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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Touch Me
by The One (wordzwizardz@hotmail.com)

***

In a time when sexuality was something to be hidden 
from the young, two childhood friends discover one 
another as they come of age. (mf-teens, youths, 1st)

***

His legs cramped from squatting, Simon stood up from 
gazing into the tidal pool. He straightened, stretched, 
and ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. The 
sea breeze was cool and salty on his face and the sun 
was pleasantly warm, not unbearably hot, but enough for 
an excuse to wear shorts and short sleeves. It didn't 
matter here anyhow; no one could see him.

Simon was no stranger to this stretch of coast of the 
Virgin Islands. His family had a summer home not far 
from here, shared with the family of a friend and 
partner of his father's. Since he was a young boy he 
had spent endless days exploring the area with Mariana, 
the daughter of his father's friend. They knew all the 
secluded coves and hidden beaches others didn't, and 
enjoyed calling places like these 'theirs.' Today Simon 
had slipped away from everyone else, even Mariana, to 
get away on his own for a while.

Long ago he had established this place as his favorite 
spot in all the world. Sheltered on one side by a rocky 
cliff jutting out into the sea, and on the other by 
impenetrable jungle, it was accessible only by way of a 
tiny trail, the entrance of which Simon had concealed 
with ferns. Even Mariana didn't know about it. Though 
recently he had considered sharing it with her. 

They were childhood friends since before they could 
clearly remember; he would soon be sixteen and she 
fifteen. Over the years he ha d watched her leave 
girlhood and slowly become a young lady. Now with each 
passing day she seemed to grow more beautiful. On this 
holiday in particular he could not keep his mind or 
eyes off her, and was feeling very new, very strange 
sensations in both mind and body. It was part of his 
reason for coming here today. After a week around 
Mariana, he couldn't stand it anymore.

Making sure his discarded shoes and socks were in no 
danger of being claimed by a wave, Simon venture out 
into the water. It was warm and crystal clear here in 
the cove, and he could see straight to the bottom just 
as well as in the tidal pool, though the cove was twice 
as deep. Farther out toward the open ocean waves 
crashed against dark rocks in faming, booming displays 
of power. But close to shore the water swelled in and 
out a difference of only a few feet, and the waves were 
reduced to ripples barely reaching his knees. 

He let the slight undertow pull at his feet for a few 
minutes, gazing out across the cove. The water was so 
shockingly crystal clear that he could see the bottom 
no matter where he looked. He couldn't always 
distinguish details as the ripples and motion on the 
surface blurred them, but the colors were vividly 
present, making it seem as though the water itself was 
white, green, black, brown, blue, and pink all at once, 
just as the sand and coral beneath it, and when the sun 
shone on it the surface danced with ribbons of gold. 

The rocks protecting the mouth of the cove rose like 
immoveable sentries, brown and nearly black with age 
and weather, and starkly white in patches where 
barnacles clung to their sides. The sea surged against 
the rocks; the mighty explosions of the waves cast fans 
of spray high into the air, droplets sparkling like 
bits of glass.

Simon took a deep breath of the warm sea air and turned 
back to the tidal pool. Its surface was smooth and he 
could see straight to the bottom three feet down. A 
tiny school of fluorescently purple fish darted this 
way and that searching for a way out the wouldn't be 
found until high tide in a few hours. But the creature 
that caught Simon's greater interest was a pale yellow 
sea star crawling along the sand at the bottom of the 
pool. His hand shattering the crystal water he reached 
down for the animal. His arm wasn't nearly long enough 
to touch it, and he withdrew from the pool, sending the 
surface shivering with ripples. 

Though confident he was alone he looked around to make 
sure before shedding his shirt. Now it was safe to get 
wet; he took a breath and plunged his arm again under 
the water, his head and chest following before his 
fingers closed around the sea star. Paying no mind to 
its arms grasping his hand he burst back through the 
surface and shook his head like a dog to clear the 
water from his eyes. He sat back on the sand and 
examined the creature blindly struggling to escape him. 
It was then that he became aware of being watched. 
Looking up sharply he found himself staring at 
Mariana's slightly freckled face peering at him from 
behind a tree, grinning with boyish amusement.

The sea star dropped from Simon's hands back into the 
tidal pool as he bolted for his shirt. He felt his face 
turn hot and red at this awful embarrassment. It was 
unthinkable for a girl to see him shirtless, even 
though the thought of such an encounter with Mariana 
gave him pleasant chills. He dove into his shirt and it 
wasn't on properly, but at least he had made the effort 
to make himself decent.

When his head was through his shirt he saw Mariana had 
left the cover of the foliage and was coming toward his 
giggling playfully, her chestnut hair and summer dress 
fluttering in the sea breeze. He felt his face flush 
again just from looking at her.

She called, "I thought I might find you hiding in one 
of your little secret places. What are you doing all 
the way out here by yourself?"

"I-I thought I was alone," he stammered. It was all he 
could manage to say.

Mariana's face fell. "Do you want to be alone, then?"

Simon realized his mistake. "No! No, I just meant, 
about my shirt and all... I thought I was alone..."

She laughed. "It's all right. I understand; I was the 
one spying on you, remember?"

He frowned. "How did you find this place anyway?"

She shrugged. "I saw you disappearing into the woods 
and I followed you. It gave me an excuse to get away 
from Mother - both our mothers, at that. Don't take 
this the wrong way, but your mum's constant questions 
drive me insane!"

He laughed. "I know how you feel."

"And besides," she continued, "You've known me forever. 
Did you really think I'd pass up a chance to go 
exploring?"

He smiled, remembering the many summers as children 
spent hunting imaginary game in the dark jungles of 
their mothers' gardens, or trekking down the shoreline 
just out of sight of the house, and feeling a hundred 
miles away. How silly it seemed now that the dimensions 
of the world were in proper proportion in his mind. But 
more important now was the girl standing before him. As 
all the world had been to him as a small child, so she 
was to him now, new and thrillingly unknown, something 
wonderful to be explored. 

"What are you thinking?" There was amusement in her 
voice. 

"What?" he asked, only now realizing he had been 
staring blankly at nothing. "Oh. Nothing really. Just 
about being a kid, you know?"

"We still are kids," she said. 

"Well, in a sense, I guess," he said, "I mean young 
kids. When we were small."

She smiled, reminiscing. "Don't you wish we could go 
back to that age? Back when everything was new and 
exciting?"

He looked at her in sudden seriousness. "Not really."

"Why not? Remember how much fun we had?"

"We can have fun now too. Only it can be better because 
we're half grown-ups now. We can do things we never 
dreamed of as kids."

"What do you mean?"

He was saying words without listening to himself, 
trying to suggest a rush of vivid, forbidden ideas 
without directly speaking of them.

"Just, you know, all that we couldn't do then. My dad 
says we're reaching a new step in life. I don't know 
exactly what he means by it, but I know that I feel 
different sometimes. I mean..." His great monologue was 
quickly breaking down. Mariana's expression was getting 
more and more incredulous as he babbled on, lacking the 
understanding to express his feelings.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, "How do you 
feel different?"

He felt strange now, lightheaded and aggressive at the 
same time. "There's just something here - inside - that 
was never there before. And... and I like it. It feels 
good. Like getting excited as a kid, only a different 
kind of excitement. An emotion that... that takes over 
your whole mind, and your whole body, and you can't 
think of anything else, and it's torture. But I still 
like it." He finished, realizing he was on his feet and 
breathing hard. 

He felt the prickle of sweat breaking out across his 
forehead and a chill ran down his spine. He stared at 
Mariana. Her expression had changed as he spouted his 
last words. She was looking at the ground, her face 
turning slightly red. 

Simon felt humiliated now. "I'm sure you think I've 
lost it, don't you?"

Mariana turned her face toward him and her voice 
quavered when she spoke. "If you have lost your head," 
she began, glancing over her shoulder, "Then we both 
have."

He understood her deep down, but his mix of shock and 
relief didn't let him comprehend her words. "What do 
you mean? Do you know what I was talking about?"

"I know. Exactly what you meant, I know," she said, "I 
feel it too."

"What does it mean?" he demanded, "Does it have a 
name?"

"I think so. Yes, it does. But Mother won't talk to me 
about it. She says I'm still too young."

"How can you be too young if you're feeling it now?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" she cried, "But it must 
be bad. Anything Mother won't tell me about has to be 
bad."

"How can it be bad if it feels so good?"

"I don't know!" she said helplessly, "I don't 
understand it. When it comes over me it tells me I need 
to do something. But I don't know what to do. Do you?"

"No," he said, "But I know it gets worse... I mean, 
better... I mean... it gets better and worse at the 
same time... when I'm around you."

She stared at him.

He asked, "Is there someone who makes it worse... 
better... better-worse...for you?"

She nodded slowly and whispered, "You."

They blinked at each other, dying in the agony of 
trying to understand. 

Finally he said, "What does it mean? What are we 
supposed to do?"

Their eyes locked, and Mariana whispered, "Touch me."

Ponderously Simon reached out and gripped Mariana's 
arm. Her breath fluttered, and something told him not 
to be so firm. He relaxed his finger and let his hand 
slide up and down her arm. Her other hand covered his 
and guided him up her arm to her shoulder. Her heart 
was pounding and his mind was racing; these were 
regions of a girl's body forbidden to all except 
herself. But in the next second she pushed his hand 
across her shoulder close to her neck. She gave him 
only a moment to enjoy her smooth skin beneath his 
finger before he hand cupped her firm, supple breast.

As if an electric current had jolted through them they 
leapt away from each other, stumbling backward but 
never breaking their locked gazes. A long silent moment 
passed before Simon breathed, "That's it, isn't it? 
Could you feel it?"

"Taking control of me," she finished, "Yes! You?"

"I think so," he said, "Yes."

"Then this is it? This is what we're supposed to do?"

Of course we're not supposed to," he said, "That's why 
the grown-ups won't tell us about it. They don't want 
us to know so we won't do it."

"But we know now," she reasoned, "We discovered it, so 
we have the right to do it. Like you said, we're half 
grown-ups ourselves, and our bodies are telling us to 
do it, so why not?"

He smiled in understanding.

She continued, "We're alone? No one knows about this 
place?" 

"Just me. And you of course."

"All right then."

And then her sundress was in a ball at her feet and was 
stepping out of it, at the same time flinging away her 
underskirt, which was picked up by an unusually long 
swell from the cove. 

"Oh!" she cried and chased the retreating water, naked 
as the day she was born. When she caught up to the 
soaked undergarment she was waist deep in the cove. She 
squeezed the water out of it and started to wade back 
to shore, but Simon was suddenly standing before her, 
his shirt once again gone along with his trousers; he 
stood only in gray shorts. He looked at her with 
examining eyes, taking in every lush new sight her body 
had to offer. 

There was a rock rising a few inches out of the water 
just to her left, and she tossed her underskirt onto it 
rather than take it all the way back to the sand. She 
cocked her head slightly and the tips of her long hair 
touched the waters' surface. 

 "Well? What now?" She couldn't help but notice a rise 
beneath his shorts. Mother had only once pointed out 
such a phenomenon, and had sternly told her to avoid it 
at all costs. 

"If a fellow ever approaches you, and you see that 
underneath his trousers," Mother had warned, "You 
scream and you run. Do you understand?" 

But Mariana had no desire to scream and run now. Quite 
the opposite; she felt drawn towards Simon at the 
sight, and took a watery step forward. Simon's eyes 
drifted down to watch Mariana's waist gliding toward 
him across the water. He moved to meet her and somehow 
automatically his arms slid around her. His shorts, a 
moment before giving him confidence to enter the water, 
now seemed horribly restraining. He reached down and 
pushed them off his waist so they sank, waterlogged, 
around his ankles. He stepped out of them and let the 
undertow carry them away. 

Now their bodies pressed against each other. Simon's 
heart hammered in his chest as Mariana's breasts 
touched his chest. He wanted to feel her again, and 
cupped both her breasts, one in each hand. She took a 
sharp breath as if surprised, but didn't try to stop 
him. As his hands drifted up her chest, over her 
shoulders, and along all the curves of her back and 
hips, he felt his erection throb. 

His dad had told him only briefly what an erection was, 
but in strictly scientific terms of blood pressure and 
such, and had added that it was something no one should 
ever see. But he wanted Mariana to see it. He wanted 
Mariana to touch it. He wanted to touch Mariana with 
it. Something told him that was what it was for.

Just as his touching her had awakened something more in 
him, so had it in her. She pressed tightly against him 
and moaned a little. It was time to do what their 
bodies were telling them to do. But they couldn't in 
the water. A rock, wide and flat like a table, sat just 
out of the water several yards out. He took her hands 
and led her toward it. She understood and they swam out 
to the rock.

When they had pulled themselves up Simon looked back to 
the shore. They had come a long way out into the cove, 
longer than he had perceived. They were also much 
closer to the fantastic crashing at the mouth of the 
cove than he had thought they would be. This seemed a 
perfect place to do what they were going to do. It was 
far from the grown-ups and their rules, and close to 
the wild freedom held in the booming of the waves on 
the great rocks. So they lay down on their low island, 
he above her, and wondered how to begin.

"Do you have the feeling?" he asked.

She found she couldn't speak, and nodded faintly. 

"Where is it for you?"

She slid a hand between her legs and touched where the 
feeling was most intense.

He understood. Everything matched now. He pulled her 
hand away from the place and lay down on her in just 
the right position. Then he did the only thing left to 
do, followed the feeling and the instinct. Yes, there 
was instinct now. No matter how frequent or fervent the 
grown-ups cautions and warnings were, instinct couldn't 
be unlearned or erased any more than the waves at the 
cove mouth could roll the rocks that stood against 
them. 

Simon and Mariana lapsed into a strange dance, pushing 
and pulling against and away from each other, but 
always remaining connected. Suddenly she let out a cry 
and clutched her abdomen. 

"Is it supposed to hurt?"

"I don't know. Did I hurt you?"

"Yes. But it felt like it was supposed to happen. The 
feeling is deeper in me now, and it feels better than 
before."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No."

And she let her head fall back against the rock and 
closed her eyes, and the dance began again. It went on 
for a long time. The feeling seemed to get more and 
more intense for Simon, and though they didn't speak he 
could tell it was the same for Mariana; she began to 
moan and her movements were more heated than before. 
Suddenly he reached a kind of climactic cliff and leapt 
over it; he knew he couldn't stop even if he had wanted 
to, and he didn't want to. 

Everything happened faster and harder and the world 
spun then disappeared. When sensation came back he 
heard Mariana crying out again, but in pleasure rather 
than pain. Whatever was supposed to happen had 
happened, and bit by bit the feeling was fading with 
the setting sun.

Simon and Mariana stood on the sand, gazing across the 
cove, golden and pink and red reflecting the sunset. 
Their clothes were wet and sandy, and Simon was 
particularly uncomfortable without his shorts. He 
looked at Mariana and thought about kissing her, but 
kissing was mostly for grown-ups. Maybe he would kiss 
her next time. After all, they were half grown-ups, so 
kissing might not be all that strange. He didn't know. 
They were both too tired to think about it.

She asked wearily, "Should we tell our parents?"

"No," he answered, "I don't think they'd like it."

"Should we tell anyone then?"

"No. No one."

They listened to the sounds of the water.

He asked, "Did you like it?"

"It was amazing," she breathed, "It was what the 
feeling wanted us to do."

"Because the feeling's gone now."

"Yes. For now."

But a new feeling had taken its place. They shared a 
connection now that had not existed before. It was 
stronger, more than simple friendship. More like love.

"Should we be getting back?"

"No," he said, "Wait until we dry off. Besides, the 
sunset is nice tonight, especially here."

"Yes," she said, pressing closer against his side and 
taking his hand, "This is a beautiful place." 

They stood together watching the colors shift and dance 
on the water, and listening to the sound of the waves 
crashing against the rocks.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 51