Archive-name: Casual/jackjill.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Boredom of Jack and Jill





Jack spotted Jill at the party.  She had a bland face, medium

small breasts, and fair skin.  He would have called it pale, but

he was feeling charitable.  He decided that she was just ugly

enough that she would probably be desperate, and just good look-

ing enough that she would probably be an OK lay.



"Hey babe, want to dance?" he asked, in a melancholy voice.



"Sure, why not?" she said.



So they began to dance.  She wasn't a great dancer.  She just

kind of kept shaking her arms and legs the same way, over and

over again.  After a while, he felt the way you feel after you've

seen the same commercial too many times, that feeling of "Oh, I

know what is going to happen next, but my brain is too dead to

care."  Ho hum, he thought.  But he knew that you had to dance at

least three dances with a woman before you could seduce her, so

he tolerated it.



The second dance was even more boring than the first.  The music

switched from rock to reggae, but her dancing hardly changed at

all.  He started counting beer cups in people hands, while he

danced, just for something to do.  He had counted 112 by the time

the dance ended.  "Great, only one more dance to go, he thought."



The next dance was a slow dance.  A lot of parties never put on

slow dances, but this one did, and Jack was very happy, because

he didn't think he could take a third fast dance with her monoto-

nous rhythm.



He looked at her, when the slow music started, wondering if she

was ready for slow dancing.  She had that same look in her eyes

that he had seen hundreds of times before, that look that says

"Go ahead, put your arms around me and start dancing.  Have I got

something better to do?"  So he did.  And her rhythm was defi-

nitely different this time, finally.  Now, she basically just

stood there, kind of wobbling back and forth a little.  And now

he realized how much he hated slow songs, because they just went

on, and on.  It was a slow love song, just like so many love

songs he had heard before.  This one was worse than many, howev-

er, because it was one of the ones that was currently getting too

much play on the radio.



Finally, the song ended, and, holding her hand, he led her off

the dance floor.  He tried to think of a clever line, but then

decided he didn't need one.  "Hey, what's your name?" he asked.



"I'm Jill," she said.



"Yah, and I'm Jack."  They would have laughed, but both of them

had heard so many Jack and Jill jokes in their lives, that nei-

ther even found this real life coincidence at all funny.



'So, I bet now he's going to ask me to go for a walk with him.

Why do guys always use the same lines?' she thought to herself.



"So, Jill, want to go for a walk?  It's a beautiful evening."



'Well,' she thought, 'at least a walk will be more fun than this

party.  I wonder why all parties seem alike?  The only thing

which wasn't totally average about this party was the slow dance,

and I don't even like to slow dance.'  "Sure," she said, "where

are we going to walk to?  Your place, I suppose, right?"  She'd

been asked on too many walks not to already know the destination.



"Yah," he said.



Now that she was pretty sure he wanted to seduce her, she decided

to appraise him.  5' 9", brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly

athletic or well dressed; but no body odor, no zits, and his hair

was combed.  She would take what she could get.  "Let's go."



The walk to Jack's place was too long.  The party had been at one

of the river houses, but both Jack and Jill lived in the Quad,

away from the main campus.  They had gone up to the river houses

because, as usual, the quad was dead that weekend: only one

party, and it was lame.  They walked up Garden Street, back to

Currier House.  It was a walk both of them took every day, at

least twice a day, and both of them found it pretty wearying by

now.  They went through the standard conversation about majors,

year of graduation, etc.  but neither was really paying atten-

tion; they had asked and answered the questions so many times

before.



When they got back to Jack's room, Jill was not very impressed.

Currier was one of the newer, more modern dormitories, and all of

the rooms were pretty similar.  Jack had not done much to distin-

guish his.



"So," Jill said, "how do you usually seduce women?"  She was

feeling very direct.



"Usually, I try something with backrubs, but the last ten women

I've seduced, I've given backrubs, and I'm tired of it What do

guys usually try on you?"



"They usually ask me if I want a backrub," she said.



There was what would have been an awkward pause, if either of

them had really cared.  Jack tried to think of something more

interesting than a back rub He considered nude twister, but

wasn't quite sure how someone would go about playing that exact-

ly, without a third person to spin the spinner.  He thought about

getting out his copy of the 5000 question purity test, but found

himself falling asleep at just the thought.



Finally, he said "Want a back rub?"



"Sure," she said, lying down on his bed.



Slowly, he massaged her back, through her shirt.  After about ten

minutes, her shirt started to ride up, intentionally, and he

began to actually massage her skin directly.  Eventually, he

began massaging around her bra strap, and then clumsily unsnapped

it.



'Thank God,' she thought.  It was taking forever.  He gave an

average backrub, but she had never really been into back rubs

anyway.  Eventually, his hands went lower and lower, and he was

touching the sides of her breasts, and then the front, and then

the nipples.  'Pretty predictable,' she thought.



Finally, she turned over, and they began kissing, and undressing.

She had a mediocre body, too much flab, but so did he.  Neither

of them became particularly passionate, but both found the ca-

ressing vaguely enjoyable.



Slowly, his hand worked its way down to her vagina, and it was,

of course, slightly moist.  He fingered her and sucked her tits

for a few minutes.  Then, foreplay out of the way, he put on a

condom, and they had sex in the missionary position.  He wasn't

very good, not giving enough clitoral stimulation.  She decided

to just lie back, and think of England.  She had never been

there, so there wasn't very much to think about, but it was more

interesting than the half hearted attempts of Jack, lying on top

of her.  Eventually, Jack sped up his pumping.  Faster and fast-

er.  'Great,' she thought, 'he's almost finished.'  When he came,

spurting into the condom for a few seconds, she faked her orgasm.

He wasn't fooled by her faking, but he didn't really care.



--