Message-ID: <7079eli$9801072259@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7079.txt> From: "Rebecca A." <cyan@anon.nymserver.com> Subject: New TG: Marcia and Me 1/? Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <199801070711.AAA18397@shaman.lycaeum.org> Hi This is only the second story I've ever written. It's still incomplete, but since I'm stuck around part 14 and have been for a while now I thought I'd send it off and see whether people like it enough for me to continue. Hope you like it Becky *** Marcia and Me Chapter 1. Saturday. "You have great skin", Marcia said to me when the song ended. I looked over at her quizzically. We'd been lying on her living room floor listening to a CD, both a little exhausted from her attempts to teach me to dance earlier in the afternoon, and although I'd been staring at the ceiling while the song was playing she'd obviously been looking me over. I blushed. "You're so lucky", she continued. I spend all my time cleaning mine and I still can't get it to look like that. And you're a boy." It wasn't like Marcia Wilson was the ugliest girl in the neighbourhood. She'd had about three pimples the whole time I'd known her. That was about three years, since Marcia had moved in next door. I was twelve then, she was fourteen, and at first it seemed like we had nothing in common. I was a kid compared to her worldly adolescence. Her brother Rob was a year older than me, but he was a jock and he regarded me with some disdain. He and I definitely had less in common. I thought Marcia was smart and beautiful - more so as she got older. Her mother and my mother became friends, and so from time to time one or the other of us would go next door to find our moms and pass on phone messages or tell them we were going out or something while our mothers yakked half the day. That was when Marcia and I discovered we had similar tastes in music, and started swapping CDs and tapes and spending time together sharing whatever either of us had bought recently. Not that I bought anything; it was all Marcia's contribution. Mom and I weren't doing too well since Dad had left, and even though he still sent some money I got the impression from Mom that it was irregular and really only barely covered the mortgage, and when she got retrenched from her job her savings were pretty much all we had to go on. Marcia's parents were rich, or so it seemed to me. Their house was easily the biggest in the neighborhood. It seemed Mrs Wilson was always off shopping, sometimes taking Marcia with her and returning with more new clothes than I'd ever seen. Marcia's clothes wouldn't fit into the closet in her room. She had so many they also filled the huge closet in the spare bedroom they had. Even her brother Rob had more clothes than I'd ever seen, which was pretty funny for a guy his age. From what I could tell Mrs Wilson was worse, Marcia told me the walk-in closet in her parents' room had barely any room for her father's things at all. "Well", I said, "I'm younger than you, I guess my skin will get worse in a year or so". I decided to change the subject and got up to put on the new Bjork CD, one of Marcia's favourites. I was a bit sensitive about the fact that I hadn't really reached puberty yet. Fine hair had only just begun to show on my legs and around my genitals, but that was about all that had happened. Mom bought me a razor for my fifteenth birthday but I think that was more a symbolic thing or something, I hadn't needed to use it yet. My skin was, as Marcia had said a few moments ago, smooth as a five year old's. Strangely enough I wasn't really in a hurry to go through all the changes that were in store for me. I had noticed in the locker rooms at school the things that had happened to the other guys in my year, and some of them seemed pretty scary, or at least uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine myself ever looking like that, though I knew I eventually would. I guessed that when it happened the guys would start being a little kinder to me and not tease me about my size and stuff so much. I didn't really get on too well with many of them, or really any of them - in fact Marcia was easily my best friend even if she did come up with some harebrained schemes that sometimes got us both into trouble. Mom had commented a couple of times over the last year or so that I didn't seem terribly happy. She was pretty perceptive. I hadn't really been able to figure it out myself, but every now and again I wondered why it was that life just didn't feel right. It wasn't just school, it was... well, a lot of stuff. Lack of confidence or something I guessed. I didn't say anything to Mom about these feelings though, and I never told her how much I hated school. I never liked to tell her stuff that would worry her. *** Continued in Chapter Two. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>