Sunday I watched Alice skate again. Skating competitively was a lot of repetitious practice. But I was infatuated and wanted to watch all I could. Alice wanted me to learn to skate so we could compete in the pairs categories together, but it was a silly idea. The best bit about Alice’s practices though was that she would listen to her walkman on the way to and from the rink. She never brought the walkman to school, it was too valuable. But Alice needed the walkman when she trained so she could hear the music she was dancing and skating to. And so, on the way to and from the rink, she would hold the headphones between us so we could both listen to her mix tapes. We were almost touching. Sometimes we brushed together. It was almost open affection in public and my heart raced.

On Monday I asked Alice if she wanted to go play pool after school. So we finally went back to my house where she’d left the change of clothes. She went into my bedroom to change. It was the first time she’d properly been in my house —and the first time she’d been in my bedroom— and she went in and shut the door with the bang. I had washed everything; washing was one of my chores now I lived with dad and I had put Alice’s clothes through with the rest so they were nice and fresh and clean. In fact I’d generally tidied the whole house and kept it clean, expecting Alice to see it some time soon. It wasn’t nearly as modern as Alice’s nor as fresh, but at least it could be clean.

I’d already slipped the gift-wrapped thong into the bag too. I stood outside the door waiting to see what happened.
I heard a squeal from inside my bedroom. The door banged open and Alice flew out and hugged me. It took me a moment or two to take in what she was wearing. She was wearing a nice clean thin rusty red wooly jumper and ... nothing else! Alice had jumped into my arms and wrapped her strong slender legs around me. My hands were holding her up, one hand on each arse cheek. I was in heaven. I was in shock. I asked her what she was wearing.

“My new thong, silly!” was her answer.

I moved my hands around a bit more as we kissed and, sure enough, there were the flimsy thin straps of the thong. She wasn’t completely naked. The part of me that was getting braver asked, “if I buy you underwear, will you wear it?”

She replied, “yes!” and covered my face in small pecking kisses.

I continued. “And if I don’t buy you any underwear, will you wear any?”

She just giggled and pushed away from my chest and said, “Slow down, I’m not that kind of girl!”

She was setting limits and I was taking notes. Alice hopped down and went back in to finish changing. I realised how little attention I had paid to the feel of her cheeks, the tautness, the sexiness. I had been too busy looking for fabric to soak in the feeling.

I forget who won pool. Alice wore the clothes home; there was nothing to hide from Anita any more. That evening, as I masturbated, I tried to remember the feel of her wriggly bottom but it was just a blur of indistinct memories.

School was going better. There was no repercussions from the fight. Roy and the boys kept well away from us. The Posse accepted that Alice and I were an item and let us be. Alice and I were gently getting closer. As autumn dragged on we were on cloud nine, young, infatuated, first love.

One thing that was not racing along though was the sex part. Alice was extremely reluctant. She was a keen kisser and we discovered tongues. She was a keen cuddler, and we discovered that she could hold herself to me while I stood using just her long strong skating legs wrapped around my waist. But I never got my hands inside her clothes, never got to touch her breasts, never got to get closer than a thin wooly jumper away from the forbidden fruit that beckoned me. As proud as she was to display her legs, her best assets, she was equally embarrassed by her chest, and her clothes stayed resolutely on. She sometimes whispered enticingly that she was wearing ‘the thong’, but I never saw nor touched her lovely arse cheeks again.

My balls were permanently blue. We’d cuddle and wriggle on the bed, our hands roaming each others backs, and each time she felt my erection pressing into her for too long she’d giggle and push me away, accusing me accurately of just thinking about one thing.

Then one day after school she brought me back to hers because she wanted some help with some ‘research’. She was all coy and giggly when she asked me. We didn’t normally go to hers. We’d been going to mine after school regularly, and kissed and cuddled on my bed before dad got home, but never to hers.

She let me in and led me through to the kitchen for a glass of water. Then, looking more refreshed and courageous, she led me upstairs to her room.

The room was unchanged from our first kiss. She bent down and opened the bottom draw. She took out a girly magazine. Not that kind of girly magazine; I mean the kind of magazine that teenage girls subscribe to. It contained the normal tame relationship advice that young girls who read Mills and Boon and Jane Austen want to read.

Alice opened it on a bookmark. She was always very organised, even this kind of ‘research’. It was an article describing how to estimate the length of the male organ from other body measurements. There was even a little outline of a man with labeled lengths and formula you could plug measurements into. The diagram of the man was missing any actual genitalia.

Alice fished out tape measure and asked if she could measure me. I told her it would cost her a kiss. I wasn’t quite sure what she was going to measure exactly, but I was very excited. I figured this could be the first step towards some physical intimacy.

Alice measured my forearm. She wrote the number on the diagram. Then she kissed me. Only she didn’t kiss my lips, she kissed my forearm. Then she tried to measure my upper arm, but my school shirt was kind of in the way. So I took it off, bearing my chest. She measured my upper arm, wrote down the number and then kissed my shoulder. Then she measured around my chest, wrote it down, kissed me on the chest, and so on. She took all kinds of measurements. Distance from ear to shoulder, then a peck on the neck. Distance from arm to waist, then a kiss. She started to tug my trousers. I was extremely hard and we had trouble getting my jeans down because my y-fronts were tented.

She measured the length of foot, and kissed it; the length of my lower leg, and a kiss. She was working her way up towards my middle.

I was terribly excited. She measured and kissed my inner thigh. I was laying, almost naked, on her bed, and she was leaning all over me taking measurements and placing light pecking kisses.

I looked at her diagram. It was obvious most of these measurements were not required, that she was making this up.

She got to my groin. My penis was so hard I could feel a draft where the material was pushed away from my legs making a gap she could surely see through.

And then she poked it. She prodded my penis. It swayed and she laughed.

She stood up. She told me I could put my clothes back on now. She thanked me for assisting her with her research. I asked her if she wanted to measure my dick. I was so excited, so hopeful, I really wanted to display myself for her. I wanted her to measure it, and then kiss it!

She laughed like it was the funniest joke in the world. She pointed out that that was the one thing she didn’t need to measure, she could extrapolate its size from the length of my forearm and feet! She got up and threw my jeans at me and told me to get dressed before her mum came home.

But we did kiss extra passionately after that. I felt a lot closer to her, even if we hadn’t yet shown each other everything. She had kissed my inner thigh; she had prodded my willy!

I asked her how big she thought I was, and she did some sums but wouldn’t tell me. She started teasing me that boys were so insecure about that and that we should strive to be loved even if we were small. I felt a bit belittled; I didn’t think I was that small, but I actually had no idea first how big I was and second what was normal. I expect Alice’s magazine had all the details.