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It started when I was in junior high school.

One day, as I was sitting in the back of the classroom during study hall, I began to daydream about one of the older boys in the school. Unconsciously, my hand drifted under my skirt, and my fingers were lightly rubbing the edge of the elastic of my panties.

Vickie’s voice, from the seat behind me, was startling when she whispered, “Oh, Barb, isn’t that lovely.”

“Shut up! Someone might hear you!”

“Don’t worry, No one is paying any attention.” Then Vickie’s hand was suddenly under my skirt, feeling the location of my fingers. She squeezed my hand, and her hand drifted slowly, gently upward. “Where is it?”

Her fingers generated marvelous feelings as they caressed my pubic mound. But, all too soon, the bell rang and it was time to leave. Confused, I tried to avoid her as we left school, but she caught up to me and walked beside me.

“I can make it feel really good,” she said in a hoarse voice, as we walked side by side. Frankly, my knees were weak, and my mind whirled with plans for letting her prove her ability.

Although I hadn’t paid much attention to her before, I began to treat Vickie as a best friend.

Just a few days later, we were playing after school in her back yard. Her house was the same as the others in the neighborhood, but her back yard was very deep–it actually extended the length of two or more of the ordinary back yards. And, there was a grove of about a half dozen pine trees, that surrounded a cool, dark glade. In that glade, I felt completely isolated from the rest of the world.

We were doing something–I can’t recall what–then I felt her presence behind me, and her warm breath in my ear, as she whispered, “I’d like to make you feel good.”

Her arms went around my waist, and she kissed me, or licked me–I don’t know–on the nape of my neck. It would sound icky to a young girl, but it felt–well it felt nice. Very nice.

How hot she seemed as her lips caressed my neck–and how natural it seemed as she pulled my arms upward, and lifted my shirt off in a fluid motion. Her hand rubbed the surface of my ‘teen’ bra, and focused pressure on my right nipple. My breasts were still conical, just developing, but her rubbing showed me for the first time just how sensitive my nipples could be.

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All I wanted was a nice, safe, monogamous relationship.

Of course in high school I was a simple guy, a bit different from the rest of the people where I grew up. I had a direction and a purpose; where most kids were interested in going to parties and getting drunk (and maybe a peek if they were lucky), I wanted to study and make something of myself.

You know the kind. Poor white trash trying to make something of himself; the kid in the corner with the glasses held together by tape, calculator in hand. If this were an earlier age, he’d be trying to read the little black numbers off the slipstick; maybe in the future it’s a laptop with holograms projecting out of it’s surface.

Except that I never wore glasses. My parents told me that in order to get along in this life you need to dress well and look good, and who gives a damn about your brains. So I’m just shy of 6 feet tall and fairly well built; I even play waterpolo when sufficiently drunk enough not to care. But my desire was to be a professional, perhaps a systems analyst, with a nice wife and a couple of kids. The dog in the front yard and the Volvo in the garage is optional, of course.

When I was admitted into Pacific Tech, I was elated. All the hard study and good grades allowed me into one of the toughest schools in the state. Yes, the place had a 6 to 1 ratio male to female, but I was only there to study. As soon as I figured out what I wanted to do with my life, and as soon as I graduated to a successful job I would go about finding that nice woman who I could marry and live happily ever after with. My life was progressing quite nicely, thank you, and on the path I foreordained for myself.

One of the first things that happens at PacTech (as we all knew the place) was “Freshman Camp”, a place where all the students went to learn about the honor code and meet the various fraternities. It’s generally a three-day affair which takes place in a small cove just south of Avon on Santa Catalina Island.

We all gathered in the middle of the student houses for the bus ride out. The freshman class, about 200 students, brought their gear out and waited. Looking around I found more than a sufficient supply of calculators hanging from nerdy guy’s belts to satisfy the computational requirement of any one of NASA’s space probes. I was glad for my parent’s advice to keep care of myself and my appearance; I certainly stood out from the crowd!

The busses arrived, and the great mass proceeded to stuff themselves in. Not in any particular hurry I moved to the back of the second bus, and made myself comfortable. As the bus packed, a rather pretty girl picked me out, and worked her way to the back to join me.

She wore a rather tight leather miniskirt, a tank top, and a black leather jacket; the exception to the rule of t-shirts and messed up hair. From this vantage I saw a rather shapely ass and thighs dressed in black fish-net stockings, and something inside of me awoke for the first time.

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I guess I realized my fetish started when I was in high school. One weekend, a whole group of my friends went up to the lake to party and get some sun and water-skiing in. There was this really CUTE girl who I was seeing. Her family was rich and let her do basically whatever she wanted. So she asked to take her brother’s speedboat out and of course they consented. I think that she had just learned how to drive but had been navigating her father’s speedboat as well as some of our friends’ ski-boats for a while. I don’t think she had ever taken her brother’s boat out before. But what the hell, he was away at college and wouldn’t care anyways. Right? Well, I remember a whole bunch of problems getting the boat up to the lake, but once it was there, the fun started.

Valerie had long blond hair (being the California beach girl) and a really knockout tan slim body, with blue eyes and pouty lips. She was always wearing as little clothing as possible (to get more sun she said). The day after we got there, Val was wearing a red bikini and she had these cute dainty feet with red nail polish. I remember looking at her long tan legs and gazing downwards to her feet. She was a water-skier and had smooth, muscular, but not too muscular legs that saw their share of sunlight. Her cute brown feet were in white flip-flops, the kind that has the really thin stringy thongs which showed off her cute feet. I got an instant hard-on.

She pulled me to my feet where the group was sitting in the sand. We hadn’t begun to ski yet so she told the group she was going to warm up the boat and get used to driving it by taking it around the lake once. She of course called me to go with her or this would be the end of the story.

Her brother’s boat was a fast jet boat that he sometimes used for racing. It had a benchseat in it big enough for only two. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she put her leg forward and as I was admiring her beautiful, nicely-tanned strong legs, I saw a big pedal shaped like a big bare footprint on the floorboard right in front of her. It had a raised ridge along the side of it and the entire gleaming footboard surface had raised bumps kind of like corrugated steel. The shiny metal pedal was at least 14″ high and stood straight up. I had never seen a pedal on a boat before and asked her what it was for.

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Well, this is my first attempt revealing experiences that I have never shared with another person (other then when it happened, of course).

You say, “what prompts you to write about this stuff?” Well, the answer is simple. I have read x-rated stories on BBS’, read those HOT stories in the adult magazines, and have lived with the fact that none of that exciting type of stuff has ever happened to me.

In the hope that others will share what they believe to be their benign stories, let me share one of mine…

The year was 1979, I was a college student in Chicago at an extremely competitive school, one where books and studying were the norm. Relationships were for after college.

Anyway, it had been a long, hard semester. I had gotten pneumonia and had had a very tough time completing all my courses on time and successfully. I am sure I would have failed at least one course if not for my friend Melinda. She took notes in class for me and made an effort to get me up to speed enough to complete my final exams.

By the end of the semester I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. I looked forward to nothing more than packing up my belongings and heading home for some rest and relaxation… and no libraries.

It was around 8:30pm the night before I was set to head home. I was packing up my belongings and blasting the radio… the most appropriate method of psychological release at the moment. Suddenly at more door appeared Melinda and several other friends and acquaintances, including Tami. Tami lived in the room next to Melinda. With all the time I spent studying and cramming with Melinda it was always a pleasure to admire Tami. She was extremely cute, a year younger and a great conversationalist. Whenever we took a break from studying it was always a joy to sit and talk about everything and nothing with Tami. I had always been interested in her, but never had the opportunity as our relationship was definitely aiming in the platonic direction.

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If her front view had been devastating, the view of her back was even more awesome, a wide “V” of rippling muscularity that tapered to her narrow waist as she slowly straightened her arms to reveal the incredible development of her triceps. Then, turning again to face him, she flexed abdominal muscles that stood out in bold relief like a washboard under the curve of her ribs.

“Enjoying the show, little boy?” she asked mockingly. “D’you like big girls? Me, I stand 6’8″ in my bare feet and weigh 265 lbs., all muscle! And I’m still growing!”

Tom tried to swallow, but his mouth was almost completely dry. “You–you’re unbelievable!” he was finally able to croak. “I–I didn’t think it was possible for a girl to have such huge muscles.”

She smiled faintly. “Lots of people think that,” she said softly. “As you can see, they’re wrong. Male hormones aren’t the only reason most men are taller and have bigger upper bodies than women. It’s a matter of genetics. Today only a few women have the genetics to develop muscles like mine, but as more and more women develop themselves physically there will be more of us born every day. Women’s bodies are inherently stronger than men’s; they have to be to be able to bear children. And in time women will have the size and muscle to go with their superior bodies, and then it will be men’s turn to become the weaker sex. And when that happens, we’ll take over and straighten out the mess you men have made of the world.” (click to read entire story…)