Airship Over Atherton

by Christopher Cummings

  “N..nothing,” Willy replied hastily, knowing he looked and sounded guilty. He blushed.

  Marjorie looked hurt. Luckily at that moment the bell went and he was able to escape.

  It was a long day after that. Willy sat in class in a turmoil of doubt. ‘It couldn’t be true! Barbara doesn’t go around flaunting herself like Karen does,’ he tried to tell himself. But there was a sickening doubt. During morning break and at lunch time Willy devoted his time to some long-distance surveillance to check what Marjorie had said, knowing in his heart that doing so was an admission that he did have severe doubts.

  To his dismay he saw that Barbara, Karen, Fiona Davies and several other girls spent half an hour promenading up and down past a group of senior boys; including both Cressly and Masters. As they did there was a lots of chat and by-play, much of it sexual innuendo. And Barbara was part of it.

  For a while Willy stood and watched, feeling crushed and hurt. He tried to tell himself it was just a game and didn’t mean anything. Sadly he turned away- and found Marjorie standing looking at him. He gave a guilty start and sauntered over to her, pretending nothing unusual was going on.

  Marjorie said: “I wondered where you were. Stick and Stephen are looking for you. They are in the library.”

  Willy went with her to the library. Stick and Willy sat at a table in the far corner. Stick saw them coming and held up a book for him to see. “Look Willy. Here’s a book about airships.”

  It was ‘The Achievement of the Airship’ by Hartup. Willy nodded. “Thanks, but I’ve read that one.”

  “Just trying to help. It’s got some good photos,” Stick said.

  Willy sat down and Marjorie sat next to him, her leg touching his. He tried to edge away but the table leg prevented this. As they talked she kept pressing it against his. He wished she wouldn’t because her touch made him feel horny and uncomfortable.

  Then she put her right arm on his shoulders and her left hand on his bare left thigh. Willy was also acutely conscious that she was pressing her breast against his upper arm- and that he was rapidly becoming aroused.

  The test came when the bell rang. He did not want the others to see his aroused condition so he waited till Stick and Stephen had both stood up. Next he looked at Marjorie, willing her to stand up and go. He found she was looking intently at him.

  Willy gestured irritably. “We’d better go,” he said, hoping she would get up first.

  “Yes,” she murmured, leaning closer.

  “Up you get.”

  “After you,” she said with an impish grin.

  Willy looked around in near panic. The others were talking or putting books back. He had to do something- blast the girl! He stood up, turning his back to the others. Willy looked hastily around to check whether they were looking. They weren’t so he grabbed Marjorie’s hands and pulled her to her feet. She slid her hands up his front and put her arms around his neck and went to kiss him. He tried to step back but the chair stopped him.

  “Stop that! You’ll get us into trouble,” Willy said. He tried to take her arms from around his neck but she managed to press herself hard against him. A glance revealed Stick and Stephen laughing and pointing at them and a couple of Year 10 girls staring in amazement. Willy looked fearfully round to see if a teacher could see them. He didn’t want another visit to the office, and certainly not for such a blatant breach of the school rules.

  With an effort he broke free but not before Marjorie had kissed him. Aflame with embarrassment and desire he fled over to Stick and Stephen. Marjorie followed, giggling.

  Stick laughed. “That was a lucky escape Willy. You want to watch out for her. She’s a real little vampire.”

  Willy flamed with shame and walked off. The others laughed and followed. To escape the situation he fled into the toilet and remained there till his passion had subsided.

  During afternoon classes Willy sat wracked by desire and guilt. He kept looking at Barbara but his thoughts kept wandering to Marjorie. For most of the afternoon he suffered from guilt and involuntary arousal.

  At the end of the school day Willy snuck out of the school, stopping at every corner to scout for Marjorie, before walking to the next building, and so to the bike racks. He found he was still very excited and his emotions seemed to boil. It was a relief to get on his bike and pedal away.

  That evening he went to Air Cadets with Stick. It was an enjoyable experience. As he stood on parade in his uniform Willy felt very proud. He tried very hard to do everything exactly right. There were lectures on aerodynamics, and on the functional organization of the RAAF which he found very interesting.

  On Saturday he stayed home. His father went up to the farm to help Aunty Isabel. Willy helped his mother with chores around the house during the morning. His hands had now healed but she would not let him do the heavier tasks such as mowing the lawn. Lloyd was ordered to do this. After lunch Willy finished making the frames for his model. Then he lay down and read a book.

  Sleep quietly engulfed him as he lay there. When he was woken for tea he was surprised to find it was dark. In spite of the rest he still felt very drained. He spent the evening at home watching TV with his mother and went to bed early.

  Willy drifted into a deep sleep but woke at 3am with a fuzzy recollection of a steamy dream about Marjorie. Unable to go back to sleep he lay and enjoyed erotic memories about Marjorie. Suddenly he stopped himself.

  ‘It is wrong! I am in love with Barbara!’

  But.

  But it had been very enjoyable!

  He had to admit that Marjorie was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. Memories and fantasies of her made him very confused but also very aroused. With some misgivings he had to admit he would very much like to have more experiences with her. He knew he would like to do it, just to see what it was like; and he also wanted to do it to prove to himself he was a normal man who could do it. But that concept made him wince. ‘A real man! What a hypocrite I am!’ he thought. ‘Strewth I’m horny!’ For hours he lay there, torn by inner conflict and urgent physical need.

  He drifted off to sleep again.

  On Sunday morning Lloyd went off to play tennis with friends. Willy’s mother went out, saying she would go to church and then to a friends to look at her orchids. Willy went down to the workshop to work on his model.

  Carefully he laid out all the pieces of frames, counted and checked them, then settled to gluing them together. To do this he placed the plans on a sheet of pressboard on the table, unrolled clear plastic ‘Clingwrap’ over them and pinned both down with thumb tacks. Next he carefully pinned one piece of framework in place on the plans. He took the adjoining piece, smeared a thin layer of model glue along its edge and positioned it in place, then also pinned it down. The clear plastic was to prevent the glue sticking to the plans.

  A knock at the front door interrupted him. ‘Blast!’ he thought. ‘Probably Mormons or something.’ Annoyed at the interruption he wiped glue from his finger and went to the door.

  It was Marjorie.

  CHAPTER 12

  TOO MUCH TOO SOON

  Willy swore under his breath but said: “Hello Marjorie. Come in.”

  She was dressed in the same tight yellow T-shirt and a very short denim skirt. She followed him through to the workshop. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Willy gestured to the work bench. “I’m just gluing the frames of a model zeppelin together. Do you mind if I keep working?”

  “No, I don’t mind. I will be happy to watch,” Marjorie replied. She sat down at the corner of the bench and leaned on it. He could not help noticing her breasts and he started to get aroused.

  With a conscious effort of willpower Willy averted his eyes and commenced gluing the next piece in place. To correctly position the frame he stood up and leaned over the bench. Only six frames could be glued at once because there was only one plan for the ten centre frames, which were all the same size. When he had done this he said, “That is all
I can do for a few minutes, till the glue dries,” he explained. “Would you like some morning tea?”

  “That would be nice. Yes please.”

  “OK. You go first,” Willy gestured.

  As Marjorie led the way up the stairs Willy’s eyes naturally went to her legs. ‘Heavens! That skirt is short,’ he thought. ‘It barely covers her bum!’ Then he stumbled on the stairs.

  As he fell he grabbed the rail to save himself. Marjorie turned to look. Willy went red with embarrassment. His mind raced, remembering her dangling from Airship No1; and the following night. His heart began to hammer. Fear and excitement both mounted. He tried to pretend everything was normal. Casually he poured glasses of soft drink and put out some cream biscuits.

  Marjorie looked around. “Where is your mum?”

  “At church; and dad is up at the farm,” Willy replied. He was not at all deceived by her casual tone and broke into a cold sweat. Even as he wondered if she would ask, she did.

  “What about your brother?”

  “He’s gone to tennis.”

  Marjorie nodded, had a drink, put down her glass, and stood up. Willy’s mind was now racing. They were home alone. It was a situation of dire peril- and wonderful opportunity. Without a word Marjorie moved over and sat beside him, so that her left knee was between his knees and his left knee between hers. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him.

  Willy felt paralysed. Thoughts of birds mesmerized by a cobra just before it struck came to him. ‘It can’t be true!’ he thought as she gently kissed him. ‘I can’t be that lucky!’ Their lips met again and he responded warmly.

  Their second kiss set him on fire. It went on and on. Her tongue explored his teeth and the top of his skull seemed to pound up and down. She took his left hand and gently stroked the pink new skin. He wanted to snatch the hand back, fearing what was coming, but was quite powerless to act. He feared her intentions even as he hoped he was right.

  He was. She pressed the hand to her right breast. Poor Willy! His heart seemed to stop, then re-start with a jolt and a terrible hammering. For a while he could not move a muscle, his whole consciousness absorbed by the feel of that soft swelling. Marjorie stopped kissing and put her own hand back over his and gave a gentle squeeze.

  Willy came to life. ‘Come on great lover! She wants you to!’ he told himself. He gave a tentative fondle. Marjorie sighed and pressed at him. Willy knew he was in deep water and fast losing control. But he was so aroused he didn’t care. This was what he had dreamed of doing.

  After a few minutes they stopped kissing again and drew apart. Marjorie had a glazed look in her eyes.

  “Do you like it,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” Willy croaked. His throat felt constricted and parched. The surge of blood was so strong he thought the top of his skull would explode.

  They kissed again and began to pet. The sensation was so pleasurable that Willy was sure he was in heaven! He writhed in ecstasy. But they seemed to be moving to really serious things so fast that Willy began to experience twinges of alarm. ‘God, I’m getting in deep here!’ he thought.

  After several very steamy minutes Marjorie let go and moved away. She looked at him with a sort of fuzzy intensity that frightened him. “You can if you want to,” she murmured.

  At first Willy thought he hadn’t heard correctly. But he had and his impulse was to run. When she pressed against him again Willy felt as though his heart would stop in panic. A girl had said he could! And she meant it!

  Marjorie moaned and murmured in a husky whisper, “Please Willy, please!”

  “Are you sure?” Willy murmured between dry lips. He wanted to draw back. “I don’t want to do something we..you.. might regret,” he croaked.

  “It’s alright. I’m not a virgin,” Marjorie whispered, pulling at him.

  ‘No. But I am,’ thought Willy. But he was not brave enough to admit it. He felt trapped, and even more scared. “Shouldn’t we take some sort of precautions?” he asked, seeking desperately for some face-saving excuse not to go on. He was also shocked by her revelation. ‘How could she? She is years too young; and who was the bloke?’ he wondered.

  Gripped by fear and doubt Willy shook his head. “No. It’s not right. You are too young,” he muttered.

  “It’s alright. I won’t tell,” Marjorie answered.

  “But.. but things might go wrong,” he said, casting around for a dignified retreat. He was now so scared he just wanted to escape.

  “It’s OK. You won’t make me pregnant,” she replied.

  That was only half Willy’s fears. Apart from the grim spectre of prison bars her comment about not being a virgin had added to his mental turmoil. He was glad that he wouldn’t feel so guilty later- but who had she been with? How many? How often? Having parents who were both doctors didn’t help. Thoughts of catching some loathsome and incurable disease rose like miasmic warts. There were also vague terrors conjured up by religion with whispers of conscience about hell fire and damnation.

  Again Willy shook his head. “No. We shouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. ‘Or get into real trouble,’ he thought. Because of her closeness Willy’s mind reeled. But fear began to replace passion. Oh! He wanted to do it! - but he now determined that he wouldn’t.

  “It will be good,” Marjorie murmured in a pleading tone.

  The old proverb about ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ slipped into Willy’s mind. He knew he could be ruining any chance of ever having any more luck with Marjorie but he had made his mind up. He gently held her away and said, “No. It’s got to be love,” he said.

  “It is! Willy I love you!” Marjorie cried.

  “Well I don’t love you,” Willy answered. It came out harder and more brutally than he meant.

  Marjorie’s face registered the blow. She sobbed, “Oh please Willy! You’ll come to love me when you get to know me. You like me don’t you?”

  Reluctantly Willy nodded. “Yes, I like you. That’s why I don’t want to risk hurting you. But no.” He tried to ease her away. She pressed herself against him and clung to him. “Please Willy, please!” To his dismay she shook with emotion and began to cry.

  “No Marjorie. Not now,” Willy groaned. He felt awful.

  “When?”

  “Please, not now,” Willy pleaded.

  “Why not? Is it that Barbara?”

  “No. No it’s not,” Willy replied. That shook him. He felt a real stab of guilt. He had not thought of Barbara at all during the whole thing. “No. I’m just not ready for it,” he cried. And that was true. It was all too real, too adult and potentially with very serious consequences.

  “Why not? Oh please Willy I am,” Marjorie cried, clasping him even tighter.

  Unwilling to admit that he was scared for all those reasons (And ashamed of himself for not telling the truth) Willy said: “Because.. well.. It’s just that I’m all upset at the moment. It’s been an awful time, what with Uncle Ted’s murder and Scranton and all that. I just don’t want any more pressure at the moment.”

  “Oh I’m sorry Willy. I’m being selfish. But OH! I want you!” Marjorie cried.

  At that she released her grip and slumped down sobbing. Willy held her till she calmed down a bit, then eased her off and stood up.

  “Sorry Marjorie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Marjorie’s face had all crumpled with tears: “Please Willy. I love you.”

  Willy shook his head. His emotions had taken a real battering and he felt dazed and confused. Her tears moved him; and so did her body. Oh God! She was so desirable! He felt a real heel. She stood up and he stepped forward and put his arms around her.

  Feeling quite ashamed and inadequate he patted her and said, “Don’t cry. It’s alright.”

  That made her cry even more. He patted her again and gave her a long hug. Inside he felt helpless and cruel. For several minutes they clung together and nothing was said. Then Marjorie murmured between sniffles: “You m
ust think I’m awful.”

  “I don’t Marjorie,” Willy replied. That made him analyze what he did think. She was so far outside his previous experience he knew he was floundering. For one thing, he was shocked to the core by what she had admitted about not being a virgin. And he was stunned to the point of real fear by her forwardness and her obvious urgent physical desire. ‘And she is only 13!’ He did not know whether to think it was a real tragedy or whether it was just that everyone was different, with different needs. Unpleasant words like ‘moll’, ‘trollop’ and ‘slut’ hovered on the edge of his consciousness.

  But at the back of it all, he had to admit, was straight out fear. This was adult stuff and they were only kids. She was under-age, quite apart from the half-understood terrors of unwanted pregnancy, AIDs and other loathsome diseases.

  Willy fumbled out his handkerchief and wiped her cheek. They drew slightly apart and she let him dab away her tears. He was very gentle. But he was also torn. Looking at her caused another surge of desire and a weakening of his resolve.

  ‘Am I just a coward?’ he wondered miserably. ‘Should I do it?’ After all, he reasoned, if she isn’t a virgin and if she likes it then no real harm will be done. Oh he wanted to! He took a deep breath and stepped back.

  Marjorie took the offered handkerchief and wiped her eyes again, then blew her nose. She straightened her hair and clothing. As she did Willy was struck by her voluptuous attractiveness and he shook his head with wonder. Another spasm of desire surged through him, making him tremble. He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his shorts.

  When Marjorie had tidied herself Willy stepped forward and put his arms around her waist. For a moment she stiffened, then she relaxed and pressed against him. More tears came.

  Willy stroked her soothingly. “It’s alright Marjorie. I still like you.”

  “I’d better go,” she sniffled.

  “You don’t have to,” Willy replied. He was now completely confused. He wished her to the devil- but he now wanted her to stay; and he did not want to hurt her more.