Chapter 1
New Haana, New Jersey is nothing like the tank farm and smoke factory cities which surround New York. It has as much in common with Elizabeth, Newark and Jersey City as these cities have in common with, perhaps, Manly, Iowa. That New Haana happens to cover a portion of the state which boasts the densest population per square mile of any state in the United States, is sheer coincidence.
This is the story of New Haana, as much as it is the story of illicit and apocalyptic sex among the post baby boom generation.
It is the story of life in rural New Jersey. Rural New Jersey suffers a peculiar reputation, or rather, it has no reputation at all, nationally and that is very interesting, indeed.
In a state which looms in the national imagination as nothing more than a way station between New York and Philadelphia, rural areas tend to be overlooked. What people know about New Jersey is that it is a strip of asphalt that begins the moment you cross the New York-New Jersey border, by car.
New Jersey is a strip of asphalt and it is a collection of Dairy Queen stands and Ethan Allen Carpet stores and Dinettes.
People know other things about New Jersey. It is a suburb of New York City. It is Sausalito or Orange County, California. It is a suburb of Philadelphia. It is one long roadway, the New Jersey Turnpike and has been immortalized by Paul Simon. It is Atlantic City and the Mafia and gambling casinos.
It is where Bruce Springsteen comes from.
These are among the many things people know about New Jersey and none of them has anything at all to do with New Haana. New Haana is not a suburb of New York, nor is it a suburb of Philadelphia and few of the people who live there have ever been to Asbury Park.
New Haana is a small, rural town in the northwestern section of the state, closest to Pennsylvania than to New York.
People who live in New Haana sometimes go to Princeton to see movies, because there is no movie theater in New Haana.
On Sunday, people from New Haana go to malls, in places like Woodbridge and Carteret. That is usually about as close as many of them ever get to New York City.
Few of the residents of New Haana ever think about Philadelphia, although it is just as close to New Haana as New York. Some of them listen to Philadelphia radio stations, or buy Philadelphia newspapers and a few have relatives in places like Penn Sauken and Camden. But no one knows that Walt Whitman died in Camden. And no one has ever heard of William Carlos Williams, although a few old timers cling to the fact that Frank Sinatra was born in Hoboken.
Some of the people in New Haana remember the year the Lindbergh kidnapping trial took place in nearby Flemington and the Union Hotel where many of the reporters who covered the case resided is still a fixture in downtown Flemington.
Yet New Haana is a fluid community and most of the people who live there stay there long enough for their children to go away to college and then they move to other places. Florida. Connecticut. Cape May.
New Haana has a past, but not very many people remember it and few people care.
They are interested in going there to get adolescence over with, or middle age and then they leave and about two dozen natives watch them come and go. The natives work in places like the Post Office, or as the Elementary School nurse and most of them look old, yet they never seem to die.
In short, New Haana is a rural American town which happens to be in New Jersey.
The area was originally settled by Dutch and later, by German Protestants.
It lies within the network of towns and cities and farm land which make up the American Northeast. The area is heterogeneous in every way. Religious diversity is greater in the Northeast than in any other region in the country. The area is truly a melting pot.
New Haana still clings stubbornly to its particular Dutch Reformed roots and there is still a law on the books which prohibits dancing on Sundays and the town has never had a movie theater because the succeeding councils have never taken the time out to change certain of the town's blue laws.
New Haana is not a small town. People can maintain their anonymity and since the new high school was built in a neighboring township, the students from New Haana tend to get lost in the crowd of young boys and girls who come from various sending districts to attend Lockwood Gorge High School.
To many of the young people who live, in New Haana, Lockwood Gorge represents freedom.
Upon graduation from the New Haana Elementary School, they enter the high school and become one among two thousand five hundred students who attend Lockwood Gorge.
They mingle in among the farmers and the greasers and the freaks and the jocks and jockettes and the theater fags and the Audio Visual nerds and the brains and they find that no one is watching them as carefully as they were watched in New Haana.
And they find a measure of freedom.
Sexual freedom. And to Leslie Bodant, sexual freedom meant every kind of freedom in the world. An anomaly among the girls who grew up in New Haana, Leslie became immediately successful as a freshman at Lockwood Gorge High. She joined the cheer leading squad. Out of a hundred girls who auditioned for the squad, Leslie made the varsity team, in her freshman year, unseating a returning varsity cheerleader and senior member of the squad, Jerri Hall.
This is the story of New Haana and it is the story of Jerri Hall and Leslie Bodant. They were the two most popular girls who had ever come out of New Haana and they were rivals. Leslie was a freshman. She was on the varsity cheerleading squad. She was the apple of every football player's eye. She was the bulge in each of their crotches. She was the new kid on the block, the girl wonder, the latest sensation. And she was a star fucker. A terrible, terrible star fucker. Jerri was a senior and she had carefully worked her way up the Lockwood High ladder, starting out on the freshman cheerleading squad, graduating to the junior varsity squad and finally making it to the varsity squad in her junior year. At the beginning of her senior year, she lost her place on the squad to Leslie Bodant. The girls both came from New Haana, and they were complete opposites. Leslie was brassy and loud and extroverted. Jerri was prim and shy and quiet.
Leslie came on like a tiger. She was short-merely five feet two inches tall-and built like a steam roller. She had enormous breasts, for her size and physique. They were big, ripe breasts and they looked like twin melons.
She had short legs and she walked like a man and she had a hysterical laugh. Jerri was tall and thin and she had fine bones and long, straight brown hair which she often wore in pigtails. Her breasts were small and high and firm. Yet the difference between the two girls was quite simple: Leslie went down. Jerri did not. Jerri belonged to the choir and she was always in the chorus for the spring musical and she belonged to the Honor Society and she was fifth in the class. She took advanced science and math courses and she wanted to go to college and study astronomy. She was the class historian and the editor of the school newspaper.
In every way, she was a model student, a model girl and a model American. She was also tight and dry and terminally virginal. If she had not joined the cheerleading squad, she would still have her hymen. Leslie belonged to no clubs. She participated in no activities. She sent away to shady organizations for fake identification so that she could get into bars. She smoked pot on the weekends and thought a lot about getting all the hot studs on the football team up between her legs.
She discovered masturbation when she was nine and she played with herself furiously three or four times a day, often ducking into a lavatory stall to have a quick thrill between classes. She took home economics courses and metal shop and remedial reading. She was very, very bright and she knew how to play dumb. The girls were the two most popular on the entire campus and they were the only girls from New Haana to achieve this distinction. New Haana was proud of them and they were proud of themselves and they could not stand each other. They could not stand each other, mostly because of the incident of the varsity cheerleading squad.
Leslie's appointment to the varsity squad was unprecedented and Jerri hotly contested it. Having worked her way up from the bottom, she did not see that some upstart should be handed a place on the squad on a silver platter.
She had nothing against Leslie, personally, she stressed. Yet in principle, she objected. She objected very strongly. "Now, Chrissy," she said to the co-captain. "You know we can't lower our standards like this and go around accepting freshmen for the varsity squad. A spot on the squad is something special. We all worked for it. I worked for it. No matter how good the girl is, she ought to learn her place and work up from the bottom like the rest of us. Otherwise we'll cheapen the status of the squad."
Jerri spoke with conviction. Her fists clenched and her voice shook with emotion. "Oh, come on, Jerri, don't be such a straight arrow, will you?" Chrissy said. She looked at the seven other girls who sat in a circle. They had just voted on the new members of the team and they chose juniors and seniors and Leslie Bodant. Jerri was incensed. "I don't care how good she is," Jerri said. "She's a freshman." She looked around at her friends. They didn't care how good Leslie was, either. In fact, they all knew that Leslie was not very good at all.
But she was useful. She knew boys and she knew how to get her hands on some really fine Columbian dope and an occasional gram of hash. She could get into all the bars and she cut class consistently and never got caught. She knew how to give terrific head. To the members of the varsity cheerleading squad at Lockwood Gorge High School, she was indispensable.
To Chrissy, the co captain, she was more than indispensable. She was promised. Chrissy promised her a place on the squad. She promised it in exchange for the kind of sex she thought girls could never have. Leslie ate her out, but good and now she simply had to put her on the squad. Chrissy thought about that. She thought about Leslie eating her out. She liked to think about it. It was almost better in reflection than it had been at the time.
Leslie ran up to her out behind the girls' gym one afternoon. Chrissy had been practicing outside with the other girls on the squad and she was alone outside. Leslie followed the girls around all day. She had to get one of them to convince the rest to pick her for the squad. She wanted two boys on the football team and she wanted them very badly and she knew that the best way to the quarterback's cock was through the varsity cheerleading squad. She had to get on the squad.
She knew that Chrissy was the most influential. Chrissy and Jerri Hall were the co-captains. She ruled out Jerri. They were both from New Haana and they were popular in the town and they were more or less rivals.
But Chrissy. Leslie thought the girl could use a good workout. And she knew how to give her one. "Hi," she said, the day she ran up to Chrissy. "Hi," Chrissy said. She was used to having lots of admirers run up to her all the time and she ignored Leslie. "I'm Leslie Bodant. One of my friends is on the squad."
"Oh, really?" Chrissy said. "Jerri Hall. We're both from New Haana. I want to be on the squad, too." Chrissy tossed her long, blonde hair and tried to dismiss the girl. She couldn't dismiss her breasts, that much was for sure. They were so big and the rest of her was so small.
Chrissy envied her those breasts. Leslie caught her looking at her. She knew how to get to the point. "You want to fuck?" she said. Chrissy looked at her. She really did not know what to say.
"Of course you want to," Leslie said. "Everybody does."
She grabbed Chrissy's hand and dragged the girl up the hill towards the girls' gym. Chrissy pulled away from her hand. "You want to go out in the woods?" Leslie said. She turned from the girls' gym and pulled Chrissy back down the hill. They ran out into a cornfield that lay alongside the school. "This good?" Leslie said. Chrissy was out of breath. The girl was very strong and she had not really been able to object. Now, before she could get in a word, Leslie put her arms around Chrissy's waist and she plunged her tongue deep into the girl's, mouth. He tongue went far back into the girl's mouth and she flicked the tip of her tongue at her soft palate.
Their tongues slurped together and their lips puckered. Chrissy tried to resist, but Leslie held her very hard and her grip was insistent and her tongue was knowing. Chrissy could not resist because she really did not want to. She could feel the fluids warming up inside her cunt, like a refrigerator defrosting, when all the ice melts and drips down off the walls of the refrigerator. Chrissy's cunt was defrosting. She did not know what to say and to Leslie's credit, she was not given much of a chance to say anything. Leslie licked and sucked at her tongue and her lips and she pressed her hips hard up against the girl's groin. Chrissy was wet through the panties of her little practice uniform. She moaned and she shivered and she wanted it.
Leslie pulled down Chrissy's panties. She stuck her head up into the girl's cunt, up under the skirt of Chrissy's practice uniform. Chrissy stood still, among the corn stalks, with her panties down to her knees and Leslie's face up under her skirt. Leslie went knowingly to work on the girl's cunt. She parted her spongy lips. Chrissy had big, swollen, spongy lips and they parted easily. They were covered with soft, yellow down and they were moist and hot.
Leslie held the lips apart and she squeezed them. She pinched them and squeezed them and held them open and then grabbed the smaller, inner lips which guarded Chrissy's cunt and kneaded them. She kneaded these inner lips and they were even moister than the outer lips and they were smaller and hotter. She tasted them. She slid her tongue around the edges of the girl's inner lips and tasted them.
They tasted salty and good and they were wet and warm and wonderful. Chrissy moaned. "Oh," she said. "Oh my God." Her face was pale and her knees buckled. She felt Leslie slide her tongue over the edges of her lips and Leslie's tongue was scaled and rough like a cat's tongue. She had a cat at home, Prudence and sometimes she let Prudence lick the backs of her fingers and Leslie's tongue was like Prudence's, only it was much bigger and thicker and wet and wonderful, and of course, Prudence had never licked her cunt.
Never had the pussy licked her pussy. As Leslie drove her tongue over and over her lips, Chrissy wondered why she had never let the cat lick her there. She thought about that. She thought she might be able to teach her. Leslie's teeth brought her out of her day dream. Leslie sunk her teeth into Chrissy's clit. "Oh," Chrissy shouted. Her knees buckled. She put her hands on Leslie's shoulders, to hold herself up. She could feel Leslie's teeth all over her clit. Leslie ran her teeth up and down the girl's clit, from the base to the tip. She nibbled it like she might have nibbled a chicken bone, to strip all the spare meat from it. Chrissy's hips gyrated and her face got hot and she dug her palms into Leslie's shoulders. Twinges of pleasure shot' through her cunt and up into her ass.
Leslie pushed her face hard up into Chrissy and shoved her tongue all the way back into the girl's cunt. She tapped at the back wall of Chrissy's cunt and she nibbled and licked and sucked. She held back the girl's lips with her hands and she kneaded the lips with her fingers and she slurped at the juices inside Chrissy's cunt.
Chrissy moaned. Tears streamed down her face. She played with her lips sometimes, but she had never come and she had never searched very far up into herself She had certainly never fingered her clit. She was only vaguely aware that it existed. Leslie introduced her to her clit. She lashed it with her tongue and licked it and nibbled it. She kneaded Chrissy's lips and lapped up her juices and darted her tongue deep into her cunt.
Chrissy was ready to come. Her muscles contracted and her hips and her ass were very tight and her thighs ached and she dug her fingers into Leslie's back. Leslie pulled away. "Oh," Chrissy said. "Please, don't stop. Don't leave me here. Finish me off, please." Leslie looked up at her. "I want a spot on the varsity squad," she said.
Chrissy blushed even deeper than she already had. Her hips quivered and her fists clenched. "Oh," Chrissy said. "Oh, oh."
"Put me on the squad and I'll finish you off," she said. Chrissy tried to relax. She tried to calm down her muscles and her clit and her lips and her body. But she could not. "Oh, yes," she yelled. "Yes, yes. I'll do what I can. Just please, please finish me off." Leslie finished her off. She finished her off so hard, that Chrissy had screamed loudly enough to be overheard by the cross country team, as they took their laps around the outdoor track on the other side of the school building. She screamed so loud she almost shattered glass. And she had chosen Leslie to be on the squad. Chrissy wondered how many of the other girls Leslie had bargained with. She looked at her seven squad mates. She knew she had plied some of them with drugs and others of them with boys, or with alcohol. She suspected that Jerri Hall was the only girl on the squad whom Leslie had not approached. She looked at Jerri and listened to her complaints and she decided there was only one thing to do. "If you don't like it, Jerri," she said, "then we can use Leslie to replace you and you can find another squad." Several of the girls gasped, but no one objected and Jerri looked straight at Chrissy. They had been friends and she did not believe that her friend could now betray her like this. And for that very reason, she said, "Alright." She wanted to see if Chrissy meant it. And Chrissy did. Jerri Hall was off the team and Leslie Bodant was on and the greatest rivalry in the history of Lockwood Gorge High School had only just begun.