Baby Girl - Part Two
By Wanderer
Coming of age.


This is adult material. Please do not read if your are under age 18 or laws in
your country forbid you to do so.

Copyright 2008 By Wanderer.

And so prom night found Janelle approaching the home address that Jack had
given her. Since Nerd Boy didn't drive she had offered to pick him up. Not a
big deal, she concluded. So prom night found her driving her 1975 Chevelle,
looking for the address that Jack had given her. Pretty ritzy neighborhood,
she mused. Not exactly my barrio. Hell, I can put on a big show tonight,
pretending I'm the upper crust. My people are going to die. I'll be a big
snob. Yes, my date lives in a gated community. They'll all crap.

Janelle drove up to what she thought was the address. But the house was
absolutely enormous. Not a house really, more like a mansion. So she kept
going, but the home address numbers kept going up, past the one that Jack had
given her. Damn, doesn't this nerd know his own home address? Better turn
around, she thought, I must have passed it.

So back Janelle went, retracing her steps. No, same thing. The address at the
roadside was the same Jack had given her. Dumb boy doesn't know his own home
address, she mused. How can you be a genius and not know your home address?
Well, maybe that's not so unusual. Geniuses don't always pay attention to
small details, like home addresses.

But now Janelle was desperate. A new prom dress, a new hairdo, her single
mother had invested a lot of money to make sure her only daughter had a
perfect night that she would always remember, and here she wouldn't even have
an escort, and without an escort she wouldn't go, it was just too embarrassing
to her to have to show up alone. Her black brothers would laugh their fool
heads off.

Janelle stopped again and checked the address Jack had given her. Nope, it was
the same as the address curbside of that huge gated and high walled estate.
She could kick herself. Why hadn't she gotten Jack's home phone number so she
could call in case she got lost? Well, too late. Janelle now thought maybe
Jack had given her the wrong address on purpose. After all, why would a white
boy want to be seen escorting a black girl to her Senior Prom?

In desperation Janelle drove up to the front of the massive gate blocking
entrance to the huge estate that had the address Jack had given her. Maybe
they would know where the Jeffers family lived. As she got closer she could
see it wasn't really a mansion, it was more like a castle. Luckily there was a
call box located to the driver's side of the gate, so she rang the call bell.

A very authoritative voice responded after a few seconds delay. "May I ask who
is calling, please?"

Janelle was taken aback by the firm tone of the voice. It was something like
being interrogated by the cops. "Oh, I'm nobody," she answered, demurely. "I'm
sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know if you've heard of a Jack Jeffers
who's supposed to live around here. Please."

"Yes, I am acquainted with that person. May I inquire as to your business with
said personage?"

"Oh, he was supposed to take my to my Senior Prom," she said, a weepy tone now
creeping into her voice. "I guess that's it for me," and now she began to cry
openly.

The imperious voice at the end of the call box line softened in response.
"Yes, Miss, this is the guard service. Master Jack informed us that we should
expect you. Please enter. The front gate will swing open in exactly three
seconds. You are required to pass within in fifteen seconds, after which the
front gate will close with possible damage to your motor vehicle."

"You mean Jack Jeffers lives HERE?" Janelle asked, incredulously.

"Why of course, Miss," the guard responded. "Master Jack is awaiting your
arrival."

As promised, the front gate swung open in three seconds and Janelle drove up
the quarter-mile long driveway to stop in front of the mansion, just behind a
shiney Rolls Royce already parked there. An attendant opened her car door and
helped her out of her dilapidated old car. Janelle looked around in awe. This
was like a dream world. She felt like Cinderella, arriving at the castle to
pick up her Prince Charming. Well, maybe the order was a little reversed from
the fable, but hell, it was a new world now, why shouldn't Cinderella pick up
Prince Charming, especially if Prince Charming doesn't drive?

Janelle picked up the bottom hem of her ball gown and climbed the long flight
of stairs to the massive front door. No need to ring a doorbell, a sensor
sensed her presence and rang a chime within the building. Just a few seconds
wait and the butler opens the front door. The butler says, "I'm sorry, madam,
you must have the wrong address."

"Oh," a crestfallen Janelle said. "The voice at the gate said Jack Jeffers
lives here. I guess he snookered me."

"Ma'am," the butler said, "Master Jack does live here, but he is engaged this
evening. He is awaiting the arrival of his companion for the evening's
festivities, a Ms. Stevens, so regrettably he has no time for a sales call."

"I'm not here to sell anything," a more upbeat Janelle said. "I'm Ms.
Stevens," a big smile now replacing the frown on her beautiful face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ms. Stevens, please enter. I'm very pleased to meet you. Master
Jack doesn't receive many female visitors so you are very welcome here. Mr.
and Mrs. Jeffers have asked that I invite you in so that they may have the
pleasure of making your acquaintance. Let me inform the upstairs butler that
you have arrived. Master Jack and the family are waiting to receive you in the
library."

Janelle was astounded. "You have a library here?" she questioned.

"Of course," the ground floor butler said.

"Do you have a lot of library members?" Janelle asked.

"Oh, no, ma'am, just the family. This is a private library, for family use
only."

"A family has their own library? You're pulling my leg," she giggled.

"Well, ma'am, you can decide for yourself. The upstairs butler has arrived to
escort you. It was so nice meeting you. I hope I will have the pleasure again
sometime in the future."

"You can count on it, I could get used to this," she smiled.

"I shall eagerly await your return," the downstairs butler responded.

"Right this way," James, the upstairs butler said, as he led the way up the
bifurcated stairway. "Please be careful. These marble steps can be very
slippery."

Janelle lifted her long formal skirt so as to not catch her high heels in the
hem. "Lead on, James," she said.

"This is only a formality," James said, "but do you have a calling card so
that I may present you to the family, Ms. Stevens?"

"No, I don't use a calling card, I use a cell phone, James. Do you need to
call before you get to the library?"

The upper floor butler gave Janelle a quizzical look, then his face
brightened. "Oh, Ms. Stevens, you have a delightful sense of humor. I hope we
will have the pleasure of your company again soon. And here we are now."

James opened the door to a massive room containing shelves and shelves of
books reaching up to the ceiling. Indeed, so high that there were ladders
along the left and right walls so that tomes higher up were accessible. In the
center of the room was a large beautiful antique walnut table with a massive
array of flowers on it, surrounded by three leather covered chairs,
undoubtedly one for each member of the family. As the butler and Janelle
entered the room the butler announced, "Mr. and Mrs. Jeffers, I have the honor
of presenting to you Miss Stevens." When seeing Janelle enter the room Jack
rose from his chair and rushed to Janelle's side. "Hi," he said, "did you have
any trouble finding the place?"

"Well, you could have given me better clues," Janelle said. "Like maybe a
castle sitting on top of a hill," she giggled. In response Jack gives her a
playful punch in the ribs, amazed at the solid feel he encounters, and giggles
along with her.

Jack takes Janelle's hand and he says "Come meet my parents."

Hand in hand they advance towards the center of the room and a distinguished
looking gentleman arises from one of the chairs, and turns toward the young
couple. "My, what a lovely looking young lady you are. You remind me of Lena
Horne, my dear, someone before your time. Maybe a cross betweeen Lena Horne
and Beyonce, to bring the reference up to date."

"Why thank you kind sir," Janelle said. "That is a very nice complement." Jack
beamed at his father's approval of his date, and said to Janelle, "And now I'd
like to introduce you to my mother." Jack and his father moved aside so that
Mrs. Jeffers and Janelle could see each other.

As Mrs. Jeffers got her first good look at Janelle the distinguished looking
lady dropped her champagne glass. It shatters on the marble floor. "Oh, my
goodness," she gasped, "you're black!"

"Mother!" Jack exclaimed.

"Mother!" Mr. Jeffers exclaimed.

"Son!" mother exclaimed.

"Mrs Jeffers!" the butler exclaimed. "I shall summon the maid immediately to
remove the pieces of glass."

Jack tried to save the moment. "Mother, this is my friend and companion for
this evening, Ms. Janelle Stevens. Isn't she beautiful?"

Mrs. Jeffers composed herself and responded, "Yes, she is beautiful. A little
on the sturdy side" (making reference to Janelle's 46DD and broad shoulders),
but then she lost it again "...but she's black!"

"All over!" Janelle giggled. It wasn't the first time she had encountered
racial discrimination. "But I do have red blood, Mrs. Jeffers." She walked
over to the lady and grasped her hand. "Very nice to meet you, ma'am. Your son
has been very nice to me. Very helpful to me with my school work when
something confuses me. And I'm very appreciative that he has agreed to escort
me to our Senior Prom."

Mrs. Jeffers stared open-mouthed at the tall African-American girl. "Oh dear,
oh dear," seemed to be her only comment. Suddenly Janelle realized something.
Jack hadn't told his family that his date for the evening was
African-American. It didn't seem to bother Mr. Jeffers, but Mrs. Jeffers was
experiencing culture shock. For Mr. Jeffers Janelle's pulchritude seemed to
sway any bias he might have, but evidently Mrs. Jeffers was not ready for such
a turn of events.

Mr. Jeffers, on the other hand, had begun having serious doubts about his
son's sexual preferences. Here the boy was graduating from high school and he
had never been with a girl, never been to a dance, never had a date. Jack was
heir to the Jeffers business interests and the Jeffers fortune, and Mr.
Jeffers wanted to perpetuate the Jeffers lineage, and Jack wasn't doing much
to reassure him, so Mr. Jeffers was exceedingly pleased to see his son with a
female. He had no qualms over her color - she could be any color for all he
cared, just as long as she was a genuine female and able to bear children.

And there was little doubt that Janelle was a genuine female. She was wearing
a beautiful evening gown that her single mother had spent most of two months
pay on, and had altered to fit Janelle's buxom figure. Mr. Jeffers looked
Janelle over very closely - not that he was a lecher, he just wanted to be
sure his son was going with the genuine article to this dance. And there was
no doubt Janelle was the real thing. The low cut neckline of the gown amply
displayed Janelle's breasts. At five feet seven inches she sported 46 double
D, a lot of the inches coming from her wide lats and the breasts, even if
super size, looking perky because of her power pec muscles holding them up and
out.

Mr. Jeffers was suitably impressed. He'd always felt he wanted a substantial
woman for his son because Jack, who, even though he was tall at six feet, was
slightly built at one hundred fifty pounds. Let's face it, he thought, if I'm
going to have the kind of grandchildren I want, then Jack will have to be the
brains and his wife will have to be the brawn. Not that Mr. Jeffers figured
this first date for his eighteen year old son would be the "it" girl, but from
the looks of Janelle it seemed that Jack was off to a good start.

Not only are you a very attractive young lady, Janelle," Mr. Jeffers said,
"but you have a very pleasing figure. You must be very active in sports, or
you work out a lot in a gym - which is it?"

"Both, Mr. Jeffers," Janelle politely replied. "I have two older brothers who
are active in every sport imaginable, and since my single mom had to work they
would drag me along to their practices and then they would go to the gym to
muscle up and I went with them and did what they did, so I'm really very good
at all sports and I'm also quite strong - for a girl, that is," she added
hastily.

"Bet you'd be quite strong for a guy also," Mr. Jeffers said, gazing at the
sold looking trapezius running up the side of her neck and the way the
deltoids seemed to cap off her broad shoulders and how her upper arms filled
out the long sleeves of her formal gown. But how did he know she wasn't
wearing long sleeves to cover up a lot of arm fat, not unusual for girls in
this day and age. Let me test her a little, he thought.

"Tell you what I'll do, Janelle. I'm a sporting man. Want to make a bet?"

"Well...OK...," Janelle slowly responded, not wanting to be negative to
anything her date's father might be proposing.

"I understand you drive quite an old car. I don't want your car breaking down
and giving you trouble tonight so I'll let you drive my car to the Senior Prom
tonight if...if...you beat me in arm wrestling."

"Aw, dad..."Jack began.

Janelle thought she'd play along. "OK, Mr. Jeffers, what kind of car is it?"
she giggled.

"Oh, it's just one of those little Italian jobs, but it's all gassed up, and I
just had it serviced this morning so you won't have to worry about a breakdown
on the way to the dance," Mr. Jeffers said.

Coincidence. Janelle had been worried about her 1975 Chevelle, so she figured
this might be a good deal. "I'll take you up on it, Mr. Jeffers," she said. "I
had a pretty good workout this morning to sweat off an extra pound or two so I
could get into this dress," she laughed. "So maybe I can take you."

"Arm on the table right here, young lady," Mr. Jeffers said, as he sat down in
his chair and planted his elbow on the walnut table and Jack brought up a foot
stool for Janelle to sit on. "You sit right there and we'll have a go."

Mr. Jeffers was pleased. Janelle had a very firm grip. You don't usually marry
the first girl you date, but Jack being such a wuss in the dating game Jack's
dad wasn't counting anybody out. "OK, son," Mr. Jeffers said to Jack, "you say
'go!'"

"Aw, dad..." Jack began.

"C'mon, son," Mr. Jeffers said, "we're having fun here. I like your date. Give
us the 'go.'"

"Well, OK dad, just don't break her arm, all right? We want to go to the prom,
not the hospital. OK. Go!"

Both sides applied pressure. Janelle giggled and Mr. Jeffers laughed. Janelle
was thinking Jack's father wasn't such a bad guy. He seemed to have more
personality than Jack did. Janelle's arm kept Mr. Jeffer's arm in an upright
position regardless of how much pressure he applied. Mr. Jeffers kept grunting
with the effort and pretty soon there was a layer of perspiration on his
forehead, but try as he might he couldn't budge Janelle's arm an inch. Then he
began to get suspicious.

"How come you don't put my arm down Janelle, are you playing with me?" he
growled.

"Gee, no, Mr. Jeffers, I can't try too hard because my bicep, if it swells up
too much it might bust through my sleeve, and then I couldn't go to the prom
with your son, I'd be so disappointed. This sleeve was designed for a normal
girl's arm. I'm afraid mine just gets too big if I stress it any."

As it was, Mr. Jeffers had been watching fascinated as the roundness of
Janelle's upper right arm kept increasing as he pushed harder and harder,
trying to get her arm down. And it wasn't that she was flexing it or anything,
it was just his pressure against her arm that was making her bicep expand to
the point that it was threatening to burst through the sleeve.

Mr. Jeffers was coming to realize that his son had hooked up with a rather
unusual girl. "Just how big is your bicep, Janelle?" he asked as he continued
to try to wrench her arm down to the table top.

"Oh, right now it only gets to about twenty-four inches if I flex it real
hard, but you have to realize that I've had to cut back on my weightlifting
some because I've had to use the gym time to study for high school finals and
take the SAT tests for college, and all that good stuff," she giggled.

Mr. Jeffers was impressed. "That is a very big bicep for an eighteen year old
girl," he said. "Or for any age girl for that matter. Or for any man. Doesn't
that make you conspicuous in a crowd?"

"No," was her response. "I've learned to hide it pretty well. Long sleeves,
pants to hide my thighs and my calves, although I have caught Jack staring at
my thighs a time or two," she giggled. "You may be raising a very horny son,"
she joshed.

"Well, I hope so," was Mr. Jeffers surprising response. "I was beginning to
worry about him. After all, Mrs. Jeffers and I would like grandchildren some
day. I hope he makes a pass at you tonight, Janelle," he laughed.

It was all in good fun, of course, but Jack was blushing now. "Dad!" he
exclaimed.

Janelle, having held Mr. Jeffers' arm in an upright position for some minutes
now had tired him out to the point where she feigned irritation and easily
slammed his arm down to the table top without much swelling of her twenty-four
inch bicep. But what she said in reply surprised the whole family. "Well, I'll
certainly be upset if Jack doesn't make a pass at me. I may just have to make
the first move," she giggled.

"Janelle!" Jack exclaimed, as his face got all red.

"Good girl!" Mr. Jeffers said.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Mrs. Jeffers said.

"By golly, Janelle, you win our arm wrestle. You're very strong. I'm
impressed. You be nice to my son now, I think you can take him with one arm
tied behind your back. And you have my approval to do anything and everything
you want to do to him tonight. Just bring him back alive tomorrow morning," he
laughed. "And oh, by the way I'm going to keep my promise and since you won
our arm wrestle and since it's such a warm evening you can have my car for
your drive to the prom tonight. It's a convertible, you know."

Jack was standing there, taking all this word play in, and now it was his turn
to comment. "Gee, Janelle, I didn't know you were that strong. Arm wrestling
is dad's favorite sport. He goes to tournaments and stuff like that, and he
almost always wins the senior division."

But Mr. Jeffers was a good sport, even if he lost. "I'm glad to see my son is
going out with a good strong woman, not those namby-pamby anorexics running
around high school nowadays. But I won't hold you up any longer with my small
talk, even though I've enjoyed it. You should go to your Senior Prom and enjoy
every last minute of it. You only get a chance at one high school Senior Prom
in a lifetime and you should take advantage of it. I'll call Edward, our
garage attendant right now," and Mr. Jeffers got on the internet to the
garage.

"Edward, would you please bring my personal car to the front portico? I'm
lending it to Ms. Stevens for the evening. And please put the top down so the
kids don't have to wrestle with it. I don't want them dirtying up their
evening clothes."

Mr. Jeffers escorted Jack and Janelle to the front door and gave Janelle a
surprisingly strong hug as they parted and even a very warm kiss on her cheek
as Edward drove Mr. Jeffers' car up to the front steps. "I've enjoyed meeting
you, Janelle. You're the type of strong, self-confident, athletic type of
woman I always hoped my son would team up with. I hope to see a lot more of
you in the future."

Mrs. Jeffers was heard to comment, "Oh dear, oh dear," as Jack and Janelle
walked off hand in hand down the stairs to the waiting car.

Jack gallantly made sure Janelle didn't trip over the hem of her long evening
gown as they walked down the stairs, and Jack helped her to the driver's side
of his dad's automobile, lent to them by Jack's father for this prime evening
in their young lives. Since Jack didn't drive Janelle got to do the honors
tonight.

"A Ferrari?" she gasped. "A FERRARI! Your dad is going to let me drive his
FERRARI? When he said small Italian car I was thinking Fiat! A FERRARI? You've
got to be kidding me! Our senior class is going to die when I drive up in a
FERRARI! I know what I'll say. 'Oh, it's nothing. My boy friend got it as his
high school graduation present.' What's a little white lie among friends? All
the sisters will die with envy! They even wondered why I was going to the
Senior Prom with you. 'Go with a brother,' they said. Wait until they see
this!" Janelle, who knew how to drive a stick shift, slipped the gear shift
lever into first gear, revved the engine to 7000 rpm's, and they roared off
into the night, headed for the prom hotel, Jack cringing in his seat as
Janelle put a FERRARI through its paces.

End of Part Two.