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Books by R. Moreen Clarke
Quench My Thirst
Promiscuous
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Promiscuous
R. MOREEN CLARKE
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
1
1990
Pajama parties have long been known as a popular event for young girls; it’s where secrets are shared, true friends bond, and those who don’t quite fit are revealed. The party at 234 Mulberry Court was no different. Five teenaged girls discussed their secret, and not-so-secret, loves. They discussed who’d done “it,” who wanted to do “it,” and what “it” might be like when it finally happened. In the midst of their giggling and teasing, the one who didn’t quite fit was exposed to the unflattering glare of parental microscopic inspection.
The party was hosted by Constance Jefferson. “CJ,” as she was called, lived in a well-maintained estate home in the right neighborhood. Her father was a successful and prominent surgeon. CJ was a pretty, shy, and petite sixteen-year old. She’d invited three of her friends from the cheerleading squad at the private high school they all attended: Petra Engles, sixteen, a snobbish child of privilege who was happy to let everyone know her father was the mayor, Debbie Cardena, a buxom, gregarious blonde, also sixteen, and Emily Park, polished, reserved, and mature beyond her seventeen years.
Debbie had called CJ earlier in the day to ask if she could bring along a friend. CJ had eagerly agreed without asking the identity of the additional guest—as far as she was concerned, the more the merrier. However, when she opened the door later that evening to find that Debbie had brought along her best friend, Andie Moore, CJ wasn’t certain how her other guests would feel. After the two girls entered the foyer, CJ hastily grabbed Debbie and pulled her down the hallway, whispering intently.
“Why didn’t you just tell me it was Andie? You know Petra doesn’t like her.”
“She’s really nice, CJ. It’s just that nobody takes the time to get to know her,” Debbie replied easily.
Andie, a tall, gangly teenager, with thick, curly brown hair and hazel eyes, took the opportunity to meander along the hallway and admired the décor of the tastefully appointed home, and pretended she didn’t hear the whispering about her being there. She didn’t care what they said—she was here and that was all that mattered to her. She could pretty much get dimwitted Debbie to do whatever she wanted. Convincing her to call CJ for the invitation had been easy, and she told Debbie not to tell CJ whom she was bringing along. She knew that if her name had been mentioned, she wouldn’t be there. Polite manners dictated they allow her to stay and she counted on them relying upon correct manners. Now all she had to do was convince them she belonged as a part of their sphere. Tonight she intended to win them all over.
In the 1950’s, Andie would have been referred to as being from the wrong side of the tracks. In more modern times, they politely referred to their poorer neighbors as not a good fit. Not a good fit for their social clubs, their organizations, their neighborhoods, and certainly not a good fit to be their children’s friends. Considering that Andie did not live in an upper-class neighborhood, and her parentage was certainly in question, it was difficult to uncover how she ended up at such a posh high school. The school was discreet enough not to disclose the details.
CJ quickly slipped back into her role of hostess and guided the young women to the family room, where the others were waiting. Conversation halted briefly as they entered the room and then a flurry of whispers could be heard. Determined her party was not going to be disrupted, Connie took charge.
“Hey, everybody, I’m not sure if you all know Andie. This is Andie Moore, one of our classmates, and she’s joining us tonight. Everybody say hi,” she said in an attempt to break the ice.
Resolute in her determination to win them over, Andie greeted Petra and Emily warmly before choosing the empty space next to Emily on the sofa. CJ began passing around snacks and the five girls easily slipped back into their conversation about school and boys. They watched a few movies before retiring to Connie’s oversized bedroom for the night. In the privacy of Connie’s bedroom the conversation turned toward sex.
Andie listened to their tales of petting and heavy kissing in silence. She was waiting for her opportunity to impress them with her knowledge and sexual experience.
Debbie admitted she’d let a boy put his hand inside her panties during a date. “He started rubbing me down there and getting all excited. His thing was so big, I could see it through his pants,” she explained.
“Well, how did it feel? Did it feel good to have his hand down there?” Petra asked.
Debbie giggled before replying earnestly, “No, it didn’t feel so good. I mean, his hands were rough and he was rubbing so hard it was uncomfortable, but he was moaning and groaning like it was so good.”
“Did you see his thing?” Petra probed.
“No, but you know he tried to pull it out and show it to me. I turned my head and told him to put that thing away, ’cause I knew what he was going to try next, and I wasn’t having none of that!” She stated it as though they all knew what “that” was.
“They ain’t all that scary once you get used to them,” Andie said quietly from her corner of the bed. All eyes turned to look at her.
“You’ve seen more than one?” Petra asked.
“I’ve seen a few,” she replied, and then continued, “Boys aren’t any smarter about sex
