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Miss Higgins

an adult short story

from the Warming Stories collections


Lindsay Debout

Copyright 2018 Lindsay Debout

This edition published by Smashwords

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

If you paid for the book, it may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy.

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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story, and the characters within it are pure fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Missy stuffed her uniform in her bag, blew a kiss at the poster of George Clooney on the wall and hurtled out of her bedroom. “Off to work, Mum!” The front door barely got out of the way in time.

It was a fine afternoon but a glance at her watch showed she didn’t have time to walk to work. If the bus was late, so would she be. It’s a rubbish job with rubbish pay, but I can’t afford to lose it, ran through her mind as her body ran to the stop. Mum can’t afford for me to lose it.

Final exams were getting ever closer, so once on the bus she pulled out a textbook and did some more revision. I am not going to flip burgers forever. I’m going to pass these exams if it kills me.

Another sprint got her to work just as the big clock flicked to the hour. Practice had her signed in, changed and at the front counter in under a minute. “Hi, Jessie,” she panted.

“Hello, dear,” said the manageress. “Welcome back to Heaven.”

The next few hours blurred by. It was a mind-numbing job, but it kept you fit. There was no time to stand around, let alone sit down. If there were no customers waiting, there were chores to be done.

For Missy, the hardest part of the job was having to be nice to the customers. Some of them deserved a good slapping on general principles. Too many men – usually the younger ones, but not always – treated her as a free offer from the menu. Few scored highly on Missy’s ten-point Clooney scale. Every now and then an eight or nine came in, but he was always accompanied by a woman and assorted kids. Attached and unattainable – just like George.

In a quieter moment, Jessie took her to one side. “We have a new boy starting tomorrow. Would you keep an eye on him for me? He’s had all the training but it’s not like doing it for real.”

Missy sighed. “Yeah, sure. What’s his name?”

“Roscoe. He seems a nice kid but a little too shy, you know? I think he’s a touch frightened of girls. Go easy on him, okay?”

Missy chuckled. “Why, you think I’m going to eat him? Don’t worry, I’ll play nice.”

Back home again, Missy dropped her bag and slumped onto her bed. The piles of textbooks on the floor prodded her conscience, but she was too tired to move. She stared at the poster of George instead. You wouldn’t make me flip burgers for a living. You wouldn’t force me to spend all my spare time studying. You’d pay for me to go to college and do it properly.

She thought back to the day’s customers. One or two had climbed above five on her Clooney scale. None had reached the heights of eight. They didn’t come close. You’re handsome, polite, kind, gentle, considerate, suave, sophisticated, decent, honourable… You’d treat me properly.

I bet you’re a good lover as well. Butterflies woke up in her stomach. And lower down. The old, familiar glow of arousal started making itself felt. She flipped up her skirt and slid a hand down into her underwear. You’d know what a woman wants. How she wants to be treated. What to do to her. How to make her feel like this…

She twisted on the bed as the climax gripped her body. After a few seconds it ebbed away, leaving her drained. And melancholy. She met George’s perfect gaze again. Most of all, you’re not real. Well, you are, but not in my world. I’ll never meet you. I’ll never meet anyone remotely like you.

She undressed and slid under the duvet. Tonight she didn’t blow a goodnight kiss to George as usual. I don’t suppose even you are like you. The man in the poster is a teenager’s fantasy.

Time I grew up.


“Hi, Jessie.”

“Hello, dear. Missy, this is Roscoe. Roscoe, Missy here will lend you a hand if you need it. She’s the best worker in the place.”

Perked up by the unexpected compliment, Missy shook hands with the new boy. Not very tall, are you? Taller than me, I suppose. Nerdy-looking as well. I’ll give you a four.

The boy radiated nervousness. Half-turned away from her, he couldn’t look her in the eye and he let go of her hand as soon as he could. With a shy nod to Jessie, he hurried off to the store room.

Missy pursed her lips. “I see what you mean. Is he like that with everyone, or just girls?”

“Pretty much everyone. He keeps away from the boys and backs away from the girls.”

Missy only half-heard. There was something about Rascal – Roscoe – that seemed familiar. Mentally she wound him back a few years. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

“Oh, sheeeit!” she gasped, hand over mouth and face reddening as embarrassment flooded her.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“I know him! We went to school together!”

“That’s nice.” The woman took a second look. “Did he do something bad to you?”

Missy hoped for a meteorite strike to put her out of her misery. “Worse. I did something bad to him! Just thinking about it…” Even her ears burned with embarrassment.

“Ah, one of those things. Well, you’ll just have to suck it up, dear. We’ve got customers waiting.”

The shift went downhill from there. Missy dropped an order of burgers on the floor. She got groped when she took the replacements out to the customers at their table. Worst of all, guilt and shame burned through her every time she spotted Roscoe. It wasn’t helped by the fact he kept trying to avoid her. He obviously remembered her as well, and not fondly.

The end of her shift crawled closer. Half an hour and I can escape. It was the only thing that stopped Missy sticking her head in the fryer. She noticed Roscoe coming out of the storeroom. He noticed her at the same moment and dodged back inside the room. After a few seconds he peered around the door at her.

Her heart sank even lower. I was so awful to him. I know he was hopeless but was I any better?

Missy went over to the storeroom. By the time she reached the door, Roscoe was backed against the far shelves. She felt about an inch tall.

“Listen, Roscoe, I want to say… I’m so sorry. What happened… the things I said… I’m sorry I was such a cow about it. I didn’t know any better. I do now. Can you forgive me?”

He stared at her in amazement. Obviously an apology was the last thing he was expecting. Slowly he straightened up. “Uh, yeah. Sure. So you don’t think I was… I mean… you think I did okay?”

“No, you were crap.” She smiled to take the edge off it. “But I was just as bad. Either way, it’s no excuse for the awful things I said afterwards. That was worse than anything you did or didn’t do.”

Reluctantly he smiled as well. Missy’s mood crept up. “Come on, let’s get back to work. And let’s stop avoiding each other, okay?”

Halfway to the front counter, a thought struck her and she turned back to him. “I don’t remember your name being Roscoe.”

He blushed. “That’s my middle name. I started using it after I left school. My first name is…” he swallowed and went even more pink. “Horace. After my great-granddad.”

“Ah, right. Now I remember.” And I think I have problems. “Roscoe it is.”

Without having to fret about Roscoe so much, the rest of Missy’s shift went better. She signed off without having slapped any of her customers or colleagues.

When she made it out into the fresh air at last, she spotted Roscoe in the distance and hurried after him. “Roscoe! Wait up.”

He turned, recognised her and flinched. A shiver of shame rippled through her. “Are you getting the bus?” she asked, trying to be light and casual.

“Er- no. I only live a few miles away so it’s quicker to walk.”

“All right, I’ll walk you home.”

He stared down at her – not very far down, but still down.. “You can’t do that! You live in the other direction, don’t you? How will you get home? You can’t walk through town at night on your own!”

“I’ll get the bus back here and then my regular bus home.”

He shook his head. “You can’t do that. If you want to walk, I’ll walk you home.”

That’s the sort of thing George would say. It’s a start. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

They walked in awkward silence. Missy glanced at Roscoe out the corner of her eyes. He was staring at the ground a few inches in front, shoulders hunched. Almost cowering. Expecting trouble. He might as well have, ‘Get your next victim here!’ floating over his head in flashing lights.

Missy tried to spark a conversation. “So, Roscoe, have you had many girlfriends?”

His expression melted back into its default setting of embarrassment and shame. “Uh, no.”

Silence. After another few minutes, she glanced at him again. If he carries on that way, we’re both going to regret it. “Don’t walk like that – you’re asking for trouble. If you’re out alone at night, you need to look confident. Stand up straight, shoulders back, look ahead. Look around as if you’re interested in what’s going on, but don’t catch anyone’s eye.”

“It’s all right for you,” he mumbled. “You don’t mind going out on your own at night.”

Missy snorted. “I hate going out on my own at night, but you can’t afford to let the people around you know you’re nervous. You have to look confident, look as if you know where you’re going and can take care of yourself.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not going to get beaten up.”

Her mouth tightened. “Easy for you to say. You’re not going to get raped.”

He straightened up, but the next silence was more strained. Eventually Roscoe broke it. “What about you? How many boyfriends have you had?”

Missy snorted again. “None.”

“It wasn’t me, was it?” He sounded anxious. “I didn’t put you off?”

She stared up at him. “No! Don’t flatter yourself.” Mentally she kicked herself. No point being nasty for the sake of it. “Sorry. Let’s just say I haven’t met anyone I like yet.”

A lip twitched. “Anyone who scores high on your Clooney scale, you mean?”

She flushed. “How did you know about that?”

It was his turn to snort. “Everyone at work knows about it. It was the first thing they told me about you. What’s so special about George Clooney, anyway?”

Missy sighed. “He’s kind, gentle, considerate, polite, courteous-“

“Everything I’m not, you mean,” Roscoe muttered. “I did try. You know, at the prom. You were the first girl I’d ever asked out. How was I supposed to know what to do? I had to guess.”

She shivered at the memory. “Well, you guessed wrong. Just because a girl agrees to go on a date with you, doesn’t mean she’s agreeing to anything else.”

The weather was mild, but the atmosphere was frosty. “You kissed me first!”

“You can cut that out for a start! ” snapped Missy. “I gave you a good-night kiss. That’s all it was. It wasn’t an invitation to a groping.”

He hung his head again. “Sorry. I thought… I mean, the boys said…”

All the anger and resentment came flooding back. “If what the boys think matters to you so much, why not go kiss them instead?” It was the perfect moment for Missy to turn on her heel and stomp off home. Unfortunately ‘home’ was in the direction they were already going.

“How was I supposed to know?” That was almost a wail.

“You could have asked first!”

He laughed scornfully, shocking her. “Yeah, right. What was I supposed to say? ‘Do you want to come to the dance, and how much fooling around do you want afterwards?’ I’m not that stupid. What were you expecting, anyway? If you go out with a boy, don’t you expect stuff to happen?”

Furiously she grabbed his arm and swung him around. “No! If I agree to go out with you, that’s all I’m agreeing to. I’m not agreeing to have your babies!”

They glared at each other. They turned and walked on.

“I’m sorry I got it wrong,” said Roscoe. But if you didn’t want it to happen, why did you let me…?”

Missy stopped scowling and sighed. “Because I guessed something might happen. I didn’t want it to, I hoped it wouldn’t, but once it did I thought I might as well go along with it. Better that, than…” She shrugged.

He looked sick. “I didn’t know you felt like that. If I had, I’d never have… you know.”

At least the next silence was thoughtful rather than angry.

“What I don’t understand is, if you didn’t want to do anything, why did you… um… try to grab… um… me?”

Both their faces heated. “I thought that’s what I was supposed to do,” muttered Missy.

“Well, yeah… but… I thought… it would be better.”

Outrage flared. “You were lucky to get what you did! How was I supposed to know what to do, anyway? They don’t teach it at school! And you were bloody worse!”

Roscoe reeled back as if she’d slapped him. She rolled her eyes. “All right, I’m sorry. Let’s just say we were both crap, all right? You made mistakes, I made mistakes.” Looking around, she realised they were nearly at her home. Thank Goodness!

At her front door, Missy turned to him. “We’re going to be working together so let’s call a truce, okay? What’s done is done. Let’s pretend we’ve only just met.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” Forcing a smile, he held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Roscoe Brown.”

Missy smiled back and pushed his hand away. “I’m Missy Higgins, and I’m going to give you a goodnight kiss, okay? Nothing more!” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. He flinched, then tried to poke his tongue down her throat. She recoiled. “You’re not diving for clams! Just kiss, all right? Touch lips, not tonsils.”

Just as she stood back, the door opened and her mother appeared. “I’m glad you’re home, dear. Your supper’s on the table and I’m off for my shift. Who’s this charming young man?”

Missy swallowed a smirk as Roscoe blushed and stirred the ground with his toe. “This is Roscoe. He’s just started work today and he offered to walk me home.”

“That’s kind of him, but how’s he going to get home himself?”

“I’ll be fine!” said Roscoe hastily, but Mrs Higgins ignored him. “I’ll give you a lift but we’ll have to get a move on.” She kissed Missy on the cheek. “See you in the morning, dear. Roscoe, come with me.” She grabbed his arm and hustled him to the gate.

Missy watched them go, then turned and went into the house.

In bed at last, she stared at George while her mind idled. That was the worst day I’ve ever had at work. Although it didn’t end too badly, I guess. At least we’re back on speaking terms.

She flipped up her nightdress and performed her usual night-time relaxation ritual. As the afterglow faded and drowsiness took over, she caught George’s gaze again. I suppose you weren’t always suave and sophisticated. I suppose even you were an awkward kid once. Not anymore. You’ve learned better since then.

Eyes closing, a final thought drifted past. Which means someone had to teach you.


“Good afternoon, Mr Brown!” Missy dropped a perfect curtesy.

Startled, Roscoe hesitated, then bowed. “Good afternoon, Miss Higgins!”

Missy picked up the pile of paper napkins and stacked them in the holders on the counter. “I see Mum got you home safely last night. What did you talk about?”

“Nothing. Well, your Mum talked but I didn’t. I’m no good at small talk. I never know what to say.”

“You could ask her what she does for a living, where she likes to go on holiday, what she did last weekend, what the weather’s been like, what the weather’s going to be like, what she’ll be doing next weekend because of the weather, where she gets her clothes, what television programs she likes, whether she watches television at all…” She realised that Roscoe was gaping at her.

He swallowed. “How do you come up with all those things? I can never think of anything!”

“You decide before you start! All those things I said – they fit pretty much everyone, so make a list and memorise it. If you can’t think of anything else, ask them about themselves. What you don’t do is leave an awkward silence. Give them a reason to fill it.”

“Riiiiight!” He looked as if she’d given him some great revelation.

She studied him. “What are you doing this weekend?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much. Chores. Helping Mum & Dad with their chores. What about you?”

“Chores. Helping Mum with her chores. Revision. I’ve got exams in the Summer.”

“And right now you’ve got customers waiting, dear.” Jessie’s voice came from behind Missy’s shoulder. “You’ll have to chat on your own time.”

Missy tucked her phone into the pocket of her uniform and went back inside. Roscoe was just finishing his break. “Would you like to come around my place this Saturday?” she asked.

He stared at her in surprise. “Why?”

She felt like banging her head against the nearest wall. Or Roscoe’s nose. “A girl’s inviting you around to her house and you’re asking dumb questions? To hang out, that’s why! Is that okay? Or do I need to draw up a minute-by-minute timetable for your approval first?”

He stared at his toes instead. “Sorry. Yeah, that would be nice. Will your Mum be there?”

“Not all the time. She has to do the shopping and run some errands.” She insisted. I think she’s thrilled I’ve finally shown an interest in a real person. And you passed her preliminary inspection.


Missy examined her room. It was a lot cleaner and tidier than it had been, but there was still barely enough space for her, let alone a guest. Still, it would have to do.

She considered the poster of George. This isn’t make-believe. This is the real world. As she rolled up the poster, her Mum knocked on the open door.

She held out a small box. “This is for you. I wasn’t sure whether you still had the ones I bought you for your eighteenth.”

Missy gaped and blushed. “Mum! I’m not intending to jump into bed with Roscoe!” She took the box of condoms reluctantly. “I’ve only just met him!”

Her mother smiled grimly. “There’s no point taking chances, especially when you can protect yourself so easily. If it isn’t Roscoe, sooner or later it’ll be some other lucky boy.”

Missy couldn’t look her Mum in the face. “I thought you wanted me to wait until I was married?”

“I want you to wait until you’re ready. So long as you’re enjoying yourself safely, that’s all that matters to me. Being married just makes it simpler, that’s all. That side of it, anyway.”

She looked out of the window and into the past. Missy went up to her and gave her a hug. If you loved someone the way her Mum loved her Dad, there’s no such thing as an amicable divorce. No-one comes out of it without a shedload of pain and bad memories.

Her Mum shook herself back to the present. “I have to go before the shops get too busy. You have a good time, dear. I’ll be back no earlier than 3 pm. Until then, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do – which is why I bought you the condoms.”

“Mum!” A knock on the front door derailed Missy’s embarrassment. Her Mum led the way down the stairs and opened the front door.

Roscoe was standing on the doorstep, looking like a rabbit caught in headlights. Missy sighed. He could at least say hello!

“Roscoe! Nice to see you again. Do come in,” said her Mum, bustling past him. As she turned to usher him in and shut the door she winked at Missy, then was gone.

They stared at each other in silence. Missy made up her mind. “You could at least have said hello! And stop looking scared of your own shadow. Tell you what.” She took Roscoe’s arm, opened the front door and pushed him out of it. “Knock on the door and when I open it, smile and say, ‘Hello, how are you? You’re looking nice.’ Something like that. Something that says you’re pleased to be here and pleased to see me.” She shut the door on his shell-shocked expression.

After twenty minutes, Missy decided he was as good at making an entrance as he was going to get. “Okay, you’re in. Come upstairs.” She led the way to her room. As soon as he came into the tiny space, she pushed him out again. “Good Grief, what on Earth have you got on? It’s far too strong. Aftershave is fine, but you only need a hint – not a sledgehammer. Go take a shower and wash it off. Shake your clothes out as well. Right now I could smell you three streets away.”

He didn’t move. She got a towel out of the airing cupboard, pushed it into his hands and pointed to the door of the bathroom. “There! Go!”

Fifteen minutes later Roscoe reappeared. Missy pulled him into her room and sniffed. “Much better. You don’t need heavy scent – just a faint waft. Seems like you should put that stuff on before you have a shower. Now, let’s get the kissing sorted out.”

He goggled at her. Missy sighed and prised the towel out of his hands. “Mouth slightly open, your lips pressing gently against hers. If the kiss last more than a second or two, arms around her – not too tight. No tongues to start with. If she keeps the kiss going, touch her lips with your tongue. If she’s okay with that, explore inside her mouth a little. When in doubt, let her lead. Got all that?”

It was obvious he wasn’t going to move, so Missy went up to him and kissed him. After a couple of seconds, she leaned back. “Arms, remember?” She kissed him again.

At last he took the hint and put his arms around her awkwardly. Without breaking the kiss she moved his arms into a better position and put her own arms around him.

As the kiss went on, he pressed his mouth harder against hers. His tongue invaded her mouth. One hand went down to her bum and gripped it hard. He pressed his hips against her – she could feel a hard bulge in the front of his jeans digging into her. The hand squeezing her bum moved up to the waistband of her jeans and tried to force its way down inside. She pushed at him but he was too strong. Finally she kicked him viciously on the ankle. He flinched back and let her go.

She shoved him angrily in the chest. “If she wants you to stop, you stop! Whatever it is you’re doing. However far you’ve got, it doesn’t automatically mean she wants you to go any further!”

Roscoe hung his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You don’t know what it’s like. It takes over.”

Missy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right, but you’re going to have to learn to deal with it. If word gets out that you can’t be trusted, no girl will risk going out with you. If you get a reputation for being safe, that’ll get out as well. Which would you prefer? Now, let’s try again. Remember, you go as far as I say. Understood?”


A month’s worth of shared shifts meant a month’s worth of walks home, a month’s worth of small talk with Missy’s mother and a month’s worth of goodnight kisses. Missy didn’t let Roscoe back into the house, partly so he didn’t take her for granted but mostly because she had revision to do.

She was wiping down the counter in a lull between customers when Jessie came up alongside her. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing to that boy, but he’s a lot less shy than he used to be.”

They turned to watch Roscoe working at the hotplates. Missy smiled. “Nothing much. Mostly I’ve been teaching him what not to do with girls.”

Jessie sighed. “I wish you’d been around to teach some of my boyfriends that.” She nudged Missy. “Has he graduated yet?”

Missy blushed. “No! He’s not the one studying for an exam!” He must have felt her gaze because he looked up, smiled and nodded at her. She nodded back. Although maybe it’s time we both took the next class. She went into the staff toilet.

Ten minutes later, she spotted Roscoe going into the stock room. There were no customers at that moment and no-one else paying attention, so she stood in the doorway and waited.

He turned with a box in his arms, and jumped. “Sorry! Didn’t expect to see anyone there.”

Missy checked again to make sure no-one was watching. “I assume you’d like to come around to my place tomorrow?” she said quietly

He swallowed, looking like a six-year old being promised a visit to Santa. “Sure thing!”

“All right.” She reached out and tucked something into his jacket pocket. “Study that when you get home tonight. When you do, don’t get any funny ideas. This is just prep for the next lesson. And you still have to pass the Mum test before you get inside the house.”


When Roscoe knocked the next morning, Missy watched critically from the stairs while her Mum went to open the door. “Good morning, Roscoe.”

“Good morning, Mrs Higgins.” He held out a single rose. “I thought you might like this.”

“Why thank you, dear! That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll just go and put it in a vase.” She turned and went back to the kitchen, giving Missy a wink as she passed.

Missy nodded her approval. “Good one! Get the mother on your side and you’ve got an ally for life. Okay, I’ll let you come in.”

Her mother went past again, heading for the front door. “I’m off. I’ll be back sometime after three. You two have fun!” She winked at Missy again, making her blush.

Embarrassing parent out of the way, Missy pressed her nose against Roscoe’s neck and sniffed deeply. “Very nice. Just enough cologne to be noticeable.”

She ushered him into her room. “Did you bring the homework I gave you yesterday?”

Roscoe produced a bra. “You mean this? What was I supposed to do with it?”

“Not make a mess on it, for a start.” She took it from him and examined it carefully. “Okay, it’s still clean so you don’t lose any marks. I wanted you to see how it fastens. Most men have trouble undoing a woman’s bra. Did you try it?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Good, but it’s easy to do when you’re holding it in your hands. It’s a lot harder when there’s a woman inside it. The cups and straps are a snug fit and there’s plenty of skin you must not pinch!

Keeping a firm grip on her embarrassment, Missy turned her back on Roscoe, pulled her T shirt over her head and threw it onto the bed. She didn’t need to see his expression – she heard him gasp. “Now try undoing the one I’m wearing. And don’t get any funny ideas – that’s all you’re doing.”

After several minutes fumbling, a lot of muttered swearing and a good deal of pain on Missy’s part, the clasp finally parted. “Thank Goodness for that. While I do it up again, you go into the bathroom and cut your nails. If you’re going to do any fooling around with a girl, you keep them clean, short and smooth. There are plenty of places a girl will not want you putting a ragged fingernail. You won’t get a second chance.”

It took an hour, but finally Roscoe could undo Missy’s bra in a few seconds and one-handed. Either hand. Whether she was facing away or towards him. Facing towards him was best. It felt rather nice to be snuggled against him while he undressed her. For purely educational reasons, of course.

“Okay, that’s good enough. Now, do you remember the prom?”

Roscoe grimaced. “I’ve never forgotten it. What you said. The way you and the other girls looked at me afterwards. The way you all sniggered and whispered whenever you saw me. I’ve been scared of girls ever since.”

For Missy, right at that moment, it stopped being an intellectual exercise. Without meaning to, without even realising it, she’d blighted Roscoe’s life for years. The things she’d said, the things she did – it hadn’t been just her doing it. She’d been representing all girls, and she’d screwed up.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. But it cuts both ways, you know? You helped to put me off boys. You made it pretty obvious you were only after one thing and you didn’t care how you got it. Why do you think I had a crush on George Clooney? He wouldn’t hurt or frighten me.”

She slumped onto the bed. “At the Prom I was scared the whole time. I didn’t know what you wanted or what everyone expected. I assumed you’d want something, but how far should I go? If I let you go too far then I’m a slut and a whore. If I don’t let you get anywhere at all then I’m frigid. If I don’t give you what you want, you might take it anyway. It’s no fun being a girl.”

He sat alongside and gingerly put an arm around her waist. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you… I didn’t know you felt that way! I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I didn’t know what you expected. How was I supposed to know? Boys aren’t born knowing what girls want!”

He looked ready to burst into tears. She hugged him. “I get that now. I finally realised that film star George isn’t the same George as the one who went on his first date. He had to learn to be film star George, and he needed someone to teach him. That’s what I’ve been trying to do for you. Not to turn you into George Clooney the star, because you’ll never be him. To turn you into Roscoe the nice guy, a guy any girl would love to date.”

Roscoe studied her for a few moments, then leaned in and kissed her. Not for practice. Just because he wanted to.

Missy returned the kiss. Not for practice. Just because she wanted to.

After a while, she leaned back. The atmosphere had changed, become more intimate. “Do you know why I wanted you to learn how to undo a bra? Look at this.” She sat up straight and put her shoulders back. She tried not to giggle at Roscoe’s expression. “If a bra fits properly, there’s no room inside it. Remember the prom? You tried to stuff your very large, very rough hand with its very sharp nails into a bra already full of something soft and very sensitive. And then you squeezed like it was a bottle of barbecue sauce. Now do you understand why I lost my temper?”

He smiled ruefully, blushing. “Sorry. What’s the right way?”

“For a start, make sure your hands are clean so you don’t get her clothes dirty. Be gentle. Run your hands over them but don’t press too hard. Be gentle. Brush her nipples. Be gentle. Squeeze them gently. If she’s okay with that, put your hand inside her top and do it all again over her bra. Be gentle. Only if she’s still okay with that – don’t try to second-guess her – only then do you undo her bra and explore inside it. When in doubt, be gentle!

Roscoe tried to look nonchalant. “Is there a practical exam?”

She smiled back. “Maybe, but not yet.” She stopped smiling. “I’ve got some studying of my own to do first. I know I wasn’t any better than you were. I hurt you as well, didn’t I? Physically, I mean.”

He winced at the memory. “You sure did.”

“All right then.” Missy stood up and pulled Roscoe to his feet. “We were stood like this. You were busy trying to tear off one of my boobs.” She looked down at the very visible bulge in the front of his jeans. “I was trying to- well, I wasn’t sure what I was trying to do. I guess I was trying to get you out so I could do something. How the Hell was I supposed to do that without hurting you?”

She pulled down his zip, reached inside and grabbed the first thing that came to hand. Roscoe jumped and pushed her hand away. “Ow! Careful! Don’t ever squeeze a man’s balls unless you’re trying to put him off!”

Missy giggled. “Sorry!” She reached in again and ran her fingers gently over the bulge stretching his underpants, trying to work out what was inside. At one point Roscoe sighed. “Was that nice?” she asked. “What was I touching?”

“The head. That’s the sensitive bit.”

After a few more seconds, Missy gave up. “I know men pee standing up, but how on Earth do you get it out without stripping off or major surgery?”

He chuckled. “If it gets caught in the zip, it feels like major surgery. Without anaesthetic. You really want me to show you how men’s underpants work?” Missy nodded so he undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles. His T shirt hung in the way so he pulled it off over his head and dropped it onto the bed.

Missy suddenly realised that for all these weeks, his work uniform had been covering a body to die for. He might look like a nerd but his body was fit in every possible sense. School’s looking up!

Lightbulb moment. Missy spotted the hem around a gap in the layers of fabric. Gently she reached inside and with only a little prising and wriggling, persuaded Roscoe’s very erect penis to poke out of the hole. Oh, wow! My first real, live cock! “What do I do now? Just squeeze it?” She wrapped her hand around the bulge at the end and squeezed it gently.

Roscoe winced. “That feels good, but your skin’s too dry and rough on the head - the sensitive bit. If I was circumcised it might not be so sensitive. Try rubbing the foreskin over the end and back again.” He yelped. “Not so hard! You’re not trying to unblock a sink!”

Missy let go hurriedly. “Show me what I should be doing.” She watched where Roscoe took hold of himself and how his hand moved. “Okay, now let me try.” She held him in the same place and moved her hand the same way.

Roscoe sighed. “That’s good. Squeeze harder. Harder. Ulp!” He began to shudder. Missy felt his penis swell in her hand and start to throb. Liquid shot out of the end in pulses.

Missy watched the whole process with fascination. Finally the pulses stopped and Roscoe’s erection slowly shrank, leaving her with a hand covered in goo. “You’d better pass me that box of tissues. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom while I mop up in here. It’s all over the carpet!”

Ten minutes later, Roscoe was back, fully dressed. Missy had finished wiping up the fallout and had put on a blouse – not her best one. “Okay, we’ve studied the theory. Now let’s rerun the prom, only this time we should know what we’re doing.”

Roscoe smiled slowly, went up to her and put his arms around her waist. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” he murmured.

Missy smiled back. “Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed her back so she put her arms around his neck. Tonsils weren’t touched but tongues definitely were.

After a couple of minutes, Missy felt a hand slide up the front of her blouse and over a breast. It explored her gently. It squeezed her gently. It brushed her nipple gently. Her nipple stiffened. Her breathing deepened.

Leaning back, she reached down and unzipped Roscoe’s jeans. There was still a bulge inside but it wasn’t as bulky and hard as it had been earlier. Now she knew what she was doing, Missy was able to find the gap in the fabric easily and reach inside. She recognised the shape of Roscoe’s penis and carefully, gently manoeuvred it out into the open. Standing in front of him she couldn’t stroke it properly, but she could move her hand over it. She kissed him again. He sighed against her mouth.

His busy hand started to unbutton Missy’s blouse. It stopped. He broke their kiss and murmured, “May I?”

Missy smiled wider. “Gold star for asking.” She pulled him back into the kiss.

Blouse buttons are just smaller versions of shirt buttons, so it didn’t take Roscoe long to have the top of Missy’s blouse open. His hand slid inside it and over her bra. She couldn’t stop a sigh escaping from the lips pressed to his.

After another few minutes, Missy was glowing inside like some Christmas decoration. She felt his other hand slip up the back of her blouse. Deftly he undid the clasp of her bra. Ten out of ten! The hand moving over her breasts slipped down, then back up underneath the cups. He was now caressing her bare skin. His erection twitched in her hand. She felt like twitching herself.

She ran out of breath, and broke their kiss. Their heads rested on each other’s shoulders. It was just as well they were alone in the house - a small part of Missy’s mind listened in embarrassment to the sighs and gasps echoing around the room. The unguarded hooks on her bra clasp scraped her, so she pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse off over her head and threw it onto the bed, followed by her bra.

Roscoe’s hands moved over her breasts. Arousal fizzed in her blood. Roscoe’s erection leaked his excitement. She squeezed him. He moaned. “Can I… can I do the same to you?” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do, but I want to do something!

“I’ll guide you.” Missy fumbled at her own jeans with her free hand. After a short struggle she pushed them down to her feet and kicked them aside. She was left wearing only her sensible cotton knickers. “Slide your hand down inside. Gently! It’s all very delicate and sensitive down there.”

For the first time in her life, a hand not her own slid into her underwear. It was trembling almost as much as she was. Roscoe gasped. “You haven’t shaved! I though all women did.”

“A lot don’t and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t make any stupid remarks.”

Are you kidding? It’s every boy’s dream to touch a girl down there! You think I’m going to spoil my chances?”

Missy giggled, then gulped as his fingers moved on down. “Gentle! Just explore. Don’t try to get inside unless the girl tells you to. If she’s a virgin, you might hurt her badly. And don’t expect anything more unless she offers it!”

“You feel so wonderful!” whispered Roscoe. “What do I do to make it feel good for you?”

Another gold star for asking! “Bring your fingers forward again. Ah! Just there. Feel that bump? That’s my clitoris. Now stroke it very, very gently. Some girls find it too sensitive to rub directly. Try side to side, then up and down over the head, then alongside it. Ulp! Carry on like that, but just a little harder. Oh yes! Keep doing that and don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

Missy squealed as a mighty climax shook her, stronger than any she had ever given herself. She convulsed in Roscoe’s arms, burying her face in his shoulder. The pleasure seemed to explode out from his fingers all the way to her scalp and the soles of her feet. Every spasm turned her inside out.

Ages passed before she had control of her body again. She straightened up unsteadily, still short of breath. “That was. The most. Wonderful. Experience. Of my life.”

Roscoe looked proud enough to burst. “Thank you! It was having such a good teacher that did it.”

Missy felt a frisson of pride as well. “Thank you! Now it’s your turn. Oh-oh!”

Roscoe had also enjoyed Missy’s climax. Far too much. Her belly was spattered with his cum and it was trickling down toward its goal. Quickly Roscoe snatched a handful of tissues from the box and headed off the advance guard.

“I’d better go wash it off,” said Missy. “Now is not the time to start a family!”

Half an hour later, they were sat side-by-side in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“Thank you so much,” said Roscoe. “That was the prom rewritten with a happy ending.”

“Same for me.” They clinked mugs.

Roscoe nudged Missy slyly. “Now we’ve got our degrees, when do we start the postgrad work?”

She elbowed him back. “Don’t push your luck!” She sobered. “We’ll see. Don’t forget to keep practising what you’ve learned so far!”

“I never knew homework could be so much fun. If I had, I wouldn’t have dropped out of college!”


Missy and her boss watched Roscoe clearing the tables and gossiping with the customers.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a totally different boy from the shy kid who started here a couple of months ago,” said Jessie. “You seem to have worked some sort of magic on him.”

Missy felt smug. I have, haven’t I?

“And I don’t think I’m the only one who sees the difference. Have you noticed we get a lot more eat-in customers these days? Mostly young girls, too.”

Missy thought back over the last few weeks, and frowned. Jessie’s right, we have had more eat-ins. And there’s been a lot more giggling and whispering as well. She studied Roscoe more closely, trying to see him as others did. Dammit, he’s a hunk! Cheerful, charming, great looking…

Thank… Goodness it’s Friday. I’d better start planning that postgrad course.

As soon as her break began, she phoned her Mum. Mum was not pleased. “Not again, dear! I don’t mind giving you privacy once in a while, but it does eat into the day. I like to have my weekends off as well, you know. If you want to have sex with Roscoe, just invite him to stay the night.

Missy went beetroot red. “Mum!”

What’s the matter, dear? I don’t know what you’ve been doing up to now, but I don’t suppose it has much to do with your evening classes. You’re a grown woman and entitled to do what you like. If it’s a choice between forcing you to do it in some back alley or letting you use your own bedroom, I know which I’d prefer. Just don’t make a mess and don’t disturb the neighbours.

Missy’s face could have toasted burger buns, but she could see the sense in what her mother was saying. “All right.” She took a deep breath. “Can I have Roscoe over to stay for the weekend?”

“‘Course you can, dear. Do you need me to get you more condoms when I go shopping?

Missy didn’t know which would be more embarrassing – admitting that she hadn’t needed any condoms up to now, or that she had. “No, thank you. I… have enough to be going on with.”

Her shift was finally over. The last half-hour had been spent screwing up her courage to ask Roscoe to spend the weekend with her. There wasn’t going to be any doubt about what was going to happen – what she wanted to happen. This was going to be the Big It for both of them.

Roscoe was already out in the car park, chatting to someone in a car. As Missy’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see the car was a convertible with its roof down. An expensive convertible as well, so far as Missy could remember from the magazine adverts she’d seen.

Her face fell and her lips tightened when she realised that the driver was a young woman. Daddy’s poor little rich girl. The proverbial spoiled brat.

Jessie came up alongside her, straightening the collar of her coat. “I’ve seen that car around here a few times this week. Another member of Roscoe’s fan club I guess.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a member of her fan club,” growled Missy. She took a deep breath to call out to Roscoe. Held it when he opened the car door and got in. Held it when he spotted her and waved cheerfully. Held it while the car roared out of the carpark and onto the main road, disappearing into the darkness.

She let it out slowly. “That wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Wasn’t it? I thought you were trying to smooth off his rough edges and polish him up?”

“Well, yeah, but… I thought… I assumed I’d be the one getting the benefit!” She stared mournfully into the night.

“Well I think you should be pleased. You turned a wreck into a confident and well-adjusted young man. I’d say that’s something to be proud of.”

Missy pulled a face. “You make me sound like Dr Frankenstein!”

Jessie patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “Wrong story. Not Frankenstein. Pygmalion.”

Missy wasn’t listening. It’s not fair! I put in all that hard work, teaching him what to do, what not to do, how to be a good date, then he goes and uses it to hook someone else!

Okay, so he taught me a few things as well, things that will help me hook someone. Even so! I was about to let him… we were going to… I was looking forward to it! All right, I don’t- didn’t actually love him, but it was good to learn new stuff together!

Jessie interrupted her thoughts again. “Totally off the subject, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. We’ve got a new boy starting next week. Very shy. Nervous around people, especially girls. Would you mind keeping an eye on him? Teaching him the ropes?” She was half-smiling.

Missy scowled. “I’m not some sort of charity for the lost and clueless!”

Jessie dug her in the ribs. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get a kick out of helping Roscoe!”

Missy considered. I did do a good job on him, didn’t I? The scowl turned slowly into a grin. I can do it again. “You’re on.”


About the author

Lindsay lives in the English countryside with a loving spouse, two equally wonderful children and assorted pets who have their affectionate moments – usually when they’re hungry. Writing is an occasional pastime, the genre of choice being adult-themed short stories from the female perspective. The goal isn’t fabulous riches, but simply to entertain.

All the Warming Stories collections are available for free download from SmashWords:

Volume One

Volume Two

Volume Three

and from major online eBook retailers such as Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Apple.

If you also like full-length romance novels, you should try

This story, and the characters within it are pure fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older

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