Jan & family

This story is fictional. The only similarity with my life is that when I was 13 I lost my cherry to a woman of 23.

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What am I doing here? Why has everything gone wrong? Remember these words.

It all started when Jan, short for Janice, started at our school. She was allocated the desk next to mine in Mrs Briggs’ sixth grade class. I was rapt. My first impression was of a vision, a mass of long blond curls, an angelic face and long legs: I was smitten. I had just turned eleven, discovered girls and was hoping that soon the girls would discover me. What? Girls notice me? Time for a reality check. I was small for my age and looked more like an eight year old than eleven. I never knew my Dad; he was killed in the war in 1944. I had only seen photos of him. One picture showed him standing next to Mum. He looked to be about two inches taller than her five feet one inch. Obviously, I was never going to be a giant. You can’t beat your genes. At least I had inherited both of their looks. They were both blond, blue eyed and slim.

At the end of school that day Jan and I followed the stampede out the school gate. Jan walked over to a man who was waiting for her. He said a few words to her and they both looked in my direction. I made my way onto the school bus and headed for home.

The next day in the schoolyard before class Jan came up to me and started talking to me. She had just moved from another town about two hours drive away. It was the third time she had moved in the last five years. She asked if I wanted to go her house the next day, Saturday, just to hang out and have me tell her all about our neighbourhood.

Around nine the next morning I knocked on her door, which was opened by the man I had seen with Jan at school.
“Hi, I’m Jon, Jan’s Dad. You, must be Mark. She’s in her room, go on up,” he said.

As I climbed the stairs I could hear music playing and followed the sound to Jan’s room.
“Come in and close the door,” she called over her shoulder from desk.
“Great room,” I exclaimed as I took in the feminine décor. The room was all pinks and whites, frilly curtains and matching bed linen. I closed the door as instructed. The room was quite bright with the morning sun streaming in the windows.
Jan got up from her desk and sat on the side of the bed. “Come, sit beside me so we can talk,” she instructed. I did as she asked but I was feeling a little apprehensive about being there. In the dark ages of the fifties kids of the opposite sex weren’t supposed to be in closed rooms together – decorum and all that stuff. We were sat side by side on her bed when she took both of my hands in hers and held them in her lap. “Gee, thanks for coming today and for being such a help to me at school,” she said, “some of the other kids have been a bit standoffish and haven’t made me feel welcome.”
“The girls are put out because you’re so pretty,” I said.
That seemed to cheer her up and she gave my hands a squeeze then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re so sweet, do you really think so?” She whispered in my ear.

There must be some kind of nerve connection between my ear and my dick; the feel of her soft breath on my ear gave me that familiar warm feeling in my crotch and my dick started to swell a little. I didn’t know what to feel, this was outside my experience. I knew very little of sexual matters; Mum hadn’t had “that talk” with me yet. All I had to guide me was some schoolyard here-say. My ears felt hot, I knew I was blushing and could only manage a stammered, “yes.”

“You haven’t done anything with a girl before, have you,” Jan asked.
One good thing about being small like me is nobody expects you to be a macho man so I said, “no, but I have thought about it often enough.”
“What do you do when you are thinking about it,” she asked.
I didn’t know how to answer that one. If I said, ’I have a tug while I think about it’; she would probably call her Dad, who would boot me up the bum and throw me into the street. I was lost for words. I hung my head and felt my ears burning even more.
“Hey, be cool,” she said in a soothing voice as she released her grip on my hands. Then, placing her right hand against my chest pushed me back onto the bed. I was lying on my back with my legs hanging over the edge of the bed as Jan rolled half on top of me with her right thigh between my own. I could feel my cock starting to swell more and tried to move away a little so she wouldn’t feel it pressing into the top of her thigh: I couldn’t move, she had me pinned. Her lips came down onto mine and she kissed me softly.
“Relax, loosen up and open your lips a little,” Jan instructed before replacing her lips on mine. I became aware of her lips moving on mine and responded naturally; some responses must be imprinted in our genetic make up and not require any conscious thought. Another response was in my cock; it was now so hard I could have pole-vaulted off the bed. After a while Jan rolled off me and lay on her side with her right hand caressing the inside of my thigh. Her hand progressed up my thigh until her hand reached my swollen cock, which was sandwiched between my stomach and my Y-fronts.
“Mmmmmm that feels good,” she said; giving it a few rubs and a squeeze.