enough -- but the year was drawing to a close. A week into vacation, I
was missing Zee quite badly. Tina and I were washing dishes when I
asked my best source for information on Zee.

"Your friend Zee..."

"Isn't she more your friend?"

"Does she have a bike?"

"I think so.... Yeah, rides it to school." I waited 'til late the next
morning
to call.

"May I speak to Zee?"

"Zenobia! Phone!"

"Hello."

"Zee? This is Dave. I wondered if you'd like to go bike riding with me."

"Sounds good."

"I'll come by a little after one?"

"Okay."

"See you then."

Chores done -- lest Mom get insistent at just the wrong time, lunch
eaten, I biked out to her house. She came out in tight jeans and what
looked like a man's shirt. We rode out of town to a field I knew. It was
weedy and ragged, but nobody could see us once we were over the
low hill that bordered the road. We kissed for a minute. When I started
to touch her tit, she pushed my hand away.

"Don't. I've got my period and they're tender." Now, I officially didn't
know that Tina even *had* periods. Dad had threatened me if I ever so
much as mentioned it. Here was a girl telling me that she was having a
period right then.

"Kiss or talk?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Look, if this is a sore subject, we'll talk about something else. But
Robin and Marian Sherwood? Is that a coincidence?"

"Robin and Marian don't have coincidences. They have blunders. When
Jerry Sherman married Starchild Atwood, they figured that their name
should be Sherwood. The rest followed."

"Starchild? And you thought they did you wrong."

"You know about Zenobia?"

"They call you that." I didn't mention Tina. It had been long ago, and I
wanted those two to be friends. Who knew when I might want another
piece of information? Besides, brat though Tina was, telling Mom
wasn't her fault. I'm not sure Zee would see that with her family.

"I think Starchild was her own idea. Anyway, Tuck came soon after the
wedding. I think they'd already talked about Robin and Marian." Now,
Tuck was two years younger than Zee I don't know how soon "soon
after" meant, but Zee was *telling me* that she'd been born before her
parents were married. I let that alone. The conversation trailed along.
We got to know each other. When it was time to go, we had a short
kiss and I rode behind her until we got to her house. She waved as she
turned into her driveway. She didn't want me to see any more of her
family, and I didn't blame her. I called her, though, two weeks later.

This time when we got to the field, she made no objections. The kiss
with our mouths closed was long and sweet. The kiss when our tongues
met was longer and sweeter. I was holding her tit for the last five
minutes of it. I put my hand on a button when we backed apart.

"May I?"

"Sure." When I had parted the shirt to the waist, she turned around. I
unfastened the bra. This one had shoulder straps. She took her blouse
and bra off before turning around.

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful." And she was. Soon we were both
bare above the waist. Her shirt was protecting her bare back from the
grass stems, and my tee was trying to protect her lovely hair. We
kissed with skin touching skin. Then I kissed all over both lovely tits.
'All over' wasn't a hell of a lot, yet. Still, I thought they were larger
than
they'd been on our first date. I stroked and kissed. She participated in
the kisses that were on her mouth and sometimes held my head against
her. She shoved me away when I kissed her belly button, though.

"That tickles."

"It's cute. All of you is cute." Then, though, she wanted to go back. I
helped her on with her bra. She put the shirt on herself. She unbuttoned
the waistband to push the shirt inside. I saw only a glimpse of the top of
her panties, but the glimpse and the matter-of-factness raised hopes for
later. "Look," I said as we were wheeling our bikes out to the road, "I
love these dates, but I'm going only by my schedule. What are good
times for you? Maybe, what are bad times for you?"

"I can push lunch around, but I have to be back to make dinner."

"You guys eat this early? We don't eat 'till six -- sometimes even
seven."

"We eat when Robin gets home. Usually about six thirty."

"But we have hours yet."

"Cooking the meal takes hours." Now I knew that Zee cooked dinner.
She fixed breakfast, too, at least for herself and Yo. (Never Yolanda
from me, even in my thoughts. Zee was often angry at her baby sister,
but she was protective of her, too. And the names were a sore point
with her.) If both her parents were at work, she must fix lunch, too.

"You cook except on weekends?"

"No 'except.' Robin, at least, taught me. Marian can't cook worth shit
even when she is straight."

"So, as early in the afternoon as I can make it, if I warn you. But you
have to get back?"

"Yeah, and I'm late now." So we pumped hard. Then I cruised back to
my house. I was no longer so sore about the chores I had to do.

To those chores, I added making my own lunch Monday, Wednesday,
and Friday. I'd finish eating, including rinsing off my dishes, by 12:30.
I'd ride over to Zee's house, and we'd go riding. We did damn little
riding, really. She'd be gone three hours, no more than half an hour of
which was on our bikes. I rescued an old, ragged, towel that we could
put under Zee's back -- much more comfortable than a shirt. I bought a
comb for her hair. I'd keep both in my bike pack. I loved to comb out
her hair. That not only got out the twigs and bits of grass, it allowed me
to play with all that beauty.

"I like doing this. I love your hair."

"I hate it."

"I can understand why, but it is truly lovely." Not all, or even much, of
our time was spent with my combing out her hair. Most of it was spent
petting. I didn't go into her jeans, but I stroked over them.

"These jeans are too tight," she said towards the end of summer.

"Look great in them."

"Maybe, but I can't ride a bike in them worth shit. I'm growing."

"I know." I stroked one of her tits. The faithful nipple stood up for me.
Before I could kiss it, I had a thought. "Maybe you should buy shorts
instead of jeans."

"You think they'd be cheaper?" I had no idea what women's clothes
cost. Too much, Dad was always saying. I stroked her thigh. scratching
with the back of my fingernails up from her knee to the juncture. The
last involves too many layers of cloth in jeans. She shivered -- a
frequent response to that caress.

"I'd like to do that to your skin." Then I bent to the nipple. The next
week, she came out for our ride wearing shorts. They weren't
particularly daring shorts, coming to mid thigh. They did, however, have
wide legs.

By summer's end, I was stroking her panties through the leg hole of her
shorts. When I sucked her nipple while stroking there, she lay back.
She would grab my head and pull it into her tit while bucking upward
with her hips. Then she would push my head away. I removed my own
hand. I'd watch her breathing go from gasps to evenness.

"I love you," I'd say. For the rest of the afternoon, which was often not
much, we would kiss but not pet so strongly. I took to beating off
before lunch on days I'd be with Zee. The temptation of her body was
a little less after I'd done that. We both got quite a tan that summer, and
her tan covered her tits.

She called me begging off one Friday. "I have to go shopping. How
about Saturday?" Saturday was almost as good, although there was a
tractor within hearing distance. It never came within sight, but it made
me nervous.

"I love you," I said when she had come. She looked at her watch.

"I love you, too, but I'm late. And I have to do the lunch dishes before I
set the dinner table." She dressed and got her bike.

"Well, it's my fault." She said something about not really, but I cut
through her. "I can't cook, but I'm an expert dishwasher. Let me do
yours." What I really would rather have done was to teach Tuck how,
but it wasn't my business. I was in the kitchen drying -- they didn't have
a dishwasher -- when Marian wandered in. She was visibly pregnant.
She got a cookie jar down from the top shelf.

"It's empty."

"I went grocery shopping," Zee said. "I didn't put the change back, yet,
but it isn't much."

"I'm strung out."

"I said I went shopping for *groceries*. Anyway, smoking isn't good
for the baby."

"I carried you high for nine months. Didn't seem to cause you any
problems."

"Let's take the risk 'til it does?"

"Are you the mommy here? I'm strung out."

"Robin will have some weed. He'll be here soon." Neither had taken the
slightest interest in me. When Marian went out on the porch to wait for
Robin, Zee turned to me. "Sorry. You see how it is."

"Not your fault." Indeed, Zee was the adult of that family. "Does Tuck
know how to cook? What happens in three years?" Less than three,
really, until she graduated.

"He's their son. Doesn't worry about three *days* ahead. Robin's
working overtime, at least. But payday is a week away. She'll be strung
out for six days."

"Look, the dishes are done. I shouldn't be in the middle of this. See you
Monday." Before then, I had a lot to think about. Marian was pregnant.
I didn't know any other high-school girls whose mother was pregnant. I
didn't know any families with five kids. I didn't even know another
family with four kids, although the kids I knew might well have been in
larger families than I knew about. I didn't visit more than a half dozen
homes.

I did see her Monday, though. We went through the rest of our
vacation doing everything we had been doing -- except talk about her
family.

When school started, it gave us a chance to talk every day -- two
chances to talk since I made it a point to get to school before the doors
opened. We didn't have much chance to do anything else, though. I
took to going to visit Zee both Saturday and Sunday. My family
expected me to be in church Sunday morning and at dinner afterwards,
which cut the time in two. I did homework after dark, which cut down
my TV watching, but Zee was much better than TV. When we went to
the first dance, she wore a dress with -- of course -- a skirt. I
developed a hatred of pantyhose, but -- even through the nylon -- I
stroked her to completion after every dance. Then it turned rainy and
too cold to go out to our field on weekends.

We still had every dance. We parked longer and longer after each. I
had access I hadn't dreamed of in the year before, but I felt deprived. I
took to calling her on the phone. After he learned of a call from work
that hadn't got through though his boss called several times over a
two-hour period, Dad banned me from the phone for a month. I still
think my call wasn't the whole problem; Tina was talking to someone
then, too. But the ban was final; Dad didn't ease up on that sort of
punishment. I explained some of this in a letter which I handed to Zee in
the morning. I still have her response, which she gave to me that night.

    *  Dear Dave, very dear Dave,                                          *
    *  I understand. I'd love to hear your voice, but having the letter    *
    *  is even better in some ways. I like to hear your voice in the       *
    *  calls, but I only hear it once. I can keep your letter and reread   *
    *  it. Don't, however, put anything private in a letter. Geraint is an *
    *  awful snoop.                                                        *
    *  All my love,                                                        *
    *            Your Z                                                    *

The signature letter was huge, covering half the page. From then on, I
wrote each night. Most of them were short. Those I gave her on
Monday mornings tended to be long ones written in several segments
over the weekend. She responded, or at least wrote me a note, every
night. Hers were even shorter than mine. We didn't do much business in
the letters. I asked her to dances verbally, for example. After one
dance, she pushed my hand away from her thighs.

"It's my period. Should I have said no to the dance?"

"Only if you didn't want to dance. Dancing isn't something I do for you;
it's something we do because we both enjoy it. This isn't something you
do for me, although I enjoy if very much. It's something *we* do
because we both enjoy it. Usually, that is. When you don't enjoy it, we
don't do it. Do you want to go back, talk, or kiss?"

"One kiss, at least for that." We had a nice, sweet, kiss without my
touching anything below her mouth. "You are a wonderful guy. What
do you want to talk about?" Which was nicer than saying she would
rather talk than kiss, but conveyed the same message.

"I address your letters z-e-e. Should I just use the letter?"

"No. That's how I write my name when I'm heading a homework
assignment. This is only to you. Keep up what you've been doing."

We talked for a long time. You'd think that, with brief notes and two
short conversations five days a week, we wouldn't have anything left to
say. We could have talked the rest of the night. I could have told her
that I loved her for the rest of the night, for that matter. That, though,
was only a tiny piece of our conversation.

We suffered through the winter with only the letters, the public
conversations, and the dances to sustain us. After Christmas break,
Zee's sister was born. Robin and Marian had a daughter named
Guinevere. Zee had a sister named Gwenie.

When  the weather turned warmer, but still wet, I managed to borrow
the family car most Sunday afternoons. (The secret with my old man
was to always return it with the tank full.) We could go somewhere
semi-private and pet like we did after dances. She still had to get back
to cook supper, though. My family's supper on Sunday was much less
important than mid-day dinner.

"Look," I said on a Sunday towards the end of the year, "you have to
cook supper. Do you have to eat it with them?"

"What's the sense of not doing that?"

"Hows about I invite you out for hamburgers some evening. I'd call. I'd
have to clear it with Dad first. would that suit?"

"That sounds great."

"It still depends on some things." Well, for my plans, it depended on the
weather, Mom's temper, and Dad's plans. "But don't be surprised at
the call, and I won't be hurt if you have to say no. It will be short
notice."

The weather stayed dry. Wednesday, Mom didn't cook anything
special, and Dad expressed an interest in watching TV all night. I was
able to suggest that I might have a date with Zee if I could have the car.
They were willing; she was willing; I picked her up from her driveway a
little before seven. The sky was still light.

"Look," I said. "we can go in and eat. We can get takeout at the
drive-through and find a private spot to eat by ourselves."

"And all you want to do is eat?"

"Well, something else might occur to me if you're willing. I want to be
with you. When I'm with you, I want other things, too. But I want to be
with you. If you say eat in the place, I'll enjoy the evening."

"You're sweet. Let's get takeout." So we did. I then drove to a place
not far from our old field where the car could park without drawing
attention. I got the picnic blanket from the trunk, and we had a
Big-Whopper picnic.

"Oh, Zee," I said as we kissed. The sun was already down but the light
from the sky let me see her tits as I slowly removed her shirt. "They're
so beautiful. You're so beautiful." I stroked them and kissed them. In
between, I looked at them. As it got darker, my petting got more
serious. I was sucking on one tit when I started stroking over the crotch
of her jeans.

"No," Zee said. She rolled away. Well, I'd said I wanted her company
more than the petting. If she said no, it was no. Then, I saw that she
was unzipping the jeans. She had jeans and panties down around her
knees when she rolled back.

"Oh, Zee darling!" I'd never seen her below the waist.  A lot of feeling,
sure, but no seeing. And her mound was as beautiful as her face and
her tits. In the last fading light, her tits and thighs seemed to glow with
heir own light. The triangle of hair was a dark mystery. I went back to
sucking on her tit while my hand explored between her thighs. I'd never
actually had my hand directly on her there, not without cloth in
between. I played with the hair on her mound, played with her lower
lips. When I parted these, my fingers touched her moisture directly, not
simply the moist cloth of her panties. Then I touched her clit. I found
what sort of strokes got her strongest response.

"Oh, Dave," she groaned. She had stiffened and pushed up against my
hand.

"Oh, Zee," I answered. I left my hand there and kissed her forehead
while her breathing eased. "You are a darling."

"Well, it's something you do."

"It's something you do. I just help you. It's delightful to experience."

"That's my line. But I think I should get back." And, so I drove her
back. On my way home, I got the tank filled. I was coming up on
graduation, and both of us were busy, but I got another evening with
Zee.

Right after we got the burgers, I told her to start eating in the car. Out
in
our field, sitting on the blanket, I wrapped mine again and put it aside as
soon as she finished hers. I wiped my hands on two napkins while we
had our first kiss. I didn't want to get grease on her blouse; I didn't
want anything to spoil what I had planned. Instead of taking my time
easing her into the next step, my usual pattern and something which
increased my pleasure -- let alone hers, I removed the shirt and
loosened the bra immediately. She didn't object. While I was kissing
her and holding her tit, she pulled off shirt and bra. Then she pulled my
head down as she sank back to lie on the blanket. I kissed both tits
before sitting back up to look at her.

"You are so beautiful." I stroked my fingers down from her cheek,
across her tit, and down to the belt line of her shorts. She didn't resist
when I unbuckled the belt, but she did giggle as my hand explored the
front of the waistband. I found the button and zipper on the side. I got it
loose, tugged the shorts down, tugged the panties after them. She'd
been pushing her tennies off with her feet while I'd been dealing with the
more important stuff. "You're even more beautiful like this." While the
sun was gone, the sky gave enough light to reveal her in all her glory.

Suddenly, sight wasn't enough. I crushed her to me, kissing her mouth.
While my tongue explored her mouth, my hand went all over her bare
back to her butt. I eased off the hug to get my left hand on her tit. A
minute later, I eased her down flat on her back. I sucked the nipple on
her near tit while I stroked between her thighs to find her warmth. Then
I was rubbing her moisture across her clit. She stroked my shoulders
through my shirt. I thought that I should have taken it off; I'd love to
feel
her hands against my skin. But what I was doing was more important,
and even more delightful.

"Dave ?" she said. I felt her body go stiff. "Oh!" She raised her hips,
pushing her mound into my hand. The hands at my shoulders clawed
me. Instead of stopping, I shifted my mouth to her far tit, feeling the
other sft under my chest with its nipple a point of hardness. I sucked
again and stroked some more. "Oooh!" She bucked upwards even
farther than last time. I shifted tits again, licking this time. "Dave!" she
said. Her hips rose, Before they fell, she was pushing me off -- first my
head, then my hand. I rolled to a sitting position and stripped off my
shirt and tee-shirt. She looked even lovelier like that, with legs spread
and belly pumping air in and out.

I straddled her and lowered my chest over hers. Then I was lying on
her with her tits pressed against my bare chest and her lips and tongue
meeting mine. I felt her bare skin against mine, and my erection pressed
my jeans against her mound.

"You are beautiful," I said when I finally rolled off. "And you feel as
good as you look."

"Should we be going back?" She found my half-eaten and rewrapped
hamburger in the dim light. "Oh. Do you mind?" She started to eat it.

"Go ahead."  When she finished it, she began putting her clothes back
on. By this time, it was almost too dark to see. I got my tee shirt and
shirt back on, myself. After she had got her shoes back on -- which
involved untying them first -- she stood up. I folded up the blanket and
we headed back to the car. I drove her home, filled the tank, and
bought another hamburger.

I'd beaten off before starting on the date, but I was so excited by that
experience that I had to do it again before going to sleep. I couldn't
remember many details of my dreams when I woke up, but they
seemed to involve a naked Zee.

I was going to State the next year, and Dad suggested that a college
man shouldn't be getting an allowance. He talked a tougher game than
he played, however. The job I had lined up for the summer was mostly
of his arranging. The way I figured it, that wouldn't be any great
problem. Zee and I would have summer evenings, and evenings had
become our times. After my job interview in the city, I stopped in a
drug store where nobody had ever seen me. I bought a box of
condoms. Zee and I had done everything else, maybe we would go all
the way that summer.

Zee had a short haircut for the prom. She wasn't the only sophomore
girl there  Even Tina had a date with a junior. But she was one of the
few sophomores with a senior date. She had a new dress; the old one
no longer fit on top. I drove Dad's car, not the rented limousine a few
shelled out for. I didn't even suggest a hotel room, which was part of
the prom experience for some seniors. When we parked afterwards,
though, Zee pulled her pantyhose down far enough that I could reach
her bare pussy to bring her off.

"I love you," I said. "I know why you did your hair, but I loved it long."
But she had other things to discuss besides her hair.

"Oh, Dave, I love you. And you're going away."

"Not 'til September. We have the summer, and I'll be back." I didn't
speak about working that summer, and neither did she. We certainly
didn't compare work schedules. (She probably didn't even know what
hers would be at that time.)  She got a job as a waitress; what other
jobs were open at her age and training? My job was nine to five -- plus
commuting. Her's was mostly evenings., but Saturday and Sunday
lunch.

We got clear about this during a long phone conversation after I called
her for a date on a weeknight. She hadn't been home, but got the
message -- which was a wonder in that house. She called me back
after she got back from work. Monday was her only free night. I invited
her out to the movies. We no longer had dances, and I thought she
deserved dates besides petting sessions. The Monday after that, we got
burgers again. I headed out to our place.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's my period again."

"Don't be sorry. Want to see another movie?"

"Could we?"

"Sure. Mind if I hold you."

"On the shoulders?" That was how we sat in the movies, with my arm
along the back of her seat.

"Yes."

"I like that."

"Look, maybe, when I call and ask you out to eat, if you don't want to
pet, you could say something like, 'Thanks, Dave, I'd be glad to go to
the movies with you.'" I didn't want her discussing her period with me
over the phone when her brothers might be listening. I hadn't even said
the word to her, although she'd said it to me.

She said that once that summer, and for several weeks it rained every
Monday night. I ended up spending more Monday nights seeing movies
than I spent seeing Zee's delightful body. I practiced putting on one
condom, and took another in my wallet on every petting date -- I put it
back between dates. Other than that, the box remained unused. Still,
even movie nights ended with a long and sweet kiss. And the other
dates let me see, and touch, and arouse the loveliest body in the state.
Monday nights were the center of my life before I went away.

But I did go away. I wrote Zee several times without a response. I
wasn't writing any other letters, something Mom tried to fix by sending
me some stamps in a letter from home. I wrote back; I also enclosed
some stamps in my next letter to Zee. This time I got a response.

    * Dear Dave,                                                *
    * Thanks for the stamps. Somehow, the cookie jar is         *
    * always empty these days. They're complaining that I'm     *
    * not putting anything in since I went back to school.      *
    * Luckily, I bought cans and cans of formula for Gwenie     *
    * when I could. Anyway, I did like your letters. I've been  *
    * reading all of the old ones over since you're so busy at  *
    * school.  Dances aren't so much fun, any more with you     *
    * gone. I've decided to only go with juniors. Seniors want  *
    * so much more.                                             *
    *         Your Z                                            *

I wrote back that juniors wanted as much, they just weren't as insistent.
She had to know when to say no. "When you get a boy you love as
much as you love me, do the things we did. Until then, set limits. A guy
who takes you out on a date has earned a good-night kiss at your door.
Anything more is only if you feel good doing it and feel good
remembering it." All this was what her mother should have told her, and
Marian never would. It felt a little hypocritical. I could remember
teaching her "junior rules." I used to push for what I could get, and now
I was pushing her to give other boys less. On the other hand, I hadn't
pushed that hard. I'd wanted to have Marian on the other side so we
could strike a balance. The condom box was still hidden in my dresser
drawer at home, unused except for one practice try.

Zee wrote back that she'd never love another boy like she loved me.
She was going on dates, though, and she reported them without
apology. I took that as permission to participate in the social life of
college. Mixers were fun. I soon had a girl friend. Dot, however, was a
girl friend; Zee was the love of my life. I went back for Thanksgiving
and Christmas. My parents expected to have some of my time; old
friends expected to have some of my time. I got together with Zee as
much as we could. I took her to actual restaurants, now, not just burger
joints. Unfortunately, although we parked after dates, the weather didn't
cooperate. I no longer had the sight of all her beauty, although her
breasts were as smooth and soft as ever and her pussy and nipples as
responsive.

Dot had a new boyfriend after Christmas. Soon Teri and I were a
couple. We parked after dances. Having left the box at home. I bought
another box of condoms for school. I didn't need them as soon as I'd
hoped, but that box was lighter than the one at home by the time I went
back for Spring break.

It wasn't all that warm then, but Zee and I managed to have a lovely
afternoon wrapped in the blanket rather than lying on it. She came and
came, and I kissed places that I'd never kissed before. Then she came
and came again. Zee saw me off at the station along with my family
when I went back. We shared a kiss that was the hottest we'd ever had
in public.

Then I was back with Teri. We had sex, but it wasn't one tenth as
erotic as the session I'd had with Zee while my pants were on. When I
hadn't got any letters from Zee for a while, I sent more stamps in mine.
That got the letters flowing again, but I felt that they were more
constrained. She wrote that her second prom dress still fit and that she
would wear it to this prom. Then came a letter out of the blue.

    * Dear Dave,                           *
    * I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry!   *
    * Never ask me why.                    *
    * Your Z                               *

I couldn't figure out an answer to that one. There was only one possible
response to the first line, and the second forbade me from making it.
The second one came days later, the first time I could remember that
Zee had written me two letters without my having written at least one in
between. I'd thought the previous letter was as bad as it could get, but
this one was worse.

    * Dear Dave,                                               *
    * I'm going to be working at the same place this summer.   *
    * Things are tight here, On top of that Gwenie is having   *
    * trouble sleeping and Yo is terribly jealous of her. We   *
    * have to talk when you come home.                         *
    *     Z                                                    *


I wasn't particularly happy about "we have to talk." It's one thing to
talk, I loved to talk with Zee. It's quite another to be told that you had
to talk. But the signature was what sent shivers up my spine. She was
no longer *my* Zee. I wrote back my schedule, and she wrote me
hers, She suggested that we meet Wednesday morning. The letter was
perfectly friendly, but it was still signed simply "Z."

Hoping against hope, I came home, greeted my family, and pretended
to celebrate. I would do everything on the Wednesday morning that I
had done for a date. I slipped the condom into my wallet and the
blanket into the car trunk. After I picked up Zee, we stopped for the
ritual hamburgers before driving to the ritual field. We spread the
blanket and ate the hamburgers in silence. That wasn't part of the
pattern, but I could think of only one subject of conversation, and I
didn't want to hear that. Probably she felt the same way. Finally, every
crumb was eaten.

"Zee, you wanted to talk."

"Dave..." She fished a finger into the waistband of her shorts. She
handed me a wrapped condom.

"What?"

"Put it on." She started to strip off her clothes. I removed my shirts,
shoes and socks. I wanted to have sex with Zee, but I didn't want it to
be like this.

"Slow down.  We have plenty of time. Let me kiss you. You don't want
to hurry this. A woman's first time can hurt."

"That's only the first time." If she'd kicked me it wouldn't have hurt so
much. Still...

"Do it my way, anyway. Let me kiss you." So we kissed, Her kiss was
desperate. Can a kiss be desperate? But we kissed open-mouthed and
I stroked her. She lay down, as beautiful as ever, and I sucked her
nipple and stoked her clit until she was writhing.

"Dave! Now!" I got out of my pants and shorts and into the condom. I
moved between her knees, but stopped to kiss her breasts once more.

"Whatever, I love you," I said. I pressed into the warmth and moisture
that only my fingers had touched before. As I stroked within her, I
watched her lovely face. She looked desperate, then -- for a moment
-- loving, then concerned. She looked like she was in agony for one
second, but I kept up my pace.

"Dave, Dave, Dave," she said as her pussy clutched around me. She
pressed her groin against me so hard that she almost lifted my weight.
Then, my own orgasm struck. Teri, let alone my own hand, had never
been like this. I erupted into her, then I poured into her, then I dribbled
one last time into her. I fell forward onto her sweet body. Maybe I slept
for a moment. When I recovered a little strength, I lifted my upper body
enough to look at her face.

"I love you. Whatever happened, I love you. I always will"

"Am I your Zee again?"

"You've always been my Zee." She raised her head to kiss me, and I
lowered mine to kiss her. I came out and moved to lie side by side with
her. We kissed and stroked, She was petting me as much as I was
petting her. I kissed all the way down her body to her thighs. When I
came up to kiss her breast, she kissed my shoulder.  My stroking
concentrated back on her pussy and then her clit while I sucked her
nipple. She stiffened again.

"Oh!" she said. She pushed her groin into my hand.  I pressed along her
side and kissed her shoulder while still holding her mound. Her breath
got more even. Her hand clasped my cock where it was pressed into
her knee. She giggled. "I should have brought a second one,"she said.

"I brought one. Do you want to?" I'll admit that my fingers started
playing with her pussy again.

"You did?" You knew we were going to?"

"I've carried it on dates for a long time. I knew we would sometime. I
wanted you to be safe. I also wanted you to be willing."

"You didn't ask." A long pause while my petting got more specific. "Get
it now." I rolled away towards my trousers. I got it out and open.

"Want to put it on?"

"Yeah." I knelt between her legs as she sat up to apply the condom.
She fumbled a bit, but that only added to my excitement. I stroked her
clit again, then slid into her. She was warm around me and soft under
me. We kissed; our tongues met. Then I raised my upper body to see
her face while I stroked within her. "Love" she mouthed to me.

"Love," I said back. Again, she looked worried and distracted. When
the look turned to agony, I was pleased because I knew what was
coming next. I felt her pussy grasp my cock and relax. I kept stroking
through that rhythmic grasp.

"Oh," she said. "Oh," again. "Oooh!" She clutched around me and
thrust herself against me. I had thought I could go on forever, but I
thrust forward so hard she slipped on the blanket. Then I was pulsing
within her pulses. I dropped to my elbows to protect her from my
weight. Slowly, I felt the inside of her legs slide down the outside of
mine. (I hadn't felt them rise to grasp my hips at all.) She was grinning
like a maniac, and I must have been, too. "Your Zee," she said finally.

"You're my Zee. I'm your Dave." I agreed.


The end
Your Zee
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2010/09/22


Thanks to Denny for editing this.


For another story of another teen couple journeying to
the ultimate expression of love:
/~Uther_Pendragon/Gjt/sch_01f.htm
"Honey Bee."

This story is indexed in the file:
/~Uther_Pendragon/yl.htm
"Young Love."

The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm
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