The next Sunday morning, I went through the usual routine of going to Mass and then having lunch with my family. I wished I could call Gina for some encouragement to calm my nerves a bit, but I knew neither of us would have the privacy to talk about what was on our minds.

After eating, I told my family that I was going to meet Gina and Jenny, although I didn’t say that they’d be right on the street in front of my building. I did not explain what we’d be doing that day or where we’d be going.

I think my family was simply grateful that I had found some friends in my own neighborhood. My two years at the Dexter Academy downtown had been lonely ones, and it was not until late in the previous winter that I had met Gina and Jenny who quickly became very close to me.

They also didn’t judge me for getting a scholarship to a private school while they attended the local public high school. In March I had been walking through the park near the river when I passed the two of them sitting on a bench. Socializing with people had never been one of my talents, and I averted my eyes and was about to pass those two girls who were unknown to me. Just as I was alongside them, I heard Gina call out to me. “Hey, honey, how are you doing?”

I stopped and looked at her, but for that moment I was tongue-tied and I was just standing there with my mouth slightly open. New York was not the kind of place where strangers would just randomly hail one another. Gina laughed and said, “We’re not going to bite! What’s your name, anyway? Do you live around here?”

For a second I considered the girl who had addressed me. She was short and she looked young with her dark braided pigtails. I also was aware of her intense dark eyes assessing me. I managed to say, “I’m Chloe and yeah, I live a couple of blocks up that way.”

“Well, I’m Regina Pucci, and this tall drink-of-water is Jenny Weinstein.” Jenny had one of her usual serious expressions, and I could tell in a moment that Gina was the more assertive one, or at least more extroverted.

She had already decided that she wanted more from me beyond just merely saying hello. She continued, “Why don’t you just sit here next to me?” and she patted the bench to her right.

I sat there and we soon found out that we were all sixteen and in the second half of our sophomore years. Gina tended to make quick judgments about people, and she was usually accurate about them. Later on, she said that when she first saw me she could tell that I was on the quiet side but also that she saw something else, something substantial I’d call it. That made her curious to know more about me.

She had said at a much later meeting, “Chloe, you’re not one of those flashy chicks, but that’s what I like about you, I guess. You aren’t one of those phony girls who seem to be all over the place, the ones who are always preening and pouting and stuck up, the ones who will gossip about you and stab you in the back when you least expect it.”

I realized that she also meant that since she could trust me, she could influence me too. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because under her bravado, Gina hid some doubts about herself. She and Jenny weren’t shunned, but they were somewhat to the side of the main female social circles at Evander High School. It was almost an inevitable part of being a teenager, perhaps.

In any case, they welcomed me as the third member of their little team. Among other things, we would teach each other how to deal with a world we were struggling to understand.

One of those topics was our own sexuality and what to do about it. That had come out in the open one Saturday in May when Gina had shown us an explicit European magazine and we tried to grasp what it all meant. Actually, she had several magazines in her possession, but one photo spread was all that Jenny and I could handle in the first sitting. 

Gina, however, had planned a more dramatic introduction to sex for the following day. That was why I was feeling both anticipation and nervousness as I finished lunch that day and prepared to meet my two friends.

*****

I continued to wear my “going-to-church” clothes which were similar to my “going-to-school” clothes that were mandated by the Dexter Academy. The 1970s may have been a low point for fashionable clothes, but I had discovered that I enjoyed going around in traditional feminine outfits. To me, it wasn’t a political or social statement of some kind; I simply enjoyed looking good.

That Sunday, I had a blue jacket, a white blouse, gray skirt, and thigh-high dark tan nylon stockings. Underneath my clothes, I had the white lacy bra and panties that made me feel so sexy just by wearing them. And there was another reason that I had a skirt that day. It was Gina’s idea, but the three of us were going to have an unprecedented – for us, anyway – sexual adventure.

She had suggested that we bring along our favorite “implement.” By that, she meant an object we used for masturbation. One I liked was the big plastic bath brush next to the tub. I had used it to give myself an orgasm when I had taken a bath the previous evening. The photos and the explicit conversations with Gina and Jenny earlier in the day had aroused me, and I was surprised at how intense the result with the brush had been.

However, I had to sneak it out of the apartment somehow, and I got a paper shopping bag and put my toy in that before I left. If anybody noticed that it was missing, I hoped that they would just assume that it had been misplaced. Surely they couldn’t imagine what I would be doing with it that afternoon.

Gina and Jenny were already on the sidewalk, leaning on a parked car. Leaning on cars seemed to be a “male” thing to do, and I was sure it was a small element of Gina’s boldness that she had done that and talked Jenny into it as well.

My two friends gave me a few moments to notice what they were wearing, and they appeared dressed up too. Gina had a dark blue dress with small white dots on it. The hem fell just above her knees. She had no stockings, and her footgear consisted of chunky brown sandals.

Even with her pigtail hairdo, she looked older and more mature than usual. She must have been thinking along the same lines that I was, because the first thing she said was, “Chloe, I’ve been thinking of getting a different look for my hair. You know, so that I look more like an adult. Shoulder-length should be about right. Jenny, what do you think?”

Jenny looked somewhat less formal with a short-sleeved white blouse, a denim skirt, and white ankle socks and sneakers. Her response was, “Would you consider a ponytail like I have?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s not right not for me. Maybe a hairband across the top of my head would work.” Then she finally said something about me. “Baby, you really look good today. Is that what you wore to Mass earlier?”

“Sure, of course it is.”

“And I bet you have something special in that bag of yours. Hah, you don’t have to blush.”

I rallied by trying to make light of it. “Well, I’m not going to take it out right here.”

“I should hope not. You’ll notice that Jenny and I have our own goody bags too. Although, we’re not going to be so goody-good today.” She laughed at her own joke. “So Miss Mangano, this is your building. Show us the way again.”

“I just hope none of my neighbors happens to be in that basement.”

Gina said, “If that happens, let me do the talking. I’ll think of a plausible reason for what three girls are doing in the cellar.”

I lead them down a small flight of stairs from street level. After going through a passageway, we emerged into a courtyard that had a door into the basement itself. It was unnerved because six floors worth of apartments had views of our brief crossing of the yard. I mentioned my worry to Gina once we were inside the building.

“Your neighbors think you’re a good girl, Chloe, and they’ve seen Jenny and me around too. They wouldn’t think anything of three nicely dressed young ladies going through here.”

Maybe I was a bit thin-skinned, but I replied, “Are you implying that I’m not good?”

She smiled and winked at me. Her somewhat oblique comment was, “But you are good, sweetie; you’re one of the best!”

In a couple of minutes, we reached the door of the storeroom, and I pushed it open. I flipped on the overhead lights so that the other two could get to the seats we had discovered the previous day. Once there, Gina turned on an old table lamp that was missing its shade and I turned off the two bare bulbs glaring from the ceiling.

I picked the armchair over to the left, while Gina sat in the middle of the old sofa. Jenny decided to sit beside her to her left instead of using the third chair that was available. I could see that all three of us were jittery, including Gina who tried to cover her feelings with some of her usual bluster.

“So this place is really cozy if you can ignore a certain degree of shabbiness.”

I answered, “All basements in old buildings look like this.” I had guessed that the place had been built in the 1920s after the elevated trains had opened up the area to apartment buildings.

Gina seemed to be babbling a bit. “Well, ladies, we’re going to have some fun and games today, but it’s going to be an educational experience too. Miss Weinstein, show us the libations you brought down for us.”

“Of course, look at this.” She brought out two bottles from her ample bag. One was Bacardi rum while the other was a plastic container of Seven-Up. There was also a set of plastic cups stacked together.

I was impressed. “Where did you get that?”

“From my parent’s liquor cabinet. They hardly ever use anything in there. Notice how the bottle is still almost full.”

Gina said, “Yeah, but Seven-Up? It’s supposed to be cola with rum.” Then she waved her hand and went into a lecturing mode. “Never mind. The thing is, have either of you had any experience with hard liquor?”

“My grandfather lets me taste the beer he drinks,” I answered. “Rheingold, that’s what he likes.”

“Well, the point of this is to ease our nerves a bit, but be careful and just sip it a bit. If newbies like you drink it too fast, it’s going to knock you on your asses before you know it.” I assumed that Gina must have had a least one first-hand experience like that, but I didn’t ask about it. In a few moments she had three cups half-filled with rum and soda, and she passed them around. “I propose a toast to – let’s see, call it female potential.”

Jenny was probably being tongue-in-cheek when she asked, “Potential for what?”

“All kinds of potential, but specifically I mean the sexual kind.” She had more to inform us about. “You see, guys think that they hold all the cards on that, that they know what’s going on when we don’t. In reality, most of them have no clue as to what women are capable of doing.”

After we “clinked” our cups I was half-listening to her as I sampled my drink. It seemed like an odd combination of familiar sweetness mixed with the harsh flavor of the rum. I wasn’t sure if I really liked it, but I did take a few small sips of my cup’s contents.

Gina had more advice about drinking. “When you start to feel a bit of warmth in your body, that’s a good time to stop.” Then she said to me, “So, Chloe, whatcha got hidden in your bag?” I had to take the bath brush out although I almost didn’t want to do it.

“Hah, look at that thing! She likes them big and stiff I see.”

That was quite explicit, and I tried to hide my embarrassment by saying, “Of course, I can only use it in the tub.” I had never dared to sneak it into my bed at night.

“I bet you do use it though. You must be the cleanest girl in the neighborhood, with all the baths you must take.”

She wasn’t being mean, but she was poking some fun at me. I said, “All right, since you’re so smart, what have you got?”

“It’s only a hairbrush,” which she withdrew from her bag. “It’s got a nice wooden handle, which works very well, although it’s nothing like the humongous one you’ve got.”

It was a difficult conversation for me because we were revealing our most intimate secrets to each other. I had never discussed my personal sexual habits with anybody, and it was not a topic that ever emerged in the “health ed” classes of the day. Certainly, most parents were loath to talk about it with their daughters, so it was almost like it didn’t exist. 

I decided to deal with it by being even more direct, although I could hear the reluctance in my voice. “Sometimes I think I’m the only one who does it, although I admit I’ll . . .” Then I stopped.

“Yes, admit to what? That you masturbate?”

I couldn’t take it back now. “That I’m worried about being too involved with it all. I’ll use anything I can get, anytime I can get away with it. I’ll hump my own pillow at night. If I have the chance, I love straddling an arm of my sofa and rubbing myself on it.”

Gina said, “I’ve seen that thing. The cloth on that has a nice nubby texture. It must feel great on your crotch.”

In spite of myself, my fond memories of that sofa excited me. “Oh God, it’s so wonderful to be on top of that chair.” I think I shocked myself when I said, “I can easily come several times in a row when I’m up there.”

Perhaps I was surprised that Gina reassured me. “Chloe, you don’t have to be concerned. You should see how much I work on myself. It’s really perfectly normal, but everybody pretends that women aren’t interested in sex. That’s one of the things we’re going to disprove today.”

I asked, “Aren’t guys, I mean males, embarrassed too?”

“Not to the level we are, although I think some of them fake it. A lot of them will boast about it to each other to show how brave they are.” I wondered how she had known that.

Jenny surprised both of us, I think. “That’s why some of them will have circle jerks.”

“Very good, Miss Weinstein. For one thing, it’s a male competition to see who can shoot the fastest and the mostest. Since you piped up, what have you got for show and tell?”

She was quite calm as she took a cucumber out of her bag. Gina and I were quite voluble in our reactions. I said, “Yeah, wow, I’ve used those too.”

Jenny quite matter-of-factly said, “Yes, they fill up your pussy so nicely, don’t they?”      

Gina said, “Who knew that the produce section was so sexy? I’ve used bananas myself. They feel great, and when you’re done, you can just peel it and eat it if you wish.” Then she reached into her own bag. “This is a good time to revisit one of those publications I had yesterday.”

Jenny sniffed, “Oh please, isn’t porn sort of crass, something that men create for themselves?”

“That’s funny because you seemed interested enough yesterday. Let’s let Chloe tell us what she thinks. There’s a photo spread in here that is beyond anything you’d find in an American publication.”

She handed me the open magazine, and I put it down on my lap. This second time around I mostly knew what I’d see, but I was still reluctant to examine it. Should I really be looking at stuff like this?

Curiosity and a certain amount of peer pressure got to me. Well, it already exists; I can’t undo it. And it’s not going to kill you. I picked up the issue and looked at the photos Gina had chosen for us. Even though I wasn’t as surprised as I had been the previous day, I still felt a strange kind of tension in my body, and my breathing became faster and tighter.

It took some willpower to go through all three pages. The pictures were in color, like the ones in the other magazine, and they had the same basic plot line. A young couple, probably college-age, seduced each other, going from fully dressed and to – well, they never took all of their clothes off, but they were definitely having full intercourse by the end.

I wondered why European girls preferred to bang while still wearing their sneakers and socks, as the girl on the pink bedspread had also done before. Both issues were from the same publication, I noticed. As I had speculated before, maybe it gave a feeling of haste to the proceedings as if the couple was in a big hurry to get the main act already.

For a moment I glanced at Gina and she cocked her head and smiled at me. “Pretty strong stuff, is it not? Go ahead, take it all in.”

“All right, I’ll do that.” My voice did not sound normal.

The setup was sort of a photo shoot within a photo shoot. A blonde girl was posing for a Coca-Cola ad; she even had a Coke bottle to drink from. (A product placement, I assumed). She also seemed to be the one initiating this episode with the photographer, a tall, dark-haired dude who never removed his black T-shirt during the entire event.

As in most such layouts, it was difficult to tell how much time was passing. The blonde girl gave the impression that she was getting right into it. She flashed her white panties at him from under her red-checked skirt, then she flaunted her nipples and her bare crotch.

This was followed by the expected digital and oral foreplay, culminating in several sex acts that took place on the sofa she had been posing on. Maybe it was obligatory in porn, but this set also had two pictures taken from behind the happy couple. The man’s balls and shaft were clearly visible as he pumped himself into the woman.

Gina said, “So what’s your take on this?”

There was a vibration going through me, and I felt the first dampness in my underpants. Nevertheless, I still had a complaint. “It’s not exactly very romantic.”

Gina laughed at that. “Who’s to say it isn’t? Maybe they’re been lovers for a while. Besides, you’re missing the point of the whole thing.”

It struck me that the theme was that they didn’t know each other before. “It’s like a male fantasy of meeting a hot, willing girl while doing some job, in this case being a photographer. Here they don’t even kiss each other; she gets right into, ah sucking on . . .”

I was still having trouble describing things directly, so Gina finished for me. “Let’s be blunt; sucking on his cock. Why don’t you let Jenny have a look and see what her take on it is?”

Jenny was surprisingly calm as I handed the issue over to her. “Sure, I’ll give my opinion on it.” As she first perused the pictures, her eyes widened and then she frowned. But more than a minute went by and she didn’t say anything. Her first words were, “This girl is really attractive I’d say.”

Gina replied, “Did you expect them to use homely women in these things?”

“It’s just that I wouldn’t mind looking like that.”

Gina seemed upset by that. “Jenny – and Chloe too – we are definitely not homely! Get that idea out of your heads.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that we were. You used that word, not me.”

It had already struck me that some care had gone into making that model – who was probably about twenty or so – look as good as possible. Her clothes were appropriate for high summer, and her skin seemed to be glowing. I knew that it was possible to adjust the color of photos, and I thought a bit of orange had been introduced into the skin tones.   

Gina said, “Forget what she looks like; notice the way she’s acting. She’s obviously having a whale of a good time. Like in this shot, for example.” I was one of the views from behind, Miss Glowing Blonde had dug her red fingernails into the behind of Mister Naughty Photographer as if to pull him in deeper. She was also using her white and blue sneaker for leverage.

Gina said, “It’s time we moved this along. It’s just about panty-showing time. And we all know what that is a prelude to, which requires us to take them off.”

I had nearly forgotten the purpose of us being there in the first place, and I was feeling a mixture of arousal and anxiety, with a dash of confusion tossed in. Gina could always read my feelings very well, and she picked up on my emotions. “Chloe, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But I was hoping that little cup of rum would relax you a bit.”

The booze didn’t seem to be working as intended, and I shrugged. Jenny had to add some of her esoteric knowledge. “I’ve heard that alcohol depresses male sexual response but doesn’t affect females.” She sounded like some kind of clinician, but I don’t know where she got her info from.

Gina took another sip from her cup and put it back on the floor. “It looks like I’m going to have to get this party started since I created it.” Without delay, she yanked her dress above her waist and spread her bare legs. For a short girl, her limbs seemed longer and more shapely than I had expected.

Of course, the main point was to show off her underwear. “Pretty cute, wouldn’t you say?” Her drawers were white with pink polka dots. She got her feet up on the sofa so we could have a good look.

I pulled my courage together, and I pulled my skirt up too. My underwear impressed my companions. Jenny said, “My God, those are beautiful.” They were my white pair, all lacy except for a cotton panel covering the crotch.

The positive reception suddenly made me feel more daring, and I started boasting. “The bra matches this, and I also have black pairs of both. I admit when I wear these to school and nobody but me knows it, it feels wonderful.”

“You’re going to feel naughty now and maybe flash some guys with your alluring panties.”

I knew Gina was kidding me, but I still defended myself. “Come on, you know I’d never do that.”

At that, Jenny pulled up her modest skirt and showed what she had on. Gina giggled, “What are those, granny panties?”

“They’re bloomers, and I got them downtown. Notice how they have lacy hems around the knees.”

I said, “They’re actually very pretty.”

Jenny was underwear proud too. She stretched out her gangly legs. “They are a copy of what was fashionable in Edwardian times, or was it Victorian?” I never could keep the difference between those time periods straight. “I only wish they opened up in the back, like some of them did.”

Gina said, “Yeah, that could be a lot of fun. This must be what Judy Garland wore in that movie.”

“Meet Me in St. Louis? She also had long stockings I guess like Chloe has. And those high-top shoes.”

Gina sang, “ ‘I went to lose a jolly hour on the trolley, and I lost my hymen instead.’ ” That was so lewd that we all laughed at it. Then she commented, “Now that I’ve broken the ice a bit, it’s time to remove these things and show what we’ve really got under all this.”

That was going to be tough because no one had ever seen my private parts except a doctor, and I went to a female one because it made me feel more comfortable.

Gina of course started it off. “It’s easy; watch and see.” She yanked her panties off and dropped them on the floor, then she spread he legs on the sofa cushion again. I was fascinated to see what her pubic bush looked like. It was tight and springy, and it was black like the hair on her head.

Jenny followed and took her Edwardian bloomers or whatever they were off. Her hair down there was voluminous and somewhat tangled, and it was the same light brown color as her regular hair. Gina said, “Don’t you ever consider trimming that a bit?”

“If it grows naturally, then I want to leave it as it is.”

“I didn’t say you had to shave it off.” Then she turned to me. “So, Miss Mangano, you’re such a hot little number, show us what you’ve got. I can see right through that lace you know.”

In some mood of defiance, I took my pair off and tossed them on the floor. My bush was medium brown, and I had trimmed it to fit neatly inside my underwear. “There, are you happy now? Should I take my stockings off too?”

“It’s your choice, you don’t have to. I personally like the lacy tops of those things.” She meant the parts that fit tightly midway up my thighs. “They are sort of a counterpoint to the bottoms of Jenny’s pants. Now, this is more than a fashion show. Should I leave the magazine on the floor where we can look at it?” It was open to the photo spread we had looked at earlier.

For a moment I wished that a fashion show was as far as we were going to go at that point. Maybe we had done enough for that afternoon. But Gina was tuned into my feelings, and she gently requested something from me. “Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me, relax a bit while I get started? I particularly like those shots of him on top. She’s obviously digging it.”

There was an explicit dare in what she was suggesting, and I moved to her sofa. There was that male side to Gina again; if I can do this, then you can do it too. As I sat next to her, she surprised me by throwing her right thigh over my leg. Her flesh was warm against mine, and she looked at me as if I would protest. But I didn’t.

The weird thing is that I liked her body against mine, and I felt more relaxed, frisky even. Does she have some lesbian urges in her? In a part of my mind that even I didn’t want to admit to, I had such fantasies too once in a while.

What did they call that, a girl crush? Gina had never been the object of one of mine, but she suddenly looked very good with her dress up and her underpants removed. She reassured me. “It’s easy honey, you must have done this so many times. Just rub yourself down there – you know all the good places – and then put your brush handle in. As for myself, I’m pretty turned on right now, and I think this is going to be a good one.”

I didn’t ask her what she was thinking about, but whatever it was set her off quite quickly. Maybe she imagined herself as the golden model getting it on the furry bed or sofa that had been her perch for the Coke photo session. “Oh, this is so nice. I was pretty wet when all this started.” She started moaning as she moved the brush jerkily around inside herself. “I really need something bigger than this. Like a real dildo would be great.

I was a bit vague on what a dildo was, but I was sure I could find out later. Meanwhile, Gina’s excitement was spreading to me. She was so close that I could feel her leg sliding on mine and there was a sort of vibration from her torso as her breathing increased. My own hand dropped between my legs, and I started touching everything down there that I knew would feel good. “My, this feels great.”

I heard her response, “Yeah, honey, I knew you had it in you, you sexy little minx.”

When I glanced over, I was startled to see that Jenny already had her cucumber in herself. She was sitting against the far arm of the couch with her feet up and her legs spread. I was equally surprised to see her grinning at me.

I noted her technique, which was to move the vegetable in and out with one hand while the fingers of the other circled her stretched opening. When she stopped looking at me, she closed her eyes and her head fell back as she whimpered, I’d call it.

In those days it was difficult for ordinary girls like us to know what a woman sounded like during orgasms. I knew that I would have preferred to make a lot of noise, but I couldn’t do that everywhere I wanted – like in my own bed, for example. I might lift my body off the mattress, but I’d have to whisper my pleasure quietly.

A few times I had dared do it in a ladies’ room at school, but that required even more discretion. My mouth would be open, but I had to surpass all sounds except a little squeak at times.

I knew Gina was going to come first and give me one piece of missing knowledge. Her fingers and her hairbrush were moving frantically, and suddenly she leaned forward. I heard, “Oh my God!,” and then she loudly yelped a couple of times. So she was one of the loud ones too. The other who of us were staring at her in awe.

Then she fell back against the couch and tried to catch her breath. As she looked over at Jenny she said, “Say, Jen, would you like me to help you with that?” She rubbed her fingers, and I knew what she was referring to.

Jenny was quite lucid, “Sure, if you got an idea, I’d appreciate it.” They were close friends, but was Jennifer going to allow her to touch her in the most intimate of places?

It turned out that she was fine with it. Gina put her fingers around the cucumber and moved them around the stretched opening. Jenny grabbed her friend’s hand to move it in the way that pleased her. “This is going to be perfect, I can feel it already.”

At her climax, she grunted a couple of times and lifted her legs up and slammed them down on the cushion. Gina’s comment was weirdly funny. “Glad I could be of assistance.”

Then she turned to me and put her arms around me. She kissed me warmly, and I kissed her back. It was the first time I had ever been kissed like that, and it was a bit disturbing that it had been with a girl but I liked it anyway. 

“Poor Chloe, you haven’t had a chance to use that wonderful bath brush on yourself.”

“I don’t know, this hasn’t been the easiest thing for me to try.”

“I know you’re a bit shy but I have an idea for you too. Why don’t you get up on that sofa arm and do that little trick of yours?”

“You really think that will work?”

“It seems to have always been effective before. You have nothing to lose by giving it a go.”

 The couch had a different material from the one at home, but it seemed promising. I mounted it and pushed my bare underside along it. Instead of sitting backwards and holding on to the back, I straddled it looking forwards and I gripped the arm itself.

Immediately I realized that Gina’s suggestion was just right for me. I pushed down on the cloth and a couple of little yips came out of my mouth. I had to thank my friend for her erotic insight. “Yes, this is just right.” The tingling seemed to be going right through my pelvis into the rest of my body.

I hit upon the idea of moving my rear end against the riser at the back, and moving myself back and forth on the level place and up and down on the rear portion. I knew my friends were watching me, but I had lost my self-consciousness. They were understanding enough not to say anything to distract me.

And I was free to moan as much as I wanted. It felt like everything in my vulva was pulsating, and I held on tightly as I started to build a rhythm. It was turning into my best couch experience ever. My hair swung around in front of my face as I moved faster and faster. I wasn’t even fantasizing about anything; the sensations were all I needed.

Just before I climaxed, I said something like, “I’m coming, I’m going to come right now.” Then I indulged in some incoherent yelling. Somehow I was aware that I was louder than my friends had been, but I was just doing what came naturally.

When I was done, I fell forward over the arm and collected my wits. When I looked to my left and saw Gina staring at me. I couldn’t decipher her expression. Jenny was obviously amused, and she smiled at me. “You really blew your doors off with that one.”

Gina said, “You ladies should sit over here against me.” We would up like three cuddling kittens as we put our arms around each other. Soon we were sipping our drinks and talking..

Gina said, “We still have plenty of time. Where did you say you were going with us?”

I struggled to remember if I had indicated anything. “Maybe Fordham Road, I’m not sure.”

“To see a movie?”

“Then I’ll have to mention which one we saw.”

“So we just had some pizza in Belmont maybe. Then we walked around and sat in that park for a while.” It seemed like a good cover story; some harmless high school girl fun.

Then she said, “Anybody want to try all that again? I know I have the energy for it.” The joys of being young.

*******   

 We all had the desire for another go-round. That time Gina wanted to try my sofa technique, and she was very pleased with it. “Chloe, you are an erotic genius for coming up with this.” I finally got to use my bath brush for the reason I had brought it.

After that, we were satiated for the afternoon. Gina said, “Now I really am hungry. I think we should go over to Ruschmeyer’s” That was a luncheonette/ice cream parlor on Gun Hill Road.

As we were about the leave the areaway and enter the street again, I had another attack of jitters. “I hope no one sees us coming through here.”

“You worry too much. Just act like you belong here, which in fact is true.”

Jenny bought a small bottle of Pepsi. She wanted to use it to hold rum we could pour into some colas at the restaurant. Gina winked at her. “You should have gotten a Coke like Miss Golden Blonde. Here, don’t waste it; I’m kind of thirsty right now.” Jenny then refilled it at the underpass at Bronx Boulevard.

The first thing we did at Ruschmeyer’s was wash our hands. I said, “My fingers are covered with lady juices.” Gina was more direct. “You’re so dainty at times. The word cunt describes it well enough.”

We got a booth in the back with no one was in the seats in front of us or to the sides. Our high spirits got to us, and we became very giggly. We were talking about the experiences in the basement and Gina cautioned us, “Hey, guys, keep it down a bit. Somebody might overhear us.”

Nevertheless, we were still trying to control ourselves as the waitress, a middle-aged woman named Martha who knew us from previous visits, took our orders of sandwiches, fries, and other side dishes. She probably wondered what we found so amusing. For girls this age, it must be boys. Well, that would have been partially right if one considers boys a likely subject for masturbation.

All of us got colas, and Jenny slipped some rum from her bottle into our drinks. She was sitting by herself facing forward, while Gina and I were on the opposite bench. My companion said, “Well ladies, we have to go back to that room again whenever we want further experimentation. I’m beginning to think of it now as our own little clubhouse.”

The idea of that made me nervous. “Maybe we shouldn’t push our luck any further.”

She was joking when she said, “Oh, piddly-posh.”

“We did make a lot of noise in there.”

“And so what? The door is locked, anybody who noted the sounds would just assume that a female or two were having orgasms.” That didn’t go over well with me, and she could tell that from my expression. “Where does the super in your place live, anyway?”

“He’s on the first floor.”

“I didn’t see a washing machine or dryer down there.”

“There aren’t any.”

“See? So maybe you’ll get somebody down there checking their electric meter or something once in a while.”

Yet we were drinking our spiked beverages more deeply now, and even with the food I know I was feeling somewhat giddy, “lit-up” as the term is. It was my first experience with liquor, and I remembered Gina’s caution about being careful with it.

It was Jenny who soon said something amazing. “I wonder if when guys have circle jerks, they help each other out if one gets, you know, stuck. Maybe nerves get to some of them at times.”

Gina frowned, and she hesitated before saying, “You mean like I did with, ah . . .”

Jenny seemed fearless. “You mean with me? Yeah, exactly.  Lending a helping hand, I’d call it.”

Her friend chose her words carefully. “I’ve heard rumors that guys, if they don’t get enough access to, you know . . .” She seemed surprisingly reluctant again.

Jenny simply said, “Pussy.”

“Well, maybe just handjobs or something.”

I contributed my bit. “Being in high school is not quite like being on a sailing ship for months, you know.” Perhaps I was thinking of the Pequod, but I had never gotten very far with that book even though it had been assigned in an English class.

Gina was back to her lecturing; I sometimes wondered where she picked up her information. “Despite what adults may think, I know in our school kids are not nearly as wild as they imagine them to be. They are not getting as much sex as they will claim. Of course, adults never think it’s their own kids who are acting bad.”

I said, “We’ve all been pretty bad today too.”

“I’d call in being naughty, not bad.” She paused for a moment. “You know what would have been fun? We should have put our panties into our purses and walked out of there not wearing them.”

I had never heard of such a thing before, and I was somewhat scandalized thinking about doing that. “What would the point of that have been?”

“I just thought of it. I bet it would feel great, to have the warm air coming up around our hips, yet no one would know what we were doing. It makes me aroused just thinking about it.”

“Well, we missed our chance.”

“Nonsense. We can do it any time we want. Just don’t wear a skirt too short. But yeah, that’s another experiment we can try any time we wish.” While pondering that, she reassured me. “We could still have our drawers in our bags so we could put them back on any time we want to. So Jenny, what do you think of that idea?”

“Hey, it sounds great; I’m up for it. Let’s try it soon and if it works as intended, we can go back to Pucci’s Club and finish ourselves off.”

My friends seemed to be changing right in front of me. They were gaining confidence in themselves I’d say. I myself felt that I was already different. “All right, count me in I guess. But call it Mangano’s club, because I found the place.”

“Chloe, you should try the panty-less concept all day when you go down to school and back.”

“I’m not ready to go that far yet.”

“That’s okay, I’m not ready to do it at Evander either. You have to build up to it.” She got a devilish look on her face. “It does seem intriguing to be talking to some guy there and knowing, I’m not wearing panties right now. Of course, I’d never tell anybody that.”

Jenny was more daring. “It wouldn’t be fair to tell that to a guy and not follow up on it.”

“I’d be more worried about what people would think of me.”

When Martha brought the check, I thought she might smell alcohol, but if she did, she didn’t mention it. Maybe other students had tried that trick before; it wasn’t that hard to invent.

As we walked out on the street, Gina was in the middle and all three of us held hands. Two girls in that era holding hands in public would have been noticed; somehow three just implied innocent friendship. To me, I guessed that both views of it were correct.

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