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 A FUN KIND OF GIRL 7

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   Author's Notes: A FUN KIND OF GIRL is the third book of the Gold Club
Series.  Book Three is the story of Ed Morgan, a young man who idolizes his
older brother Jack.  Jack teaches him about sex and sexuality and about the
fun kind of girls.  (Mm+/f, Mm+/Ff+, Mm, mF, MF, cons, anal, oral, light
bond, inc, interr, voy)

   A FUN KIND OF GIRL (Gold Club Book 3) By Art Martn

   CHAPTER 7



   Everything changed again when I graduated from high school and went to
State U.  I went to the main campus at Appleton and following Mr.  D's
advice I worked on a degree in Business Administration, specializing in
finance.

   At Mr.  D's insistence, I joined his old fraternity, Lambda Omega Psi.
They were a snooty bunch, but they jumped at the chance to pledge someone
who drove a 'Vette.  The Lam-O's were a beer-drinking lot, given to
partying hard, but I found them to be a na<ve bunch when it came to women.
Most had a girl friend and very few were virgins, but none had any
experience with really fun girls and didn't have clue as to what to do with
them.  A couple of fun girls from Madison and Everton I knew went to State
U.  I showed the Lam-O's what to do with them.  I was very popular with my
frat brothers.

   The big change came in my junior year.  At a joint Lam-O and Gamma Theta
Pi party, I met Anne.  Anne was a sophomore and a Gamma Thigh.  I don't
know how I missed her before, but when I saw her, I fell in love.  She was
the most perfect creature I had ever laid eyes on.  At 5 foot 10 inches she
was about four inches shorter than me.  She had a perfect face, sparkling
blue eyes, full sultry lips, and long blonde hair down to her waist.  She
was a little top heavy, but with measurements of 40D-26-36, she was breath
taking.  I visualized her naked, riding my stiff dick while I massaged her
huge but perfect breasts with one hand while gently squeezing her clit with
the other.

   I introduced myself and tried to be cool.

   She said, "Hi!" and flittered off as if I didn't exist.  I tried several
other times at the party to strike up a conversation, but with no success
and wound up feeling like a fool.

   A couple of my frat brothers told me to forget about her, that she was
an ice queen or maybe even a full-blown lesbian.  Still, I was love struck
and determined to have her.  I asked Snoopy, a Gamma Thigh, and a reliable
once-a-month screw, just what was the deal with Anne.

   "Well," she said, "it takes awhile to get to know Anne.  She's very
proper and incredibly shy, especially around guys.  When she pledged, we
didn't want her, but her mother was a Gamma and she was a legacy.  We had
to take her.  Glad we did, because it turns out she's really sweet, and
with a 4.0 average she helps out our house academics considerably.  Her
problem is that she's so incredibly shy around strangers, she clams up and
puts up an almost impentrateble wall."

   Snoopy wrinkled her forehead, searching for an explanation.  "You see;
she's an orphan.  Her mom and dad were killed when she was little.  Her
only living relative, an uncle, sent her off to an all-girls boarding
school and pretty much forgot about her.  She says that she's only seen her
uncle maybe five times, and then for only an hour or two at a time.  So
until she started at State U, she'd never even had a date!"

   "Is she dating anyone now?"

   Snoopy laughed.  "God no!  She's been out, maybe a half a dozen times.
We try to fix her up, double date, but she doesn't know how to act around
guys.  She won't even speak to them and the guys never call her back. 
Can't blame them.  Are you interested in her?"

   "Yeah, I'd like to get to know her."

   Snoopy laughed again.  "I know she's very pretty, Eddie, but she's
really not your kind of girl.  She's a virgin!  I don't think she's ever
even kissed a guy."

   "You know, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever poked a virgin.
Does she like girls?"

   "Oh, no!  I put the moves on her and she really freaked out.  I managed
to convince her I was just kidding around and she calmed down.  She avoided
me for the next two weeks."

   I saw Anne a week later crossing the Quadrangle and I hurried up to
intercept her.

   "Hi," I said hopefully.  "Remember me?  Eddie Morgan.  We met at the
Gamma-Lam-O party two weeks ago."

   She looked like a startled deer in the headlights.

   "Hey, I won't bite.  I promise!"

   "I've heard of you," she said cutting her eyes to find a route to
safety. "You have a bad reputation."

   "Excuse me?"

   "Everybody knows about you."

   "Knows what?"

   "What you do to girls."

   "I'm not exactly sure what you mean."

   "You have sex with every girl you date."

   "Who says?"

   "My sorority sisters."

   "I do know a few Gammas, but if anyone is spreading rumors, it's not me.
I never talk about whom I'm intimate with.  If anyone is talking, it's your
sisters."

   "Well, I heard..."

   "Look, I just want to talk to you.  Get to know you.  Can I buy you
lunch?"

   She still looked almost panicked, glancing around as if looking for
someone to rescue her from me.

   "I'm not an ogre.  I won't molest you.  Promise."

   She replied with little enthusiasm, "Uh, okay."

   We walked to the Student Union and had lunch.  She was really hard to
talk to.  My jokes either went over her head or crashed under the table,
either way I felt very awkward.  Every line of conversation seemed to hit a
dead end with no response from her.  I could see why guys didn't ask her
out a second time.  Still I bravely trudged on until I mentioned a chamber
music recital that was scheduled for that evening.  Suddenly she came to
life.

   "Oh, I love classical music!" It was the first crack in her formidable
armor.

   I quickly responded, "So do I."

   "I would have thought that you were a heavy metal rock fan."

   "No, I grew up listening to Bach, Beethoven, Mahler, Rachmaninoff,
Handel, Sibelius and that crowd.  Mom didn't allow any other music in the
house when she was home.  Would you like to go with me tonight?  The
program is called "Smash Hits of 1750."

   She seemed relaxed for the first time.  "Yes, I would love to go.  What
time?"

   "I'll pick you up at 7:00."

   Once the ice was broken, I found her to be a very good
conversationalist, very intelligent, very sophisticated in her tastes.  The
beer swilling/rock 'n roll scene that dominated college life turned her
off. I started reading Keats, Frost, and Plato in an attempt to impress
her. I was always a gentleman with her and treated her as a lady.  I was so
taken by her that I stopped seeing all other girls.  Anne never dated
anyone else.

   Some months into our relationship it came up in a conversation that my
mother was Helena Morgan, the artist.  She had read all about Helena Morgan
and her art, how she had painted nudes of her sons.

   "I love how she does flowers.  They're so real looking.  But aren't you
embarrassed about the way she chose to paint you?"

   "No, why should I?  It's art."

   "Yes, but to have everyone see you like that.  I'd be embarrassed."

   "I'm not embarrassed.  Look, she's my mother.  She chose to paint me as
I am.  It's art."

   "Do you think she would paint me?"

   I was totally surprised.  The boarding school nuns had really done a job
on her.  For months I had been dating her, never presuming, rarely getting
anything more than chicken peck for a kiss.  I thought of when Mom painted
Aunt Jean and I would sit and watch.  At first Aunt Jean was embarrassed by
my presence, but soon came to accept it.  The thought of Anne nude was
almost too much, and I quipped, "Yes, but I get to watch."

   Anne turned a deep shade of red.  "No!  I couldn't do that!"

   I don't know what processed me to say it but I blurted out, "Why not? 
You'd be my wife!"

   "What did you say?"

   "You'd be my wife."

   She smiled and said, "I think I'd like that."

   After that our relationship became a little more normal sexually and at
least she would make out with me, giving me a glimpse of just how
passionate she really was.  Still she maintained her complete virginity, no
matter how hard I tired to relieve her of that burden.  After dating her
exclusively for nearly a year, I was horny as hell, my only relief was my
right hand.  For all I knew, she might have been a transvestite.  I finally
accepted the fact that the only way that she would surrender herself to me
completely would be in our nuptial bed.  I asked her to marry me.





   READ CHAPTER 8

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