Bashful Melanie

Michael's sister's friend (Melanie) has always been horribly shy--until Michael asks her to a dance. The invitation magically triggers Melanie's lustful side!

Part One

I am Michael Newberry. My sister Corina and I are twins. She is eight minutes older than I am and has always relished calling me her “little brother” because she was the first one out of Mom’s womb that spring day in 1965. Once when I applied for a summer job, I was asked if I had anyone who could vouch for my character. I quickly said I had an older sister. I’m sure the fellow conducting the interview figured she had to be at least a year older. Only after I was already hired and had been working for him for a month did he learn that Corina and I had the same birthday.

Beginning in the second grade, Corina’s best friend was Melanie Clark, who lived half a block from our house in suburban Canada. She was the same age as Corina and I were. Melanie, without a doubt, was the shyest girl I’d ever encountered in my life. Dad once joked that Melanie would be reluctant to call for help if she were drowning or if her hair had caught on fire. Melanie was so reserved that I think Dad’s assessment may not have been too much of an exaggeration.

I suspect Melanie’s shyness came from the fact that she had come from a family where the father was abusive. He was long gone, leaving her mother and his two children one day abruptly and never returning. I suspect living in such a situation had long-term and irreversible effects on someone like Melanie. I wouldn’t know for certain, though. I was luckily born into a family with two loving parents who were the real-life equivalents of Ward and June Cleaver from Leave It to Beaver.

Despite being twins, Corina and I strangely were never assigned to the same classroom. There were always at least two classes per age group at my elementary school—and Corina and I were never in the same one—not even once. Years later, I learned that my parents had suggested to our school’s principal that we be separated so the we could each be judged individually by the teacher and not as the sibling of the other. We were both glad not to be compared. My sister was an is an excellent artist and musician. I had no such talents, but I excelled in academic subjects. Corina was basically a B-level student in those endeavors.

Against all odds, Melanie was always in Corina’s class, and never once in mine. That’s how they became friends. Somehow Corina—and Corina alone—broke through Melanie’s shell and they became almost inseparable. Melanie became a fixture at our house as Corina’s primary playmate. All three of us enjoyed playing board games together. Even then, Corina was exceptionally quiet. One day when we three were about 11 years old and we were playing the board game Life, I was told by one of the cards that I was getting married. I casually remarked that I hope my wife was the shy, quiet type—just like Melanie. Melanie promptly gave me the sweetest smile I had ever seen. I responded by honestly saying, “Hey, I could do a lot worse than marrying my sister’s best friend. You’re a very nice girl, Melanie—as far as girls go.”

The tail end of that statement was typical for me at the time. I was a late bloomer when it came to appreciating the opposite sex. I was all boy, enjoying sports and anything competitive. Girls, to me, generally were a hindrance. However, when I turned 12, I began to notice they had certain charms and undeniable biological appeal. I was quietly smitten by classmate Ashley McKinney who was a stunningly pretty brunette, but I lacked the courage to even start a conversation with her. I stayed girlfriendless into the eighth grade.

I celebrated my 14th birthday in April 1979. The major annual school event for every eighth-grade pupil at my middle school was a dance which was held a week prior to the graduation ceremony. It wasn’t officially mandatory, but it was expected that everyone who was scheduled to graduate would attend. It was further expected that students would arrive in couples. I assumed I would be an outlier and would attend the dance alone. I wasn’t really looking forward to the experience as I was not a social butterfly.

I had no idea that Melanie was in the same boat as I was. Her shyness had prevented her from getting to know any boys, despite the fact that she was, in my opinion, better than an average-looking female. About ten days before the dance, Melanie’s mother, who had become a friend of my mother, got involved. She phoned Mom, informed her than Melanie had no date for the school dance, and strongly hinted that I should ask her. About two seconds after Mom hung up the phone, she summoned me and said, “Michael, I know you have no date for the school dance. Mrs. Clark tells me Melanie has no date either. Why don’t you ask her to go with you and solve two problems at once?”

I paused for a second. My initial thought was to resent my mother and someone else’s mother deciding to get involved in my personal life, but the more I thought about it, the more it was an appealing option. “Yeah, okay,” I finally replied. “I’ve always liked Melanie—and she is a bit of a cutie.” I picked up the phone and gave her a call. I had to ask my mother what the Clark household’s number was because I had never once telephoned anyone who lived there.

My asking Melanie for a date was a first for me with any girl, but I just stated my business calmly when she picked up the phone. “Melanie, this is Michael. I don’t have a date for the big school dance. I understand you don’t, either,” I told her. “So why don’t we go to the dance together?”

I got a positive reply immediately. “Yes, I ‘d love to go to the dance with you, Michael,” she responded, which was good for my ego. Then she added, “I’m coming right over to your house. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

I didn’t really understand why Melanie needed to see me personally so quickly. I assumed she was already planning to visit Corina. I was wrong about that. She was solely coming to the house to see me.

I glanced out the window and saw Melanie almost sprinting from her house to mine. She was still at full gallop as she ascended the three stairs to my front door. I opened it for her so she didn’t need to knock. To my utter amazement, Melanie Clark, the shyest girl I’d ever known, jumped into my arms and gave me a long, terrific and thoroughly wonderful kiss on the lips. My mother was nearly as startled by this unexpected show of affection as I was.

“Hello, Melanie,” my mother deadpanned. “What brings you here?”

Melanie continued with her smooch for a few more seconds before she said, “I’m here to see my wonderful dance date, Mrs. Newberry. I’ve had a crush on him for years. I was just too shy to say or do anything about it!”

This was a revelation to me—and a very welcome one, indeed! Melanie was a great kisser, and I wanted to continue that activity. I kept her wrapped in my welcoming arms and elevated off the floor to do just that.
Corina entered the kitchen shortly, saw her best friend and me kissing passionately, and commented. “Well, I suspected this would happen someday.”

I was too busy kissing Melanie to reply, but my mother said, “You did, Corina?”

“Oh, yeah,” my sister responded. “Melanie told me she really liked Michael as early as the third grade. I knew once she got the courage to do something about it, it would lead to this sort of thing.”

Mom explained that I, with some prodding from her, had asked Melanie to be my date for the school dance.

“Small difference,” Corina insisted. “Once Michael opened the door to any sort of relationship with Melanie, I knew she would respond this way. She’s been waiting five years to burst out of her shell.”

All the while, Melanie and I remained oblivious to anything else but each other. My arms were getting tired from supporting her, so Melanie and I moved our romantic endeavor to the living room. There she positioned herself on my lap in an armchair and continued to kiss me as if the world was coming to an end. For us, it was actually just beginning!

My mother had seen enough and said, “Okay, you two, break it up. We get the general idea that you like each other. I don’t want to have to douse you with a bucket of cold water.”

Melanie finally got around to explaining that she had come to my house to extend an invitation. She and her mother wanted me to come to dinner at her house that evening. I quickly accepted after which Melanie sprinted back home.

“Thanks for the idea about my inviting Melanie to the dance, Mom. I think it worked out very well,” I said with a smile.

Part Two

I had never set foot in the Clark house until that dinner invitation came. I thoroughly enjoyed my meat loaf meal with Mealnie and her mother. Mrs. Clark explained that Melanie was a very good cook—something I did not know—and she, by herself, had prepared most of the meal that we were happily consuming. “A potential wife should always be a capable cook,” Mrs. Clark stated without subtlety. I realized in the matter of a just a few hours that I had gone from having no romantic interest in my life whatsoever to having a very passionate girlfriend who was being promoted by her mother as a future fiancée. How life can dramatically change in the course of just a single day!

“Duly noted!” I said in reply with a cheeky smile.

When we finished, I offered to assist with the dishes. Mrs. Clark accepted my offer as she wanted to visit my mother to discuss something—undoubtedly it was something about me. “When you two are done the dishes,” she suggested as she opened the door to leave, “Melanie should put on the dress she had bought for the dance. I think it looks quite fetching on her.”

Mrs. Clark didn’t wait for a reply. She opened the door and swiftly headed toward my house. “I have a better idea,” Melanie stated to me.

I suspected what Melanie’s idea might entail, so we washed and dried the dinner dishes in record time. “What would you rather do, Michael: see my new dress or have a quick fuck?”

“That’s a tough choice!” I said, “but I’ll choose the latter,” I said. Then I realized that Melanie didn’t know what I meant.

“Latter means the last option you gave me,” I clarified. “I want to have a fuck, of course.”

Melanie apologized for her ignorance. “I forgot my new boyfriend is a top student,” she noted, “but I’ll get used to it in a hurry.”

Melanie led me by the hand to the living room. She drew the curtains so that no passerby could possibly see anything that we might be doing.

“Michael, you can get undressed and sit on that chair! That’s where I want to have our first fuck together. I’ll ride your dick. You know something, Michael? I’ve always dreamt it would take place there—and so it will.”

I happily obliged, but then I said, “Melanie, we don’t know how soon your mother might return. Aren’t you afraid of getting caught in the act by her?”

“No, and it doesn’t matter anyway,” Melanie informed me. “It was she who suggested we have sex. She’s very liberal-minded about human sexuality. I guess she started very young. She has no major reason to visit your house right now. She just wanted us to have time alone.”

“I really like your mother, Melanie! She’s a true gem!” I said as I disrobed. Just the thought of my first sexual encounter had made my penis as stiff as a steel girder.

I sat down on a padded green armchair with my dick pointing toward the heavens. I gave it a few yanks to get it as hard as possible—and to show off my equipment to Melanie.

“Very nice, Michael!” she commented. “I’ve seen your penis once before, though.”

That was certainly news to me. “When was that?” I asked. I certainly had no recollection of have having my pants down at any time when Melanie was visiting Corina.

Melanie giggled before telling me the circumstances. “One day when I was about nine years old, I was at your house. You were in the upstairs washroom urinating. You thought you had fully closed the door, but as I walked by, it was partially open and I couldn’t help but peek at you. You were standing at the toilet taking a wiz. Wasn’t that naughty of me?”

“Yes, you were a naughty girl, Melanie…and now you will be punished!” I joked. “Let me see what you look like without any clothes on. I have a hunch you’ll look marvelous to me.”

She did! Malanie had a lovely pair of round breasts—better than average in size for a 14-year-old girl. She had a bushy vagina, but that didn’t faze me in the slightest. Melanie promptly positioned herself on my lap so she could explore my phallus, giving it tugs with both hands, and caressing my testicles. After perhaps 30 seconds of studying it, she lifted herself off my lap for a moment and then descended upon my shaft. The feeling I had when it penetrated her pussy was truly fabulous. We had another long, sensuous kiss. I broke it off only so I could suck on her sexy nipples.

Her breasts were supple objects that were endlessly fascinating to a sexual newbie as I was that day. “I just love your lovely tits, Melanie!” I said rather crudely.

She took no offense at my remark. Instead, she replied, “I was really hoping they’d please you, Michael! I hope my pussy does, too!”

At this point Melanie began to bounce up and down on my manhood. I put my hands on her waist to assist her in riding me. I was experiencing sensory overload and I knew I couldn’t last much longer. I was about to ask Melanie If I should pull out of her, but I didn’t get the opportunity. Although I couldn’t see my handiwork, I unleashed a doozy of a load inside her. I felt better than anytime I had ever jacked off to one of the dozen Penthouse centerfolds I had hidden well in my bedroom closet. I let out a long “Aah!” as did the sexy girl impaled on my stiff rod.

“I can’t believe you are the same Melanie Clark who was famous for her shyness. Are you really that same girl?” I asked facetiously.

“Yes, I’m the same girl! By the way, that was excellent, Michael,” Melanie told me. “We both came at about the same time!” (That was news to me!) “That means we are very sexually compatible. That a very important quality for lovers to share.”

“I suppose it is,” I said. I really didn’t think about it. I was too overjoyed by my first fuck to think about anything else—even something vaguely connected to it.

We got dressed and Melanie did show me the organdie dress she had bought. It was a beautiful garment, but I told her, “I hope you aren’t wearing it for very long on the night of the dance. I’m a lousy dancer, but apparently a good fucker. Melanie, honey, when everyone else is dancing, let’s you and I find somewhere private in the school to have another screw!”

Part Three

Sure enough, on the night of the big dance, Melanie and I made a token appearance—and then we snuck off together to another, distant part of the building. Melanie had already done some advance scouting and had discovered that the door to the home economics rooms had not been properly locked. We stealthily moved inside, found a padded chair, disrobed in a corner of the room, and had a repeat of our sexual encounter at Melanie’s house. This time, I made a point of pleasuring her thoroughly with my tongue before entering her vagina. I truly liked the taste of her pussy. It wasn’t as off-putting as I had been led to believe by other eighth-grade boys who were allegedly experienced in such things. Melanie gave me a blowjob in return. It felt magnificent, but I cut it short when I felt I was going to come far too fast. Melanie rode me as she had done in her living room and I responded exactly the same way, with another sizeable load of goo.

The only person who noticed we had abandoned the dance was Corina. She became aware of our absence when she looked across the school gym and couldn’t see us anywhere. She eventually figured we had gone somewhere in the building to be alone together. Corina became curious enough to look for us. We had just stepped out of the home economics room when Corina spotted us.

“How are you two enjoying the big dance?” Corina asked us sarcastically.

“The dance is fine, I suppose,” I responded, “but they weren’t playing enough slow songs. We wanted something that was a little more romantic.”

“I guess what we did could be called dancing if the definition is broadly interpreted,” joked Melanie. “We moved rhythmically and gyrated our hips. I think it helped get Michael out of his shell. He’s always been such a shy boy!”