I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 31

  • Posted on June 12, 2016 at 9:57 pm

Marie Spends the Night – After an Interesting Friday at School

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

Friday finally arrived and I got to school early, hoping Marie would show up early too so we could talk. Deanna had gotten sick, so she had missed the last two days and would miss again today, so Marie would be the only girl I would want to talk to before school. Sure enough, ten minutes before the first bell, she walked up, having been dropped off early again by her sister Linda. She was usually dropped off by Sara, but she had told me that Linda could drop her off earlier, and now she had a reason to arrive early at school.

We hugged when she arrived, and I noticed Ms. Patterson coming up the sidewalk from her car. She saw us, and when she passed by she said for us not to get too chummy with each other. We giggled openly at that. I think she was getting the idea, finally, that we weren’t just experimenting with each other. She knew who my mom was, and I wondered if she realized that calling her did not get me in trouble.

Of course, this was a private school, and they could have kicked us both out, but my mom was a big contributor to the school, giving lots of money to the arts program, and they wouldn’t want to say good-bye to that kind of cash. And because I was safe from being kicked out, so was Marie, even if her parents didn’t give donations like my mom did. At least I don’t think they did.

“So, it’s the big night tonight,” I said, grinning.

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” Marie answered. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“So, did you bring something to sleep in?” I asked, meaning to tease her if she had.

“Just my skin,” she said, giggling. “But I did bring a change of clothes for tomorrow. Shorts, a shirt, socks, and panties. They’re in my book bag.”

“What for?” I asked. “We’re just going to hang around my house naked when we get up.”

“Really? What would your mom think?” she asked.

“Well, let’s just say she’ll be fine with it.”

“What’d’ya mean, she’ll be fine with it? Is there some catch?”

I motioned her over to the planter again, and we sat. She knew I had a secret to tell her. I figured since she told me about her and her sisters, I could tell her about me and my family.

“What is it?” she asked, anxious to hear whatever I had to say that involved making sure we were alone.

“If I tell you something, you gotta swear never to say a word to anyone,” I said.

“Hey, I’m all about keeping secrets. I’ve kept the one about my family and me, haven’t I?”

“Well, I guess, but you did tell me.”

“That’s because I know I can trust you. You strike me as someone who doesn’t have many hangups when it comes to sex.”

“Hey, girl, I have zero hangups about sex.”

“I could tell,” she said, giggling. “Just like me. Now, hurry up and tell me before the bell rings and we have to go in. I want some reaction time.”

“Reaction time?” I asked.

“You know. You tell me a secret, I react and go bonkers about it or something. Reaction time!”

“Oh, okay.” I paused for a second to build the drama.

Slapping my shoulder, she said, “Give!”

I laughed. Then we put our heads close together. At that moment, the bell rang.

“I guess I’ll have to tell you later,” I said, giggling. “I wouldn’t want to destroy your reaction time.”

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You better tell me right now, Cheryl, or I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” I said, grinning at her.

“Well, I won’t make out with you tonight.”

“Yes, you will. I’m irresistible,” I said, still grinning.

“Come on!” she said. “Everyone’s going in!”

“Okay. You know how you and your sisters have had sex with each other since you were five?”

“Yeah. I know that. Remember? I’m the one who told you.”

“Well…” I paused again for effect. “My mom and I have been doing it since I was six.”

I could tell that was definitely NOT what she expected. Her eyes grew big, the whites showing all around and her jaw dropped wide open. She seemed speechless.

Standing up and starting toward the doors, I said, “Well, I guess we better go in. We only have another four minutes till we’re late for first class.”

“No! No! NO!” she said, grabbing my arm to stop me and turn me to look at her. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” She was keeping her volume down, but her excitement was clear.

I grinned, saying nothing.

“Really?! This isn’t some bad joke because I told you about me and my sisters?!”

“No joke.”

“Holy fucking shit! I thought you were going to tell me you and your sister Jenna fooled around!”

“Oh, yeah. That too,” I said, still grinning like a cat let loose in a fish market.

“Oh, shit!” she said, and then she did something I had never seen anyone do before.

She came. Standing right there outside of the school building, she had a spontaneous orgasm. I could see it in her eyes. She hunched and grunted, her mouth going all funny. Then her eyes closed, and she moaned. We were alone by then, the other kids having gone inside, and she put her hand to her pussy and squeezed it through the jumper she wore.

“Oh, my God!” I said. “Did you just come?”

“Uh-huh. I do that sometimes when I get really turned on about something. I had been wondering if you and your sister got together and was hoping you did so we could all fool around together after your mom went to bed or something. Now, we don’t even have to worry about that.”

“Nope. My mom is totally cool with whatever we do together, even with Jenna.”

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me come again, and I have to get to band.” She played the flute in band, and because she was in the concert band, she had it first class.

We entered the building and we each made a mad dash for our classes. My class was science with Mr. Whitley. I had become one of his favorite pupils in the past week since I had flashed him in class the day Clare made me go without panties.

I had to run past Ms. Patterson’s room to get to the science wing, and she was standing outside her door, urging students to get to class. She gave me a strange look as I rushed past, as if wondering what Marie and I had been up to that made me late.

“You’ll never guess,” I mumbled to myself as I ran down the hall.

The tardy bell rang just as I got within about ten feet of Mr. Whitley’s room, but he just smiled and said, “Come on in, Princess.” I smiled my thanks to him, even though what I’d done a few days before should have earned me excused tardies for the rest of the year.

By the time I got to math class, the class Marie and I shared, I couldn’t think of anything else but Marie’s spontaneous orgasm. I was shocked that she could have them, but mostly I was jealous. I wished I could do that. I’ve gotten to the point plenty of times that I could just touch myself and come because I’d gotten so turned on and denied myself a climax for so long, or maybe squeeze my legs together and have a small orgasm, but I had never just come without even touching myself or doing anything the way Marie had. She had just been standing there, and I suppose the thought of me and my mom and Jenna all together pushed her over the brink. Either that, or it was the thought of her with Jenna and maybe even my mom. I didn’t know, but I did know it was highly erotic whatever it was.

In any case, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. When Marie entered the room, I was already at my desk, so she was looking at me as she walked to her seat. I made a big, silent show of looking at her face then down to her pussy. She got the hint and when I looked back up to her face on my little visual journey, she winked at me.

Then she reached and dropped a note on my desk.

It read, “Ask to go to the bathroom. I’ll meet you there.”

Wow, decision time. I didn’t want to miss any of my math since it wasn’t my best subject and I needed all the explanations Mr. Carlton could provide. Then again, this was Marie, my bathroom soulmate if ever there was one. Still, we had sort of developed a rep with Ms. Patterson and Mr. Spivey, and I didn’t want to push things. I definitely didn’t want to get caught again.

I finally decided to choose friend over school work. After all, I was a self-respecting thirteen-year-old, so naturally that was my choice when push came to shove.

When we got to work on some problems about twenty minutes before the end of class, I got up and asked Mr. Carlton if I could go to the restroom. He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind for even asking, but he let me go when I told him it was a female thing. All the male teachers let the girls go to the bathroom when they said that. It was like some unwritten rule or something because if we happened to be telling the truth, which most of us weren’t, there would be hell to pay if we were forced to sit in our own menstrual blood and stain our clothes for the world to see. At a place like this, it could maybe get a teacher fired. The only thing was you had to keep track with which teacher you told when. It was an easy lie to get caught in if you tried it two weeks in a row or something.

I got to the bathroom and peed for the sake of at least being able to say I really had to go. Then I waited for Marie. When four minutes had passed and she hadn’t shown, I got concerned. Stepping to the door, I stuck my head out and glanced around to see if I could see her.

No Marie. The hallway was deserted.

Okay, this was officially weird. After five minutes, I figured someone would come looking for me if I didn’t get back to class, and two days in a row of that would not go well. I had no choice but to return to math and Mr. Carlton.

When I walked in, I looked toward Marie’s desk. She was still there, and I could see she was fuming. As I walked past Mr. Carlton’s desk, he cleared his throat to get my attention. When I looked at him, he signaled me over to his desk.

“Don’t try that again,” was all he said about my journey to the bathroom. Then he pointed angrily at my desk. “And if you don’t finish, you cannot do it for homework. I’ll grade what you have completed.” I felt myself blushing.

Mr. Carlton was really pissed, but I didn’t know why exactly. As I passed Marie’s desk, she slipped me a note. Looking at her, I could see she was still very pissed about something, probably because Mr. Carlton wouldn’t let her go to the restroom.

But when I looked at her note, my heart sank. Then I got pissed too.

Her note said, “He knows about yesterday. Someone told him. Ms. Patterson, I guess. He said I couldn’t go to the bathroom for ‘a repeat performance’ of yesterday.”

When I looked up from the note, she was still fuming, glancing back at me to see my reaction. Her jaw was so tense I thought someone could use it as an anvil to hammer against and angry tears threatened to spill over her eyelids.

I worked on my classwork as hard as I could, trying to ignore what had happened. I was majorly pissed at Ms. Patterson. I couldn’t believe she had told anyone else about yesterday. She had seemed so… cool about the incident, as if she wanted to make sure nobody made a mountain out of a molehill regarding what we’d done.

I finished all but the last five problems, which pretty well assured me of making no better than a D on the assignment, which only added gasoline to the fire of my anger.

When I got outside Mr. Carlton’s room, I told Marie I would see her out front after school, and that tonight we’d make up for all the hell we’d dealt with that week.

Then I made a bee-line to Ms. Patterson’s room. I was so angry at her, I knew I would have to control myself when I got there. I didn’t want to be suspended for cussing out a teacher, no matter how much money my mom gave the school. If I said the things I was thinking, I would definitely be suspended for a few days.

So as I approached her room, I took several deep breaths to get my composure, which was cracking already because tears had formed and were threatening to cascade down my cheeks at any second.

When I got there, she was standing outside again, saying hello to students as they entered and urging other students in the halls to hurry to their next class and not be late, as she’d been doing earlier.

I stopped directly in front of her and said, “Can you and I talk for a moment?”

She could see I was obviously upset. She said, “What is it, Cheryl? Did someone call you a name or something?”

“Not yet,” I said, thinking once word got out to the students, it would certainly start. I knew being caught could result in that, but I had never considered that the source of the leak would be a teacher. “I just need to talk to you.”

“Okay, talk,” she said, acting as if she had no idea why I might be upset.

“Why did you tell Mr. Carlton?”

“What?” She looked surprised by my question. I wondered if she were just giving herself time to come up with an answer.

“You told Mr. Carlton!” I said, hissing the words while trying to control my volume and keep others from hearing.

“I did no such thing. You mean he knows?”

“Yes.”

“About yesterday and what you and Marie… well, about what happened?”

“Yes!” I spat the word. She could easily see I was unbelievably pissed.

“Honey, I have no idea how he knows. I didn’t tell him anything. In fact, I only told your mother and Marie’s sister.” I looked at the shock on her face and realized she hadn’t been the one to tell him.

But if not her, then who?

“Then who told?” I asked. “It was so embarrassing!” The tears began to fall.

“Sweetie, I –” Then she stopped. I could tell she knew who had told Mr. Carlton and I wondered if she would share it with me.

Then suddenly, she didn’t have to share the name with me after all. It hit me like a sudden slap in the face exactly who told because he was the only other person who knew.

Mr. Spivey. We always called him Mr. Spidey behind his back, though it never was meant as a connection to the super hero, Spiderman, who sometimes referred to himself as ‘Spidey.’ No, it had been a mean joke, but now it fit perfectly. He was like a creepy spider, lying in wait.

“That bastard!” The words had come from me, not Ms. Patterson, and I didn’t even try to look sorry.

“Shh,” Ms. Patterson said. “I don’t want to have to deal with another disciplinary action with you.” Then she pulled me to her and held my head to her breast as I really began to cry. She stroked my hair and shushed me. I thought how nice she was to do that, and I didn’t even think about her boobs, not even with her left one pressed against my cheek, at least not at that moment.

The bell rang to start her class, and she stuck her head in and said, “Everyone begin reading on page 247. I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, she put her arm around my shoulder and guided me to the front office for the second time in as many days. When we entered, she didn’t even bother to ask to see Mr. Spivey. She simply ushered me into the empty conference room across from his office and knocked rather loudly on his door. Apparently, she was pissed, too.

When there was no reply, she listened and could hear noises. It was as if someone were scrambling to answer the door or something.  Then she checked the doorknob, which wasn’t locked though maybe it should have been, and the door to his office swung open.

From where I was sitting in the conference room, I could see everything. He was seated at his desk, but he wasn’t alone. Ms. Bradshaw, the new, young secretary in the office, was in his lap. Her blouse was open, her bra was undone, and her boobs were there for all of us to see. I have to admit, they were very nice boobs. I wouldn’t have minded sucking them myself, so in a way I didn’t blame Mr. Spivey, though I questioned her taste in men.

He was doing everything he could to get her off his lap, but the desk was in the way. I could see that her skirt was on the floor beside his desk, and she was wearing nothing from the waist down. That’s when I noticed she shaved, or maybe even waxed.

Mr. Spivey was yelling at Ms. Patterson, who was standing there in total shock, telling her to “close the fucking door.” His words, not mine.

Finally, she realized I was also able to see everything because I was no longer crying. I was laughing my ass off. He’d been caught red-handed, and he was married, just not to Ms. Bradshaw.

After Ms. Patterson closed the door and came into the conference room while Mr. Spivey and Ms. Bradshaw composed themselves, she burst into gales of laughter herself.

She sat at the table with me and we continued laughing. It was a very nice moment we shared, actually, and that was when I thought about how her left boob had been pressed to my cheek. I found myself wishing I had taken the time to appreciate it more.

When the two came out of Mr. Spivey’s office, he was all bluster, telling Ms. Patterson she was fired. She looked at him and said, “I don’t think I’m the one who’ll be looking for another job.”

She was right, of course. He was forced to leave or be fired by the board of directors of the school. His office was cleaned out by Monday, and Mr. Jackson, one of the assistant principals, had taken his place temporarily.

The way I figured it, Old Spidey deserved it. If he hadn’t shared with other teachers what Marie and I had done, we wouldn’t have been at his office in the first place, and he and the cute Ms. Bradshaw with the nice titties and bald pussy could have continued their fling. He lost his job, and his wife filed for divorce. I heard later that Ms. Bradshaw moved in with him, so I guess he got something out of the whole episode. What she got I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to know.

Good riddance, I say, though I still occasionally thought about Ms. Bradshaw being mostly naked.

When Mom picked Marie and me up after school, Jenna was already with her. Marie and I were still laughing about the image of Mr. Spivey with Ms. Bradshaw sitting in his lap as they fumbled to get “decent.” Maybe that was possible for Ms. Bradshaw, but in my mind Mr. Spivey would never be decent. Marie, of course, hadn’t seen it, but my descriptions were very accurate.

I told Mom and Jenna about it, and they laughed too. Marie and I had laughed so much, we no longer cared that Mr. Carlton, and who knows who else, knew about Marie and me. In fact, I was thinking about flaunting it to our math teacher on Monday, even though I knew I never would. It was just a fantasy.

********

As we sat at dinner that night eating spaghetti and meatballs, a salad, and bread, I let Mom know that Marie and I had grown close enough to tell her about us. I included that I knew about Marie and her sisters, so that way Mom knew I wasn’t telling just anyone about us. I could tell Mom thought Marie was pretty. In fact, I could tell she would love to have sex with her sometime if Marie were willing. I didn’t tell Marie about Mom’s desire for her, but I think she knew anyway.

When we went to bed, Jenna was already in bed in her room, which was fine. I wanted some time alone with Marie first. Then I planned to go wake up Jenna to join us. I could tell she wanted to sleep with us, but Mom had said to her last night that she should wait to be invited, that Marie and I would probably want to be alone the first night together. She was right, but not completely. We did plan on inviting her into my room after we had fooled around some, even though that’s not how it turned out.

I closed my bedroom door and made sure my curtain was closed all the way, something I had developed a habit of doing since Gwen had caught all of us together. That could have ended much differently than it did. Thank goodness it turned Gwen on to see us like that.

Facing Marie, I smiled shyly. I’m not sure why I was shy, actually. It wasn’t as if the entire night hadn’t already been planned, though not in detail. She knew I wanted to lick her pussy, and I knew she wanted to lick mine. It was just the in-between that was not decided. But I definitely had butterflies. I was feeling rather odd, in fact.

Marie, being even bolder than me, stepped up and took me in her arms. She stared into my eyes for a moment before closing the short distance between us and her lips met mine. I found her lips to be so supple they reminded me of warm cotton. It was almost like kissing the soft inside of a warm sponge cake, but even more delicious.

I opened my mouth and she snaked her tongue in and slid it around mine. Our tongues danced together in a slow, erotic rhythm. We weren’t rushed. We knew we had all the time we wanted to take. I felt a little bit like a bride on her wedding night, in fact. And that’s when I realized I was falling in love with Marie. I also recognized this was why I was nervous and shy.

I had always loved Deanna, but she was more of a close, special friend. I was sure she felt the same way about me. We weren’t “in love” with each other.

This, however, was different. I was falling in love for the first time. First loves are special because it’s the first time you have romantic feelings about another person. I wanted to be with her every minute of every day.

As we kissed, I wondered whether I should tell her. I didn’t know how she felt about me. If she was just having fun, saying something would ruin our night together before it ever began. On the other hand, if she loved me too, it would make the night even better.

I was confused and not just a little horny. I was grinding my hips against hers, rubbing our pussies together and relishing the tingles that were being translated into shivers through our intimate contact.

She reached down and grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and lifted it over my head. I giggled when it caught my hair and pulled it up on top of my head as the shirt came off. Then her hands were at my shorts, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper. She had worn a jumper that day, and I unbuttoned the shoulder straps and allowed the garment to fall in a puddle onto the floor.

As she pushed my shorts to the floor to join her jumper, I started tugging on the hem of her t-shirt. She raised her arms and I removed it. At some point she had removed her bra, but I didn’t know when. She had definitely had one at school that day because I’d noticed the outline of the straps beneath her t-shirt. Now, however, she was naked except for her panties, as was I. I guessed she must have removed it when she’d gone to the bathroom earlier that evening. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that or sad. I had looked forward to peeling it off to expose her boobs, but then again, it was nice not to have to fool with the hooks.

We embraced again, our lips meeting in another kiss, sinking into soft flesh as they met. We kissed and danced to a music only we seemed to hear. We shared a slow dance, swaying to the rhythms of our bodies that made unique music in our minds.

The kiss ended, and I leaned back a bit to look at her, to absorb her beauty into my soul. I would not do this again for years when I met the one true love of my life, but this was the first time I did this. It was actually a conscious decision. I wanted just to look at her and hope she loved me as much as I loved her.

When I pulled back to look at her, though, I noticed her eyes were filled with tears. Seeing this, my own eyes welled up and ran a stream down my right cheek. She grinned at me, causing a tear to tumble down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. I grinned back. She sighed, I sighed.

Then, being the bolder one, she said, “My God! I love you!”

I could feel her heart beating a solid rhythm against her ribs, and therefore against mine, too. I saw the fear in her eyes. She had braved the first utterance of these words that can bind or cleave. I loved her for that, too.

I knew she was waiting for me to respond with my own confession, but I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t speak for a moment. I was so taken by the moment, so thrilled in my new love, this emotion that both suffocated and revived, that I hesitated. She was smart enough to wait me out, though. Perhaps my feelings were in my look, as they had been for some time now without either of us realizing it.

“Oh, God, Marie. I love you, too!”

We kissed again, this time with more passion than tenderness, though the tenderness remained beneath the heat.

She let her hands whisper down my sides to my panties. Goose-bumps trailed in her fingers’ wake. Sliding her thumbs into the elastic that held them up, she nudged the only covering left on my body down over my hips, pushing them far enough to allow them to drop and join my shorts. I returned the favor, and we stood together now, naked with each other for the first time.

Inside me a yearning grew into an obsession. I wanted her to lie on me and rub her mound against mine. I wanted our clits to kiss. I wanted to feel her juices running into my own pussy. Then I wanted to be on top of her and allow my own fluids of love to drip down onto her pussy. I thought about how guys in old movies became “blood brothers” by cutting themselves and allowing their blood to mingle. I thought of this when I pictured our juices flowing together, mingling into one nectar. The phrase “honey sisters” occurred to me. I would have laughed, but I was too turned on right then.

Even though I was only thirteen, I wanted this night to last forever. I never wanted the sun to rise again, leaving us in a perpetual night that would never become tomorrow. Later, I told this to Marie. She understood my feelings perfectly and I loved her for that too.

Breaking our latest kiss, I moved us toward my bed. Lying down, I looked at this girl I was so in love with that I wanted no part of tomorrow. Then I pulled her down onto my outstretched body. She understood and we pressed our pussies together. I felt my clit responding to the pressure, and I could sense her own reaction to the touch of my mound.

My hands cupped her gorgeous butt and pulled her into me, as her hands went to my breasts and toyed with them. Our bodies seemed to melt into one as we thrashed against each other and kissed wildly.

I used my weight to turn us over, and suddenly I was on top, grinding my body into hers as her thrusts met mine. Soon we spun again and we were in a different position. She was sitting up and pressing her slit down onto mine, tribbing as she jerked her hips to a sensual rhythm, masturbating herself against my pussy as I did the same to hers. We both seemed frantic with the need to climax.

Then, within seconds, we were coming. The orgasm that had been building all day through the tension, the problems, the worries, the humiliations.

The glances, the winks, the smiles, the love.

The culmination of so much affection and experience spread throughout our bodies and seemed to bind us together like glue.

The climax became the universe. It seared our minds with ecstasy, and we heaved out the gasps of delight and wonder as we made love.

Finally, she collapsed on top of me, held me tightly, and kissed me…

…as if there was no tomorrow.

I held her and whispered, “I’ve never been in love before. I’ve loved, but I’ve not been IN love.”

“Me neither,” she sighed. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Totally,” I said, grinning like the schoolgirl I was.

We lay there for a while, absorbing the love of the other, kissing casually, and cooling off before starting it all over again.

This time I wanted to taste her and have her taste me. I’d wanted it since we’d masturbated together in the same bathroom stall at school on Thursday. Maybe even earlier. Then it occurred to me that Thursday had only been yesterday. So much had happened I was shocked it had been so recent.

Without saying anything, I moved my body so that we were face to crotch. Her pussy was magnificent, the outer labia as smooth as those on the inside since she’d shaved herself bare. I hoped she liked mine half as much at least. That would have been plenty, since I adored hers.

Soon, we were feasting on the other, licking up the sweet honey that dripped from our vaginas and filling ourselves with the love we felt.

We did this for some time, though I have no idea how long it went on. We ended up coming, of course, more or less at the same time again.

We put off getting Jenna after that. We were too tired. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, our foreheads touching. I wanted her to be the last thing I saw as I fell asleep, and the first thing I saw when I awoke. We could have fun with Jenna in the morning.

As tired as we were, we still talked well into the night as we drifted off. We talked of our love and how much it had surprised us. We talked about her sisters and how that started. I told her about Jenna’s mother Cindy and how we were paying a private detective to find her.

Then she finally told me that her mother was involved with her and her sisters, too, the last revelation to seal our lives forever. Our views and experiences were so similar, we seemed destined to be together.

Of course, it wouldn’t last forever. Nothing does, but we were young then and knew no better. And at thirteen we fall in love so easily. Still, it has lasted as a relationship, even when the romantic love died, though I knew we would cherish it and the memories forever.

But that first love can be, in some ways, the strongest. For while Marie and I are no longer IN love as adults, we still love each other. And that’s okay, too.

Continue on to Chapter 32

 

No comments on I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 31

  1. Max says:

    There’s nothing sweeter than young love! Lovely scene 🙂

    Exciting too of course 😉

    Looking forward to them sharing Jenna together!

  2. kim says:

    we just don’t have enough words for how great and wonderful this chapter is. Just what we needed so bad, thanks

  3. Evan says:

    Glad Spidey got what was coming to him, and hoping for more still with ms. Patterson. But the love scene in the bedroom! Oh, my. That was a good scene. So good, I’ve got to go finish myself off in a more private location…

  4. Poppabear or PoppaClyde2 says:

    Some of you know I like to take the ‘box set’ approach to these long family sagas of Cheryl and Naughty Mommy, so that’s why I’m dragging you all back to Chapter 31, and, I like to pay careful attention to the text, and the use of idioms (which might make me seem like an idiot).

    In the UK, as all the readers in this benighted island know, a jumper, in clothing terms, is a knitted top of some kind made of wool, cotton or synthetic yarn, and can have sleeves or none and is worn by women, children and men. It;s also known as a sweater, just to complicate matters. But in the US, from the details in Chapter 31, a jumper is something else.

    I think I know what it is but I’d like Cheryl, or anyone who has a detailed knowledge of female apparel (all of you) to tell this ol’ guy what Marie was wearing to school in Chapter 31.

    • A jumper (in American English), pinafore dress or informally pinafore (British English), is a sleeveless, collarless dress intended to be worn over a blouse, shirt or sweater. In British English, the term jumper describes what is called a sweater in American English.

      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jumper_(dress) 😀

      • Poppabear or PoppaClyde2 says:

        I was wrong in my guess about the US jumper as I had imagined something like dungarees (which sounds a wee bit Indian, as in British Empire in India).

        Thank you NM, pinafore, in these circumstances, is even better.

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