Once inside, she hurriedly helped her mother unpack the groceries and put them away in the cupboards, then she ran down the stairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom, where she pulled out her diary and began to write. Today’s entry was unlike any she had ever written before. Her mind was full of exciting thoughts which she was dying to explore and the page was the ideal place to do so. Her hand didn’t stop writing until she had filled up an entire five pages of detailed descriptions of the fantasies going through her mind. It felt so good to get it out, for there was nobody she could have talked to about these things. She knew that none of her friends could possibly understand her penchant for older men, and so it had always been the sort of thing she thought best kept to herself. Putting the pen down now, she re-read the lines once, then a second time before closing the book and tucking it away under her bed. Then she lay on her back and closed her eyes, a look of perfect contentment on her face as her mind wandered.
~
After dinner that evening she showered and feigned a headache so she could turn in early without any pesky questions. Back in her bedroom, she turned off the light and lit a candle and some incense. Turning on her stereo, she selected her favourite track on her Beethoven CD and pressed play. The first soft, haunting notes of the seventh symphony, second movement, filled the room and she turned the volume down low and crawled into bed. This piece of music always made her feel sensual and perfectly matched her mood that evening. She thought of handsome John and replayed the highlights of the few conversations they’d had earlier in the year, before letting her imagination take over. Closing her eyes, she conjured up a vivid image of him pulling her in for a passionate kiss. It made her feel warm all over and with a sigh she arched her back, unaware of the fact that her hands were running over her body, down over the curve of her breasts, her stomach and her thighs. As the imaginary kiss progressed she rolled over onto her side and embraced her pillow, pulling it to her neck and imagining John’s mouth there, sucking and biting her soft flesh as she clung to him. She wanted to smell him; to hear his breathing and his voice as he softly spoke her name. A curious jolt of pleasure hit her deep inside and her muscles tensed. The area between her thighs felt wet and hot, and she was suddenly very short of breath. After a moment the overwhelming sensation began to subside and she tentatively reached down the front of her panties to assess what had happened. Turning on the light to investigate the strange, creamy substance on her fingers, which she then lifted to her nose, she wondered what on earth it could be. She would ask her best friend Vanessa the next day at school. Vanessa would know. She knew the answer to everything.
Still buzzing from the exhilirating experience Jane cleaned herself up and changed her knickers before crawling into bed, where she fantasised about John for another two hours before finally giving in to sleep.
~
John had not expected Mrs Jones’ call, and what she had to tell him was a complete shock. She’d been going through her daughter’s room looking for clothes that needed washing (or so she said) and had happened upon her diary. The latest entry, she told him, had given her cause for concern. John’s heart raced as his neighbour spent the better part of ten minutes reading out word for word the fantasies of the girl who he had never thought of as anything more than the sweet little angel who he would sometimes take for rides in his car .
Mrs Jones knew how her daughter could be once she got an idea in her head, and she told this to John. They both agreed that the best thing to do was for John to have a talk with her as soon as possible. To set some clear boundaries. As John was free the rest of that afternoon, he proposed that he drive to the school and pick Jane up so that he could have a talk with her in the car on the way back.
When Jane’s teacher informed her that her that Mr Southgate would be picking her up that afternoon, her heart leapt. Not a word of her lessons sank in after that, and for the remainder of the school day all she could think about was when it would finally be three o’clock.
When the bell rang she ran out the door, making certain that her hair was just right before scanning the line of cars as the rest of the school emptied out. She saw John’s car at once and made a beeline towards it as a handful of her classmates looked on in amazement. So full of pride she thought she might burst, she greeted her dishy neighbour and turned to wave goodbye to a couple of her friends before opening the door and getting in.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she fastened her seatbelt, stealing a glimpse of John as she did so. He did not seem his usual carefree self, but he did give her a reassuring little smile. In her mind, she pretended she was his wife and they were driving back to their home. She pretended this every time she was in the car with him. How she longed to be older; to be a woman.
John drove in silence for a few minutes before turning to Jane and sincerely asking how she was. She wanted to answer that she had never been better, but quickly changed her demeanour and replied “Okay” as casually as she could manage. She breathed in the heavenly mix of his aftershave and his natural smell as she pretended to look out the window.
The things that had been read out to him earlier that day played on John’s mind as he navigated his way through the traffic. In the scenario Jane had written in her diary, he had told her what an attractive young woman she was becoming, and as this was the truth he thought that the best way to start would be to use those exact words. Once he had said them, he averted his eyes because he knew they would cause her to blush. Jane knew she was pretty, and she rejoiced in the fact that this special man saw her beauty as well. If anyone knew about beautiful women it was John.
Switching to lecture mode, he then went on to caution her. “You know, Jane,” he said in a soft but serious tone of voice, “you ought to be aware of how attractive you are becoming to the opposite sex. To the boys at your school and at church. And I can tell you this, because I can actually recognise this myself as a man. You are turning into a woman. Your clothes are getting tighter on you and guys can have really dirty minds when it comes to pretty girls like you. They might ask you to do things. Try to touch you. Your body is the most exciting thing in the world for a boy.”
Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to figure out where John was going with this. She half suspected her mother of putting him up to this, though she did not want to believe this was the case.
“I’ve known you for years now, Jane,” John continued, taking a different route than the one her mother normally did. The area they were in now was unfamiliar to her and she wondered if they were lost, but said nothing.
“I wish I could protect you from any bad experiences you might have. To ensure that the first time you experience these things, that it is special. Not clumsy. And with a person who you are attracted to and who can really appreciate the beauty that you’ve got. So that when it does happen, it is something really special. For both of you.”
Jane’s heart sank. This sounded dishearteningly similar to the lectures she had been forced to sit through all her life at church, warning young people not to give in to their desires, to a life of promiscuity and misery, but instead to save themselves for marriage.
“Someone who really wants you,” John continued, his eyes wandering over to her as he drove. They were now on a much quieter road and surrounded by trees. There was an air of serenity and Jane found it quite beautiful, though she wondered what exactly they were doing there.
“Someone who… has secretly thought things about you that you might have thought of them too.”
Jane’s blood froze in her veins when it dawned on her what was going on. Her body language told John that she desperately wanted to get out of the car, to end the conversation at once, and he tried his best to assure her that it was not his intention to upset her.
“I know about the things you’ve written,” he said, spontaneously opting to come clean with her in hopes that reaching out to her in this way would help her to calm down.
“I didn’t mean any of those things!” Jane insisted defensively, on the verge of panicking.
“Jane… Look, it’s okay. I’d like for us to speak as adults now. And as we’re being honest with each other, I can admit that I feel guilty talking to you in this way now.