Brenda's First Date

Disclaimer: Brenda is eighteen, Charlotte is thirty-nine, Frank is forty-seven, Jack is nineteen, Adella is eighteen, Frank’s friend is forty-two, Pastor Brown is fifty-five, Frances is nineteen, Lacey is eighteen, Geraldine is thirty-eight, Mrs. Judith Bloom is thirty-two, Mrs. Sarah Bloom is forty, Mr. Bloom is forty-five, Mrs. Applegate is forty-one, Mrs. Flint is thirty-seven, Ben is nineteen, and Prince Albert is dead. The term “teenager” applies to people whose ages are thirteen through nineteen, inclusive.

Brenda came home from high school and slammed the kitchen door, even though her mother Charlotte had told her at least a thousand times not to. Brenda’s father Frank was still at work in the city, and wouldn’t be home for hours yet, probably not till very late. Charlotte was at home for her daughter, of course, since she only did her volunteer work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and this was a Friday afternoon. Here in Plainville, most families were well-off enough that the mothers were able to stay home to take care of their children after school, fortunately for the children.

“Mom, Mom, I’ve got the best news! You remember that boy Jack Adams that went with me and my friends to the movies last week?” Brenda’s voice was filled with enthusiasm, and Charlotte knew that whatever Jack Adams might mean to Brenda now, it was something well worth her while to find out.

“Sure, dear. What about him?”

Brenda told her in an exaggerated stage whisper. “Don’t tell anyone yet, but he’s asked me to go parking with him.”

“Wow,” said her mother. “That really is news.” It would be Brenda’s very first date with a boy. “Do you like him?”

“Of course I do. I mean I don’t just like him, I like him like him.”

Charlotte smiled internally at Brenda’s typically teenage way of speaking. She decided to play dumb, just to help her daughter be a little less self-centered for a change.

“Oh. And does that mean you are going to say yes?”

Sometimes mothers could be so dense. “Mo-om! I already did! That is if it’s all right with you?”

“Well, I thought so. Never mind, sit down and tell me all about it.”

Brenda sat down at the kitchen table with her mother. She changed her tone from enthusiasm to concern.

“Mom, you know, when I was having pleasure with Adella Tucci last Tuesday after school?” Brenda hesitated, apparently not sure how to go on: Charlotte decided to just listen carefully.

“Yes? Did everything go well?”

“Oh, sure …. But that’s not what I meant. She told me that it’s a mortal sin to do anything sexual with a boy. Mom, is that really true, or was she just pulling my tits?”

Charlotte was shocked by her daughter’s use of vulgar slang. “Brenda, don’t you use language like that with your mother.” Brenda hung her head in silent apology. After a short pause, Charlotte relented. “But to answer your question, yes, it probably is a sin — for her.”

“Re-eally?”

Charlotte wasn’t sure if Brenda was being serious or subtly sarcastic. She chose to treat the question as a serious one that deserved a serious reply.

“Yes, really. That’s because the Tuccis are Pathoricks, honey. It’s against their religion for a woman to have pleasure with a man unless she’s married to him. Or at least engaged.”

“That must be hard on Pathorick boys and men, Mom.” Brenda sounded amazed.

“Well, I suppose it is.” Of course, there was no reason for Pathorick boys or men to abstain from pleasure with women of other faiths, and Charlotte knew very well that most of them didn’t. She smiled at the memory of a certain friend of Frank’s who had brightened up a tedious week while Frank was away on a business trip. Charlotte also suspected that Frank had enjoyed the company of a colleague’s wife, or perhaps a co-ed or two, while he’d been away, but she felt quite secure that he would always be faithful to her.

Brenda smiled a bit wickedly. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing for them, then, that most of the people in this country are Protestors. We believe the Bible means what it says about ‘uncovering nakedness’, right Mom?”

Charlotte knew that Brenda knew the answer perfectly well from Sunday school and the preaching of Pastor Brown, but it never hurt when dealing with a teenager to reinforce the message.

“That’s right, dear. So you make sure that your friend Jack doesn’t get carried away and actually uncover your privates.”

Brenda replied promptly, “Oh, I’m sure he won’t, Mom.”

Charlotte thought about Jack for a moment and what she knew about him. She didn’t actually have serious cause to worry about his morals, after all. “Well, he has been well brought-up, that’s true — I know his mother well. Very well, in fact.”

“Mo-om!” That was way more than Brenda wanted to know!

Charlotte didn’t reply, and Brenda reverted to her earlier serious mood. “Umm, I know because of what Pastor Brown says Jack can’t, umm, do cunnilingus on me. That would be uncovering, wouldn’t it?”

So Brenda still felt it necessary to ask rhetorical questions. The poor dear must be nervous, Charlotte thought, and desperately trying not to show it. “Of course.”

Brenda hesitated a long time before her next remark. “But there’s a problem.”

Charlotte felt a rush of concern for her daughter. “What’s that, dear?”

Brenda twisted her hands together. “I can’t come, I mean have an orgasm, from mast — mast –“

Charlotte felt a smile internally, but carefully didn’t allow any trace of it to show on her face. She must not allow her daughter to think her mother was laughing at her. “Masturbation, dear. Really? I mean, are you sure?”

Brenda switched from hesitation to rush. “I’m sure, Mom. I mean, Frances tried it and so did Lacey, and then Adella, and even Mrs. Tucci tried, but –“

Charlotte raised one eyebrow, and decided to change the subject slightly, to try to build some rapport between herself and her daughter. “You had pleasure with Adella’s mother? And how was she?”

Brenda’s rush of words went on, though their topic was successfully diverted. “Pretty good, I mean, she had lots of enthusiasm even if I could tell she hasn’t had so many partners. I can’t imagine why, she’s really pretty.”

Charlotte agreed that Geraldine Tucci was really pretty. Still …. “But she wasn’t able to satisfy you?”

Brenda thought about it for a minute. “Not really. I mean, it felt great, don’t get me wrong, but it just didn’t build up to an orgasm, and I could tell it never would, not in a million years. I ended up having to masturbate myself instead.” Brenda blushed.

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Charlotte immediately spotted the blush and hastened to reassure her emotionally vulnerable teen. “Well, that’s not so uncommon. All women aren’t alike in what they enjoy and what they’d like to experience.” She reached out to put her hand on top of her daughter’s knotted hands and was rewarded by seeing Brenda’s face lift a little, perhaps also at being referred to as a woman by her own mother. “But with cunnilingus you have no problem?”

At that question, Charlotte un-knotted her hands and actually smiled. “Not a bit, Mom. When I’m feeling all stoked up, it usually only takes a few minutes. Especially when it’s with someone like Mrs. Applegate or Mrs. Flint.” Brenda named the women of the two immediately neighboring families. “I mean, they really, really know how it’s done.” Brenda had wished that Mrs. Tucci would learn “how it’s done,” too, but of course it wasn’t a teenager’s place to try and teach her. “My friends are awfully sweet, but they just don’t have the same kind of experience, I guess.”

It was Charlotte’s turn to smile wickedly. “Or the same tongue and jaw strength?”

“Mo-om!”

Charlotte paid no attention to this remark. It was no more than she could expect after teasing her daughter so. “Of course, Pathoricks have the same liberties to pleasure between women that we do — even with all their rules, their church can’t claim that the Bible has a word to say against it.” Charlotte continued: “On the other hand, Yewish and Nuslim married women only share pleasure with their sister-wives and of course their husbands.”

“I know, Mom. I asked Mrs. Bloom if she would do me once, and she said no, she couldn’t. But she did give me a kiss and call me a hot little shiksa. What’s a shiksa, Mom?”

“I don’t know, honey.” Charlotte really didn’t: she didn’t have any close Yewish friends, as it happened. “Perhaps you should ask their son Benjamin. He’ll be sure to know.”

Brenda nodded, but with the mental reservation that there was simply no way she was going to ask Ben Bloom anything at all. It would be just too too embarrassing. After all, he was a track star, and she was just an ordinary school nobody.

Charlotte belatedly thought of something. “Brenda, do you mean Mrs. Judith or Mrs. Sarah?”

Brenda’s voice and face showed how scandalized she was. “Mom, puh-leeze! Can you even imagine going to bed with Mrs. Sarah Bloom? I mean really. I don’t see how her husband could stand her, never mind anyone else. She’s just too, well, bossy!” Brenda wondered if the Blooms’ marriage was like the story of Leah and Rachel in the Bible. Except that Mrs. Judith certainly wasn’t barren; in fact, most of the Bloom children were hers.

Charlotte privately agreed about the senior Mrs. Bloom, but considered that it was her duty to make sure her daughter was properly respectful of her elders. “Now that’s quite enough on that subject from you, young lady!” After a pause, she went on, “Mrs. Sarah I’m sure is very attractive to the right kind of person. I wonder if Mr. Bloom –“

Brenda interrupted her mother, something she almost never did. “Mo-om!” She definitely did not want to think about Mr. and Mrs. Bloom in that way.

Again, Charlotte let the implied disrespect go. Since the conversation seemed on the whole to be going so well, she decided to raise another topic of concern, though she carefully schooled herself to be sure her concern didn’t show in her voice or face. “I hope you haven’t been mixed up with any of those Slickan girls at your school, have you? I mean, the ones that dance around the Maypoles and all that?”

Brenda’s answer was immediate and very reassuring. “For sure not, Mom. My friends say, if you share pleasure with Slickan girls, the next thing you find yourself doing is sharing with Slickan boys.” Boys who even did very, very forbidden things with each other sometimes, as Brenda had heard in whispers from her friends, though she wasn’t about to admit anything of the sort. Her mother nodded for Brenda to go on. “I mean, one thing just naturally leads to the other, doesn’t it? And then — well, you’re ruined, aren’t you. You wind up participating in all their wild orgies, and you lose your special relationship with God.”

Charlotte was very relieved to hear her daughter toeing the line with such obvious sincerity. “That’s right, dear. And believe me, no matter what your friends may hear, Slickan boys aren’t any better at sex than Abrahamic boys. What’s more, they don’t have any special improvements in their anatomy, either.” Charlotte had heard from some of her more adventurous woman friends that that wasn’t entirely true, but there was no reason why her little Brenda should have to learn about Prince Alberts — just yet.

“Mo-om!” As if!

Now it was Brenda’s turn to raise a point of concern, harking back to her earlier discussion of her “problem”. “Mom, if Jack winds up not being able to make me come, should I — you know — pretend? Make him believe he has? I don’t want to hurt his feelings, he’s such a nice boy.”

Charlotte’s reply was immediate and firm. “Oh no, dear. You must never do that.”

“Not even if he never found out?”

Charlotte used the line that had worked so well with Brenda in the past for any sort of moral issue involving deception. “Even if he never knew, you’d know.”

Brenda’s face showed clearly that she remembered past conversations. “Well, I guess so. I won’t do that, then. After all, it’s not like I have to have an orgasm to share pleasure, I guess.” Brenda thought once more of Mrs. Tucci and how sweet it had been to lie with her.

“And it’s no way to start a relationship with a boy, lying to him. So he has to know the truth. If he really cares about you, and it’s serious, he’ll be able to wait until marriage.”

“Mo-om! I hardly even know him!”

Well, perhaps that was a little premature, Charlotte thought. It didn’t do to allow one’s hopes to run away with one.

And so the conversation went, talking of this and that, sharing a few little secrets and a bit of harmless gossip, until Charlotte noticed the kitchen clock. “Well, it’s time for Jack to come — I mean get here — ” Charlotte had made the slip deliberately, and winked at Brenda. “– pretty soon. I’m really glad we had this little talk. I’m so proud of you — my girl’s becoming a woman.” Charlotte beamed at Brenda, who returned her gaze with a happy and anticipating expression with just a trace of nervousness.

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“Thanks, Mom.” Brenda’s tone expressed a little more confidence than perhaps she actually felt.

“Are you going to wear your pretty placket dress that we bought together?” Charlotte referred to the centerpiece of a shopping expedition the two had made to the city about a month before, a beautiful long gown in golden-yellow artificial silk with half-bra and thong to match.

Brenda tilted her head to one side. “Of course, silly Mom. I wouldn’t want to make things hard for him, after all.” The plackets would allow her date to have easy access to her body without any risk of “uncovering”. Some of the more daring girls in Brenda’s school actually wore slitted dresses on dates, but Brenda wasn’t so confident of her ability to keep matters under control as all that.

Charlotte said archly, “You wouldn’t? I thought you liked him liked him.”

“Mo-om!” Brenda shook her head rapidly. Sometimes her mom ….

* * *

Like the good boy — or fine young man, rather — that Charlotte knew he was, Jack brought Brenda home right on time, and even came in to meet her parents, who had of course waited up for her. His stay was brief and formal, and as soon as he left, Frank went up to bed, exhausted by his long day at work. Charlotte remained downstairs for a few minutes to speak with her daughter again.

“So how did it go, darling?” Charlotte didn’t really need to ask: the light in Brenda’s eyes and the irrepressible smile that kept breaking out on her lips was testimony enough to the success of her first real date.

Brenda bubbled with enthusiasm and happiness. “Oh, Mom, it was the most wonderful thing. And yes, he has the most wonderful “thing” too.” Brenda smiled wickedly, this time more than just a bit. “We spent so much time just talking, about all kinds of things, what we like and don’t like, and what we have in common, and kissing — and oh, Mom, he is a dreamy kisser, really soft and gentle at first — I never thought a boy could be so gentle, and then wow, much more passionate, he really roused me. And he called me the sweetest names and things.” Brenda hesitated for just an instant, and then continued. “And — and then he opened the glove compartment of his car and got out this little thing — he called it a magic wand, and it really is! He plugged the wire on it into the cigar-lighter on the dashboard, and he used the wand on me — and I came, over and over and over again.” Brenda had in fact had tears running down her face with the intensity of her passion, but there was really no reason to tell her mother every single detail, was there?

Charlotte had vaguely heard of such sexual toys, but hadn’t actually expected to encounter one so close to home. She decided that a blunt question was in order. “A magic wand? He didn’t put it in you, did he?”

Brenda chuckled softly, with a slight edge of having for once gotten one-up on her mother, but then her tone turned entirely serious. “Oh no, Mom, of course not. Don’t worry, I’m going to be a virgin when I marry, whether it turns out to be Jack or not. I know it’s too soon to tell if it’s true love or just sexual desire I’m feeling.” Brenda reverted to pure teenager. “And it’s not really shaped like a presti — prestidigitator’s wand anyway.” Brenda grinned. “No, he just touched my labia and my clit — ” Charlotte frowned for a moment at this vulgarity, and Brenda hastily corrected herself. “I mean my clitoris. Oh, and on my nipples too. It made them pop up just like that!”

Charlotte felt her own body tingling just a little bit at this description, but she kept her voice simply warm and interested. “I see. And were you able to do anything for him?”

“Oh yes, Mom. He was so kind to me, I guess he could tell easily enough it was my first time, and he guided me through masturbating him — see, I learned to say it!” Brenda looked proud. “And I even did a little bit of fellatio as well, although I wasn’t able to finish him off that way. I guess I might need some more jaw strength too.” Mother and daughter shared a silent moment of mutual amusement. “But he was definitely satisfied — I’m so, so glad I remembered to take a handkerchief so none of his seed could spill on the ground, like Onan’s in the Bible story. Well, really the floor of his car, but you know what I mean.”

Charlotte was proud of her daughter’s forethought, and showed it. “Wonderful, darling. Just wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

“But the magic wand, it vibrated you know, and it brought me so much pleasure, I could hardly stand it. One orgasm just wasn’t anywhere near enough. It was the very best sexual experience I’ve ever had.” Brenda paused for a moment, and then continued in the tone of one adult woman to another. “You really should try it out, Mom.”

Charlotte raised both eyebrows this time. Her daughter was growing up, but wasn’t quite grown up yet. Time to reassert herself, but without bruising Brenda’s newfound self-esteem. “Oh? And do you really think Jack would be interested in an old lady like me?”

“Mo-o-om!!”

Updated: December 20, 2016 — 7:00 PM

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