She!

Chapter 8

We went to the biggest of the bookstores in the mall and spent the next two hours happily looking. Able to afford only one book, I looked very carefully before spending the last of my money. The book I really wanted was an encyclopedic zoology. Unfortunately, this massive book cost $80.

I settled for a comparatively lightweight fantasy novel that sounded like my own situation. When I rejoined Will, I noticed that, along with three or four other books, he had also picked out the novel.

"Maybe we ought to team up," he said. "Find something else and I'll loan you this book."

I noticed that he also had a book on human sexuality, a pop psychology book, and another fantasy novel. I took the book back and chose, instead, the other book that I had been forced to choose between. I paid for my purchase and joined Will in the center walk of the mall for the walk back down to where I'd left Minni.

Will gave me the book in return for my address so he could get it back later. We agreed we would see each other again.

During the next few days, I spent my time sitting in the sun to continue improving my tan and reading the book. I couldn't help wonder if I was the only being in the world like myself, the story was so close to my own experiences.

In the story, the only difference was that the lead character was almost always a man – rather than an animal – and expended his energy in the pursuit of "right."

The main plot concerned the main character saving the world during World War II by arranging the execution of Field Marshall Rommel for treason so he couldn't lend his amazing talents to Hitler's cause. It sounded more than plausible to me though I had been a whale and deep in the oceans during World War II. As a male whale, I had helped on two occasions to prevent bloodshed by sinking Japanese submarines. No place on earth had been exempted from World War II's exhibition of evil and its countering good.

As in all good novels, the plot involved much more than the main theme. There was also a rousing romance, graphically culminated, and several smaller subplots that fleshed it out and made it seem more real.

It was late afternoon on one of those early summer days that I found myself watching Phil mowing the lawn. As he finished, sitting down sweaty in cutoffs and old sneakers, I noticed no one else was around.

"Where is everyone?" I said.

"All over," he answered, rubbing the sweat off his chest with his tee-shirt. "The boys are on the camping trip with the scouts, as you know. Minni and Molly went to one of Minni's cousins' wedding shower. I'm sorry they didn't ask but they didn't think you'd want to go."

"They were right," I said wrinkling my nose at the thought.

"Well, excuse me," he said and got up from the chair to go into the house. "I need a shower."

"Yeah, me too," I said. The sun was nearing the horizon now and it was getting a little chilly.

"We could save water and shower together," he said kidding.

"Yeah, we could," I said. I was kidding but his face changed. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me.

"Could we really?" he asked. I sort of shrugged. I'd thought about him several times in the month I'd been here. But I knew that we shouldn't.

"I guess I should take mine in here and you in there," I said. He nodded and ducked into his bedroom. I did the same thing, pushing the door closed behind me. I didn't notice that it didn't latch and, when I turned my back to it to take off my bikini, it edged back open. I also didn't see him watching from his room as I did it.

I walked into the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature before getting into the tub and pulling the shower curtain across. As the warm water started to cascade over my body, I heard his voice from just on the other side of the curtain.

"Sue, I changed my mind. I think we should save water," he said. I pushed the curtain back a little and looked out. He had his sneakers off but his cutoffs still on. As I watched, he unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed them off. The cutoffs released his cock that, only partially hard, hung down his leg, long and thick. "Tell me to go away, Sue, and I will," he said.

"No," I said. "Wash my back." He smiled though he seemed a little ashamed of himself. He stepped into the tub.

I handed him the washcloth and he found the soap. Soaping the cloth vigorously, he put his covered hand on my back and rubbed it roughly. He continued down my sides and then across my buttocks and down each leg as I stood there enjoying it.

Then his arms came around me from behind, the washcloth rubbing my chest before moving to my breasts. He moved the cloth down onto my stomach but his other hand stayed on my breasts, rubbing the soapy slipperiness across them. Still rubbing my breasts, the cloth covered fingers moved between my legs, making me spread them, and began rubbing up and down.

I could only stand a few minutes of that before I came for him. I could feel his hardness pressing up on the bottom of my buttocks.

I took the cloth and soap away from him and soaped his hairy chest and shoulders as he rested his hand on my hip, looking down at me as the soap washed off my breasts.

"Phil, why did you want to know if I was a virgin?" I asked. He grunted as my cloth covered hand went between his legs.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't bring a lot of bad things, ideas and learned habits, with you," he said.

"But you wouldn't mind taking my virginity, would you?" I asked. He grunted and his cock hardened unbelievably in my hand.

"Would you want that?" he asked.

"Yes. I don't know anyone else I'd want to give it to." He grunted as I moved my hand on him.

"Here?" he whispered.

"No. Come here," I said putting the washcloth and soap down and rinsing both of us off in the water stream. I stepped out of the tub and reached back for his hand. Then I walked into Minni's room and pulled a pillow out from under the bedspread and put it in the middle of the bed. I turned to him and stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him. I felt him hard against my stomach as he held my arms.

"Take me, Phil. Make me a woman," I sighed before he enfolded me in his arms and kissed me hard.

Strong, he lifted me as he had Marshall that night and laid me down on the bed, my bottom on the pillow. He looked down at me, a hitch in his breath, and climbed onto the bed. He was very long and big around.

"Don't do anything but put it inside me, Phil. I want it and I'm ready for you," I said, knowing it was the truth. I was drooling lubrication just in anticipation. I was afraid if he slowed to kiss my nipples or anything else, I would come again and soak the pillowcase. I lowered my near leg to the bed and raised the other, bending it at the knee, beckoning him.

He almost fell onto me, his desire was so high. He held himself up on one arm and carefully aimed between my legs. As he found the spot, I lifted both feet to his hips. He pressed forward very slowly then moved a little back. I could feel my juices wetting him. He pressed forward and opened me. When he moved back again, it was a loss I hated.

He pressed forward again and I felt myself open to him again, my mouth opening with the thought of a scream but it was just on the edge of pain, not there yet. He pressed forward further and I felt myself engulfing him. He sighed heavily as if his cock were pressing his air out of him instead of me.

Each inch he pressed into me, my back arched another inch until I was bowed onto my shoulders and he was pressed against my maidenhead. He explored it with gentle probes.

"Are you sure, Sue?" he said. In answer, I wrapped my legs around his butt and pulled them tight. There was nearly nothing he could do to resist me. With a sharp pain that elicited my little scream, he broke through. He gurgled deep in his throat with the hot feeling of it and fell further into me.

I thought he would never stop moving into me, my mouth opening wider with each inch of him until he hit my cervix and I felt another small pain. He began moving back then but I pulled him forward until he again hit bottom. Back and again. Further into me each time. Stretching my capacity for him.

Then his pelvic bone pressed into my clitoris, his body relaxing against me, fully inside my sheath. I was suddenly afraid he was going to stop this way. That he wouldn't finish. My legs went wild in a kind of panic.

"Oh, fuck me, Phil. Please! Please, fuck me," I moaned loudly. He backed out of me until I panicked again that I might lose him. He came all the way back into me until his front crushed my clit again and I let out a little scream I just couldn't hold in. "Fuck me. Yes. Fuck me," I hissed with only enough breath to allow me to barely survive.

I'm sure my body was going crazy under him, wildly undulating. The feelings of it were beyond my understanding. Nothing in my long experience could compare to these feelings that washed through me.

He moved back and then quickly thrust back in again. I knew I was making too much noise. I could hear him laughing. Laughing at me? I didn't care. He rode me as I tried to get all of him inside of me, push him away completely, keep him from moving so, get him to move faster. I didn't know what I needed worst.

Then I knew. Yes! "Fuck me. Fuck me fast. Hard. Harder. Yessss!" I screamed. "I'm coming!"

And I did. Completely. Magnificently. Unreservedly. And I felt him gushing, pumping, into me, his body losing all control. My legs were stretched almost painfully toward the ceiling. Then they were both bending and kicking out over and over.

The closest I've ever come to that liberating, complete feeling and the total disorientation was when I'd been killed and flashed back through several recent lives, one after another. That was similar but without any of the pleasant parts of this experience. This was much much better.

"Oh God, Sue! God! I've never…" My body suddenly felt like all the bones had melted away.

When I could feel something again, I said, "Can you do that again?" He moaned.

I knew the test for high school placement was going to be hard but I really didn't realize some of the complications. I started with the assumption that I wanted to be a sophomore, in keeping with my age. Second, I didn't want to give away my rather special abilities and knowledge -make myself a freak. Finally, I didn't want to seem stupid. This presented real problems in taking the test.

First, I had to answer a representative number of questions that would express the right level of knowledge. Second, I had to hit near the top of the age group so I could be thought of as intelligent and get into the accelerated courses with the more intelligent kids. Third, I had to psych out the test so I wouldn't answer some questions beyond what my knowledge level should be. And finally, I had to take up the majority of the time allowed. All of this, I had to do in the same small office with the school district counselor who could, at any time, glance over and see not only what I was doing but how I was doing it.

Experience, they say, is the best teacher and I had more experience than anyone on earth. I'd seen major disasters. I'd lived all of recorded history and much more. I'd had personal acquaintanceship with science, both personally and as a casual interest. I had to study governments, current affairs, and the happenings of the few years before my current incarnation just to survive and, often, for my own reasons. I knew and fluently spoke most of the languages of the world because I'd used many of them on a daily basis at one time.

The easy way to do the test would have been to purposely miss what I'd think would be a reasonable number of questions, then go through it again and answer the others correctly. But what were the correct answers? For instance, I knew the Normans hadn't conquered England in 1066 because I was there with them two years before. And it hadn't been anywhere near that date anyway because the Gregorian calendar hadn't been invented at the time.

So I had to know the answers the test writer wanted, not necessarily the correct answers to the questions.

Of course, zoology was quicksand for me. Half of the things spouted as gospel I knew from personal experience were just plain wrong. Much of the rest was just oversimplification. For instance, often leadership of a wolf pack was fought for by the adolescent males in competition with the grayed male. But, as often, the gray gave it away to the most competent for simple lack of interest in always being the disciplinarian or because he just wasn't terribly good at it.

Therefore, I not only had to know the answers to questions, I had to know the current answers and whether the test I was taking had caught up with current knowledge.

I could have taken the test in half an hour. I had to spend two boring hours. Instead of immediately marking the answers incorrectly that I knew I shouldn't know and then returning to the ones I should know, I had to go through it from the beginning to the end, keeping a mental count in each subject area so I wouldn't seem brilliant in one area and an idiot in another.

It was, I'll say, good mental exercise.

Miss Taylor made it a little easier. When I wanted to waste a little time, looking at her made it easy.

She was camouflaged but poorly camouflaged. She wore a rather severe blue pin- striped suit. But it was a little too well tailored to her diminutive waist and full bustline and she wore no blouse under the jacket. The skirt was hemmed too short so her gorgeous legs sprang to full view. Her stockings were too sheer and too expensive. Her high heels were just a little too high.

She wore her hair in a tight bun but played with a loose lock that fell in front of her ear. She wore glasses but they provided little correction and served primarily to slightly magnify large, gorgeous green eyes. She wore little makeup but her pouting lips needed very little and her long eyelashes none at all. She worked on a serious cast to her mouth and eyes but her natural happiness brimmed through any serious look.

And she smiled too easily and laughed sweetly for almost no reason. The small lines in her face were all laugh lines.

Her long fingers were artistically feminine and sprouted from soft hands.

When she sat behind the small desk, I could see her tightly crossed knees but also the way she wrapped the foot of the lower leg around the chair leg and pointed the toes of the free foot.

I finished the test and rechecked my answers before giving it to her. With quick flicks of her wrist, she marked the wrong answers and then put a mask over the answer sheet that let her count the subject answers and code them onto a graph. In a few efficient moments, she looked at me through those glasses.

Okay, she said, turning the graph for me to follow, pointing out the items as she came to them.

"You're at 11.5 in science," she said. Too high. Ouch. I quickly scanned across the rest of the graph points and saw that only the math score was in the 10 range. Damn. Too high. "A little weak in math skills but that can be brought up with a little work. English is 12.0, languages 12.4, history 12.9, and social studies 11.8." She looked at her sheets again and rapidly totaled the areas.

"That would indicate the lower range of twelfth grade. You and your parents can make a decision. You can either work very hard as a senior this year or, if you've got a lot of extra- curricular activities planned, take it a little easy academically and go into the junior year."

"Oh, no," I said without thinking. She looked at me, waiting for what I was going to say, as I tried to make my complaint seem reasonable to her. "I'm 15, ma'am. I was hoping…" How to say this. My mind was racing. She looked startled.

"Oh! You, ah, look much older." I saw her look at the front of my tanktop. "When's your birthday?"

Sidetracked and not thinking very well I blurted out the day I'd incarnated. "May second, ma'am."

"Miss," she said in passing in response to the ma'am. "That's different. You should be a freshman this year for your age group. Well," she smiled. "You're a very intelligent young lady. I'm impressed.

"Oh, but now there's another problem, isn't there?" I hoped she'd come up with a reasonable sounding reason for me. "You'd be leaving all your middle school friends behind, wouldn't you?"

"Ah, yeah," I stumbled. That really wasn't an issue since I hadn't been in school here before and she would soon see it. She was even quicker than I thought she might be.

"No, that's not a problem since you weren't here last year." She smiled again. "Since you'll be making new friends in any case, the question returns to what you want to do." I started to say something but she held up her hand.

"At your last school, how well did you do studying? Did you have a hard time getting the work done on time?" I shook my head. That wasn't the problem.

She looked more closely at me then, her face as close to serious at it seemed capable of.

"You've still got a problem. What is it, sweetheart?" She was very perceptive. I decided she must be very good at her job. She stood then and rounded the little desk to squat beside my chair. The action made it impossible for me to ignore her. The way she poised, I could see down into her jacket to her breasts, laid open on the silk lining to the nipples. And at the same time, her knee tipped up toward me so I could see down the length of her thigh to the narrow white stripe of her panties between her legs. She looked up into my eyes.

"I guess I don't want to be a freak. The class brain or something," I said, trying to put it in a patois that would make it believable.

"Oh, I don't think that would be a problem. I mean, you wouldn't even have to mention your age if you didn't want. And, I said, you look older." Again her eyes went to my breasts through the tanktop. Her hand was on my bare knee below the hem of my skirt.

"Of course, you may have some gaps that would be filled in if you were to endure the freshman and sophomore years. But you're just too intelligent to be subjected to that for two years. You really have to make a decision between 11th and 12th grade. It would be terrible for you to be wasted for two years."

I thought about it. There really didn't seem to be any reason why I needed to stay with Minni's school class just because of my age. I certainly could better use the knowledge I might gain from the upper class. I decided then.

"Senior," I mumbled.

"What? Senior? Okay. But you know that you're going to have to work very hard to keep up with your class." I nodded. She smoothly stood back up and leaned more comfortably against the desk. I was sure she didn't notice that the button on her jacket had come undone. The tailoring pulled it open so I found myself looking from the high waist of her skirt, just below her bellybutton, to her neck in an only slightly occluded way. The jacket poised at her nipples, almost half her areola showing. I gulped.

"Do you think you can compete with the other students on that level?" she asked as she put her hands on the edge of the desk and opened the jacket the rest of the way.

"I think so," I said, looking at her face but seeing only her naked breasts in my peripheral vision.

"Socially, perhaps," she began. "You, ah, may have a few problems. The, ah, boys…" It was obvious she found this topic a little out of her depth. "… they might, ah…"

I stood up then and moved toward her, purposely putting one hand on either side of her, inside her jacket and resting my hands on her naked back. She immediately tried to stand more solidly and her hands came to my sides. I was almost as tall as she was and only turned my head slightly and brought my lips to hers. They were already puckered in a surprised gasp.

I let my tongue taste her lipstick and then the tip of her tongue at her white teeth. I don't know how I expected her to react, but it wasn't the way she did. She pulled her head back and pulled her glasses off before bringing her lips back to mine and her arms around my back.

The moan, deep in her throat, seemed to say more about her feelings than even her body against mine. As she continued the kiss, her hands moved my tanktop up until the material was atop my breasts, our nipples pressing into each others'.

My hands went down her sides to her skirt and pulled the sides of the material upward until she pushed herself upright and let it rise above the desktop. Her hands had been busy at the same time, pulling my skirt up until, as I felt hers above her conjunction, mine could press into her newly bared wetness.

Sitting on the edge of the desk as she was, her pubis was prominent and pressed into me. She was making almost uncontrolled mewling sounds as her body pumped into my wet channel. She was saying, "Oh, oh, oh," over and over again as our mouths fought for eminence.

She came against me in just that way, not needing the stimulus of fingers or lips beyond our kisses and our wandering hands on each others' backs and sides.

After long climaxes, we moved apart, cupping each others' breasts in both hands and smiling at each other.

"I think," she said as she panted under my fingers, "that you'll have very few social problems in the senior class."

I moved away a step and felt my skirt settled back around my thighs though I didn't pull down my tanktop. She still leaned there with her skirt pulled up around her hips and her jacket opened wide across her large breasts and still swollen nipples.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said with a big grin. "I have an appointment with the superintendent of schools in five minutes." She smiled even more broadly and leaned close in a conspiratorial vein. "He's thirty-three, unmarried, and hung like a horse," she said and laughed. "He likes professional women."

She led me to the door, pulling my tanktop down for me and carefully buttoning her jacket. We walked together to the main office of the administration building and she waved her fingers at me.

"I think that during the school year, you are going to need a great deal more counseling, Sue. College. Careers. I don't know what all." I waved back with a bashful bend of my shoulders.

"See you then." She turned into the office.