Set to graduate from high school in just two weeks, he sat, looking out the window of his third-floor apartment that he shared with his mother. His mind was in a contemplative mood as he stared at the slum that had been constructed some twenty years ago from the old three-story walkups that had been there for close to a hundred years. The red brick 12-story structures had been beautiful at first - before the lack of maintenance and tenant abuse - but now were just another slum with broken windows, graffiti on the walls, the stench of backed up sanitary drains and just plain filth all about.
Stan Dietz sat contemplating the streets below him where it was not yet dark and the drug dealers and prostitutes had come out of the buildings and peddled their wares. Occasionally, a police patrol car passed and in response to some unknown warning system, the vice suddenly disappeared from the streets only to reappear as the patrol car passed. Stan was familiar with the street; he had grown up right there!
Below him, he noted a small crowd of tenants waiting and was sure from, long experience, that the elevators to the upper floors were no functioning again. Being a warm spring evening, the tenants chose to wait for the elevators rather than climb the twelve floors to their apartment. “They may have a long wait,” he thought to himself.
As he sat contemplating, Stan began to feel a now familiar feeling in his groin. It wasn’t the result of some overt stimulation. His hands were at his sides and there were no desirable women evident; yet, he felt his arousal growing. Then, lacking any more understanding he sat enjoying the feeling.
Stan was the kind of young man that was neither big, nor small, at five feet eleven inches, 170 pounds he was certainly well proportioned. He was neither brilliant or stupid and had maintained a 3.3 grade point average in school where most of the students seemed satisfied with a 2.0. He had gone out to play football and basketball is school but was only mediocre in sports. . . When he lettered in football the coach had awarded the letter for his effort and perfect attendance at practice.
Stan was always well dressed, neat, clean and his personal hygiene was above reproach but his crooked teeth detracted somewhat from his appearance and, had his family been able to afford it, braces would have rendered those teeth straight.
He sat quietly now, contemplating the erotic sensations that emanated from his groin. In a few minutes, he would have to stand and turn on the light and the sensation would leave him but for now it was pleasant.
A minor disturbance below caught his attention and as he sought the cause, he saw three drunken classmates pawing another classmate, Stella Aspig. Stan knew Stella lived up on the twelfth floor and was waiting for the elevator - and that’s about all he knew! She was seldom seen on the street and Stan only knew her as a fellow classmate.
As he observed, Stan realized that Stella was unprepared to resist the three maulers and would soon be overwhelmed. He moved to the window and called down, “Stella, Get the heck up here before your dad starts shooting. Be quick about it!” The result was Stella bounding up the stairs and her assaulters disappearing into the crowd.
As Stella reached the third floor, Stan was there to meet her and to offer assistance. He said, “I saw them pawing you and that was the best plan I could come up with. Does your father really have a gun?”
She smiled as she reported, “I don’t even have a father!” As she spoke, Stan felt the return of that erotic sensation he had felt a few minutes ago and moved to hide the growing bulge in his trousers. He fought the sensation. . .
Then came a discussion of the elevators and Stella was concerned that she would have no time to study her Calculus before the test tomorrow. Stan, knowing her problem, led her to his dining table where the Calculus homework was all laid out.
There at the table, Stan’s boner stood proud under his trousers and Stan fought to keep it concealed. “This shouldn’t be happening. I hardly know this girl!” he thought and he moved to study her for the first time.
He noted that Stella was a rather tall, lean, girl with brown hair framing a ruddy complection. She was no beauty in the conventional sense but something about her . . .a feeling or sensation perhaps! . . . held his interest.
As she studied, Stan made his dinner as his ardor cooled. It was a late dinner and he was famished as he placed the giant burrito in th microwave; then, realizing that Stella hadn’t eaten either got a second burrito and heated it. Later, together, they enjoyed their burritos and milk.
It was nearly 2200 hours when the familiar hum of the elevators sounded and people began to get to their apartment. With only a hurried “Thank You”, Stella left him at the first sound of the elevators. It was as she’d departed that Stan felt something like a loss. . .something vague but real and he knew that Stella was the cause.
A little later, in the bathroom, Stan remembered Stella as he relieved his anxieties.
When Stella left Stan’s room and boarded an elevator. She felt relief. In a minute she would be home among familiar surroundings and safe. Then, as the elevator deposited her at the twelfth floor she rushed to her apartment door and hurried inside where she turned, bolted the door and felt a rush of relief from the tensions of the night. She went directly to her bedroom and began to prepare for the night.
As she removed clothing, she deposited each article on a hanger and placed it in her closet. Then, after donning a dressing gown went to the bathroom where she fought the other tenants in the building for luke warm water to clean herself. It was a familiar routine. . .one she was comfortable with.
It was as she showered that she thought of the events of the evening - of the three attackers and of her fear ; then, her response to Stan’s threat. It had been a masterpiece of fabrication and it had saved her from three guys who were intent on doing her harm.
As she dried herself and primped she thought of Stan for the first time. She’d know Stan for several years but they had been distant acquaintances, having spoken to each other once or twice at most. Then, tonight he had saved her. “Why had he saved her when people right on the spot showed no interest?” They obviously meant nothing to each other.
It was as she climbed into bed that she recalled seeing the bulge in Stan’s groin and his obvious attempts to hide it. She felt a sense of pleasure as she recalled that she was probably the cause of his arousal.
Still, Stan had made no move on her. He had been a perfect gentleman during her visit and this was not what she might have expected. There were very few Gentlemen in her community. Then, as she recalled the events of the evening, she felt her own labia moisten and her nipples grow sensitive. . .
Stella had been comfortable with Stan. She had sensed that he could be trusted even as her more overt actions moved to protect her from danger. Now, here in her bed, she could allow her thoughts and emotions the freedom she desired.
So it was as she drifted off to sleep.
Her sleep was peaceful and sound.
Monday morning was just another day as Stan and Stella met in the hallway at school and passed without speaking. It was the same familiar pattern but each felt a sense of loss as the parted. Their meeting of the previous evening had left them bonded in a way that they could not conceive; yet, drawn together by an invisible bond that occasioned their feeling of loss as they passed.
Then, at home in their respective apartments, they studied and prepared their dinner as usual. . .or was it! Stan thought of the girl up on the twelfth floor and missed her closeness of the previous evening. Stella thought of the guy on the third floor that she had enjoyed the previous night.
As Stella thought of Stan, she recalled his arousal and his obvious attempts to hide it that previous evening and felt pride in knowing she had the power to cause it. These were new thoughts to her - powerful thoughts that she enjoyed!
It was on impulse that she picked up the telephone and dialed 8307. When Stan answered, she spoke swiftly,”Stan, you made dinner for me last night so I owe you a dinner. Come up to my place and have dinner tonight.” It was an offer he couldn’t resist. “Say seven thirty or so,” she said having glanced at the clock.
The dinner was simple - a deli bisque that need only be heated served with toast. Stella had allowed herself two hours to shower and prepare. As she rushed through her ablutions, she wondered to herself, “Why am I going to such lengths? Why am I so excited?” It was as she bushed her hair to sparkling, shining perfection before placing it up in an attractive pony tail that she burst out laughing. . .here she was getting all excited about a guy who wouldn’t even speak to her as they passed in a hallway.
Promptly at seven thirty, Stan arrived with two ice cream cups to add to the meal and they sat down to eat. At first, they ate in silence; then, in a new sensation of mutual trust the dam broke and their innermost thoughts began to spew out.
Stan found himself talking about things he’d never muttered out loud before. . .his innermost thoughts! He talked about girls and about his interest an his social inabilities. He talked about his future after graduation.
Stella was equally communicative and found herself referring to herself as probably the last remaining virgin in their senior class. She’d just never found anyone that she’d wanted to do it with yet. She wanted to go to the university and get an education that would be her pass out of the slums.
It was after eleven when Stan went back to his apartment. There he quickly undressed, did his evening ablutions and went to bed but even as he did so several things weighed heavily on his mind. Stella had obviously prepared herself for his visit in so many seemingly covert ways and it was obvious she was interested in him. His pride in knowing she was trying to impress brought him pleasure. For the first time, he thought of Stella consciously as a sex object. . .a woman to be wooed and won!
“Of course,” he mused, “she was simply unattainable.” She would remain a pleasant sex object in his dreams.
Meanwhile, up on the twelfth floor, Stella was deep in her own thoughts as she tried to sort out her various thoughts, emotions, feelings, etc. She had indeed toyed with Stan and found her power to control and direct him was intense. Several times during the course of the evening she had suggested that he do something and he’s moved immediately to please her. Several times, she’d caught sight of his adoring glances which were obviously meant to be covert but altogether obvious.
Still, she reasoned, Stan was a nice guy and she’d never do anything to hurt him. He was probably the nicest person she’d ever known.
Suddenly a thought popped into her mind. What would he be in bed? With the thought a tremor of lust swept over her. Could he take her virginity and make her a woman like the lover she’d always dreamed about? Confused, she hurried to erase these thoughts from her mind. She was, after all, a proper girl and proper girls didn’t have such thoughts. . .
Later, in bed, Stella again thought of Stan as a lover and there in the safety of her bed, she entertained the thought. She had no desire to remain a virgin and had often pondered giving herself to a man but always before the man had been without shape or form. Now, there was Stan.
It was on that note that she slept soundly.
It was the afternoon after the evening when Stella had her thoughts when she stood by Stan’s locker at the close of the school day, waiting! When Stan appeared in the hall, approaching his locker, Stella arranged an accidental meeting and with the meeting a conversation. As they talked, Stan retrieved his homework from his locker and they walked towards home together.
As they walked Stan was aware of Stella’s nervous manner and soon noted that she had something on her mind. Somehow, she had become his friend, his only friend, and he wanted to help. Much as Stan tried to redirect their conversation, Stella would discuss only superficial matters and that cause of her nervous condition lay deep in her mind.
Then, once at their building, they found the elevators to be down for servicing and Stan welcomed the opportunity to ask Stella to join him in his apartment where they could study until the elevator was back in service. Stella accepted the offer with more exuberance than Stan had expected and he determined to be the good host.
With their homework laid out on the dining table, Stan arose to make hot chocolate for his guest and himself. As he moved he was also keenly observing his guest and was now pretty sure that she was holding something within herself that he hadn’t seen before. . .something of which Stan had no inkling. What ever her thoughts were it troubled Stan to see his friend stressed with concern. Then, as he served the coffee, he said, “I’ve noted that something’s troubling you. Can I help?”
With the words, Stan noted Stella’s near panic as she prepared a response. The reaction was quite unexpected and Stan regretted momentarily that he’d brought up the subject. Stella delayed her answer as she collected her thoughts; then, responded.
“Are you a virgin?” she asked.
Now it was Stan’s turn to respond to the surprise. “Yes. I guess I am.”
“Do you ever think about doing it?” she asked.
“Yeh, sometimes,” came the reply.
“Me too,” Stella replied, “We’re probably the last two virgins in our high school class.”
Stan was slow to respond, “Yeh! I’d guess you’re right.”
“Do you ever think of doing it with me?, she asked, “I sometimes think of you when I’m alone at night.”
Stan was slow to respond as he agreed that he thought of her often when he masturbated.
After the admissions, both Stan and Stella grew silent and concentrated on their homework. Neither could accompish much as their thoughts were on the conversation.
Stan looked up from his work intending to ask Stella where they would go from there when he saw her staring at him. “We could celebrate our graduation with a present to each other . . .one that we’d always remember. . .it needn’t be a real love affair . . . only a one night stand!”
As Stella continued to babble now, Stan moved towards her and kissed her on the lips. It was an awkward kiss, but it’s insinuations were locked in it. Of course, being the first kiss for both of them it lacked passion.
Stella stood and turned to face Stan as she spoke, “Perhaps we should practice some fundamentals first. There’s got to be more to a kiss than that.” With this realization their faces met again in a kiss and this time they experimented until they found the key to passion.
Then, as they petted and got familiar as boy and girl friend, they made plans. Graduation night both their mothers would be home and they would be denied privacy but the next night, Stella’s mother would be on her regular jaunt to Nevada where she worked ten days at the oldest profession before returning home. Stan’s mother would be partying on this Friday night and she never returned home until late on the weekend.
After reiterating their desire to go the deed together they began to plan. A few kisses her and a deep soul kiss there; then some discussion. It wasn’t particularly efficient but it was fun.
After some discussion, it was agreed that Stan would pick Stella up on Friday morning and they’d spend the day together getting to know each other better. Then, in the late afternoon, they’d return to Stella’s apartment and make dinner together before their party.
Then, with less than a week to prepare, the couple parted and Stella found the elevator repaired, waiting to take her to the twelfth floor. It was a week filled with graduation, yearbook signings, and plans. . . Stella held little interest in graduation, even as she was valedictorian and had a prominent place in the ceremony.
She was about to become a woman in the finest sense of the word and she wanted it to be right. She, the unknowing, faced the unknown! Could she please her lover or would she forever be a ‘cold fish”? Could Stan hold up his end and please her? She must prepare . . .
With just enough money in the family operating budget to support her, she searched diligently in the discount stores for the proper lingerie. She bought candles and, in case Stan forgot, she purchased a 4-pack of condoms.
It was as she stood before the condom display that a number of thoughts came to mind. Should she buy the cheaper latex type or the more expensive lamb skin? Should she buy an individual or a four-pack? There was so much she didn’t know. . .
Stan too, prepared. He had gone to the condom display with similar questions and finally decided that price was probably the best indication and on the possibility that Stella might allow him a second event, he purchased the lubricated, lambskin four-pack. He shined his shoes. . .shoes he’d worn only a half-dozen times!
Graduation ceremonies came and went. Stella gave her speech and stood to receive her several scholarship awards as Stan sat in the class area and felt pride in her accomplishments. After the ceremonies, there was a time as doting mothers came to congratulate their graduates. Stella’s mother showed about as much love as an aging prostitute could give to her daughter and they were happy. Stan’s mother, on the other hand, had to work and could not attend the ceremonies.
Later, Stan joined Stella and her mother for a late dinner at a local Chinese place where Stella’s mother met Stan for the first time. It was a rather cold, formal meeting and Stan wondered if she sensed what he and her daughter were about to do. Perhaps this was the reason he had the impression that she didn’t approve of him. Then, again, it could have been something else. . .
On their return home, Stella parted with Stan on the elevator with a simple “goodnight” as her mother stood watching.
As Stan entered his apartment he felt a surge of wild excitement. Tomorrow was the big day. He set out his newly shined shoes and wardrobe for the morning and went to ed in a state of euphoria. He slept little as he anticipated the coming day. . .