Jenny is Most Tiresome

Now that Jenny and I were a little bit older and had taken the big step of moving in together, you'd have thought things would be at least a bit easier for me. Some hope!

We were shopping in the supermarket one afternoon. The sunlight slanting down upon the soft fruits section was bringing out the smell from Jenny's tiny smattering of freckles on her nose. Tipping back her boater she stooped slightly to survey the strawberries. Her legs in sheer black stockings were predictably awesome, and the knicker-length grey pleated skirt she was wearing showed off just how much.

She caught me staring at her, and smiled. "I've not changed that much, have I?" she asked me cheesily. "I'm still always teasing you."

"It's not teasing to wait," I told her, because impossible as it was to explain I felt quite kindly disposed to her just then. "We're both waiting, and no-one would accuse a boy like me of doing it that to tease. People just view girls differently, and that's unfair."

"It is," Jenny agreed. "But I mean teasing like the way I did when we played one-on-one today," she added dispassionately.

I blushed at the very memory, and Jenny saw.

"One of these days, I promise, we'll try a different sport," she went on.

"Oh, I didn't feel like I was being teased when you did that!" was the best fib I could manage, complete with unconvincing easy laugh.

Jenny made her choice. "Get some thick cream," she ordered me, but I thought I saw a tiny smile on her face as she issued the instruction.

"Um, if you like teasing so much," I resumed as we proceeded through the car park, me carrying both bags, "I guess there are all sorts of ways to do it. Like keeping the boys guessing - all but me that is!"

That in fact was probably why I was generally in a better humour with Jenny these days! For although the rhythmic flicks of her tiny skirt were so compelling I could hardly keep my eyes from those fullest of hips, at least she no longer drove me up the wall with the secret those little grey pleats hid. It was nice that we'd started to share more than we used to.

Jenny said: "There are so many girls who wear these skirts that I'm sure one day you're going to go off me!"

I blushed again and laughed. "Now you really are teasing!" I declared.

"Could you really resist?" inquired Jenny, pressing. "You know most of them have got bigger boobs than mine."

I fidgeted, not wanting her to know how this question made me feel.

"I look at them in their summer tops and I bet you just groan," said Jenny in an innocent voice.

She was such a pain when she decided to be like this. I was waiting because it meant something to both of us, but it wasn't easy for me, and nor was it fun to be reminded of that. Jenny meanwhile, skimming lightly through the sunshine with her shimmery stockings on, looked like even heat like this wouldn't have made her thirsty.

"You always smell so clean, Jenny," I told her. "Even when it's hot. No wonder you don't want us to get smelly together!"

Jenny gave a light laugh, blushing a little beneath her tiny freckles. I knew full well that wasn't the sort of expression she'd ever have used!

"When we consummate our relationship in an appropriate manner," she replied, sure enough, "you're going to have to get used to me smelling and weighing a lot more than you think."

This sort of thing was why I loved her. We held hands and walked out of the car park, our little tiff as good as forgotten.

THE END