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I guess I can carry a torch a hell of a lot longer than most other people would, but that’s the sort of person I am. Let me explain.
When I was just turning 13, like most males, I began to notice that the opposite sex was far more interesting than I’d previously imagined. The first thing I noticed was that they had breasts. I know that sounds sort of stupid and obvious, but that’s my first memory of puberty, although I had no idea what it was called at the time.
The notice I gave to females leaned just towards general observation of the gender at a distance. I was very shy and unsure of myself at the time.
It wasn’t until ninth grade began that I developed my first serious crush. It was a girl I’d known since we’d begun junior high together two years before: Ellen. That’s not to say I’d never noticed her, but it was usually the sort of thing where guys would be sitting together at a table in the lunchroom, a girl would walk by and someone would comment on how fine she looked. We’d talk about her attributes in some detail until the next girl walked by.
That fall we were put in the same homeroom, and when she sat down just behind me and I turned around to pass out some form or other, it just hit me right in the gut. I don’t know what had happened during the summer, but she had just blossomed. There was an inner glow to her and I was smitten.
Ellen was several inches shorter than I am, maybe around 5’4″. She had long, lustrous brown hair, a very pretty face and a body that I thought was just perfect. It wasn’t curvy like some of the really popular girls. Maybe the best one-word description would be “pert”. She was slender, not huge in the breast department, but nice, with well-shaped legs (I loved seeing her in a gym uniform!) and — I began to realize this was the deciding facet of a woman’s allure for me — a perfect butt.
In class, she was very smart, a good student, a real firebrand on social issues (this was the late ’60s) and quite funny. She expressed herself well and I found that very attractive, too.
I now spent A LOT of time thinking about me and Ellen together in the backseat of a car, on a blanket in the woods, in her bedroom (whatever that looked like), in my bedroom. I didn’t have a whole lot of idea at that point what people do in those situations, but I would imagine those soft lips kissing mine and her voice whispering my name. All my old yearbooks will open automatically to the pages where Ellen’s picture is.
Part way through the year, I worked up the nerve over several weeks to invite her out. I think it was a school dance. Ellen was very nice about it, but she turned me down. That remains the toughest phone call I’ve ever made. I was shaking the whole time, hoping beyond hope that she’d say yes, only to be dashed on the rocks of despair a moment later. For weeks after that, I avoided her, kind of difficult when you sit in front of the girl first thing in the morning and last thing in the afternoon. Outwardly, she seemed unchanged towards me, and I began to think that she didn’t realize how much asking her out meant to me.
We’d been talking in homeroom quite a lot and I thought there was a bit of attraction there on her part, but I was sorely mistaken. She was interested in a guy one grade ahead of us and that was the person she showed up at the dance with. I went alone with some of the guys, leaned against the wall, and under the pretense of listening to the band play, I watched Ellen dance with Bruce. When a slow number began and he pulled her against him, I died a thousand deaths. In the weeks leading up to my devastating phone call, I had imagined myself in that position.
Bruce and Ellen became an item and frustratingly their relationship went on and on, showing no signs of letting up. I moved on, dated a few girls here and there, found no one very special and tried not think of who I REALLY wanted.
Even when Bruce went off to college, I didn’t get a break. He was home about one weekend a month and I always knew when he was coming because Ellen would be increasingly bubbly all week. I loved to see her like this because her allure to me became almost overwhelming, but it was hard to take at the same time.
Later on, in our senior year, I began going steady with another girl in our class, but it was definitely a case of settling for second best. Even so, we became pretty close.
At the end of the year, as our right of passage approached, all sorts of parties were planned, and naturally everyone was interested in going to as many as possible, trying to squeeze out every last bit of togetherness before we went our separate ways, possibly forever.
The graduation formal was an annual tradition at our school — and an attempt by our teachers and parents to keep us all out of trouble. The only way you could go to this party (held in the gym) was to be a senior or be invited by one. Naturally, I was going to take Debby.
But let me back up a bit. Two months earlier when the jobs halkalı escort were handed out, I wound up, through no connivance on my part, on the music committee, and it was chaired by Ellen. It was our job to audition and hire the band that would be playing and I did everything I could to drag the process out, despite the fact that I was going steady with someone else.
Being around this person who could raise my blood pressure several notches by just walking into a room was a heady experience. I got to sit next to her. I got to talk on the phone with her. I even got to drive her a few places to hear the bands we were interested in.
Those were particularly tough since Ellen was dressed either in tight-fitting jeans or shorts. I had a tough time hiding my nearly constant erections. I don’t think she noticed, or if she did, she was too polite (or stunned) to say anything. I’d always carry a jacket or a clipboard or SOMETHING in front of me when we first left the car so that she wouldn’t notice. One time we were driving, talking and laughing, and she actually turned to me and put her hand on my forearm to make a point. I just about came right there.
Since many of us were now eighteen and in our state you could drink at that age, a few of the more “select” parties served alcohol. Not that this stopped those who were still underage from drinking, but they were less well attended, shall we say, than many of the other end-of-high school parties. To be invited to one was something special.
The grad formal was scheduled for the day after graduation, a Friday, and it was up to Ellen and me to make sure the band was set up and ready to go at the very grown up hour of 8:00. That afternoon I picked up the phone to find an hysterical Ellen at the other end. The singer for the band we’d hired had broken his leg and they couldn’t make the gig. She was beside herself, taking all the blame for the screw-up since she was the one who really wanted this band.
“Let me make a couple of phone calls,” I told her calmly.
“What good will that do?” she wailed. “You’re not going to find anyone now, or if you do, they’re not going to be worth listening to! All the good bands will have jobs tonight.”
“I have a couple of ideas.”
“We are so screwed! What am I going to tell everyone?”
“Leave it to me.”
What I didn’t tell her was that the older brother of a friend of my older brother (follow that?) played in one of the hottest bands in the area, The Soul Men. They had been way out of our price range, so we’d never even considered them. They usually played in clubs and colleges, anyway. But I also knew that they weren’t playing at the moment because they were breaking in a new bass player.
Crossing my fingers, I asked my brother for help. Within ten minutes, I had Johnny, the guitar player and leader of the band, on the line. By a further stroke of luck, they were just getting set up to rehearse. Explaining the situation, I asked if they’d be able to play for the formal.
“Just a minute,” he told me and covered the phone with his hand.
I could hear muffled trumpet and the drums in the background, warming up. The noise stopped, a discussion followed, and eventually Johnny came back on the line.
“We can do it, but not for less than $1000. We usually charge $1500, by the way.”
I swallowed hard. The band that had cancelled had only wanted $500. It was too late to call anyone at the school to get the okay for the larger expenditure. Then I thought of the thousand bucks I had in the bank already saved for books and things when I started college in the fall. I still had the whole summer to save up. I thought about Ellen’s gratitude when I called to tell her I had the best band in the area ready to play.
“Okay. Can you be set to go by 8:00?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Half the money will be a check from the school and the other half will be cash. Is that all right.”
Johnny laughed. “Cash is always all right.”
When I phoned back Ellen, it was obvious she’d been crying.
“I’ve got a band,” I told her.
“The Soul Men.”
“Please don’t kid me, Ronny. This isn’t the time to be funny.”
“I’m not kidding. They haven’t been playing the past two weeks because they’re rehearsing a new bass player. They had nothing better to do tonight, so I talked them into playing for us.”
“We can’t afford them!”
“Relax. It’s all taken care of. Frankly, I think they’re hungry for a bit of quick cash.”
Ellen squealed happily. “I can’t believe you’ve pulled our butts out of the fire! Ron, if you were here right now, I’d give you a big kiss!”
I fervently wished I’d thought of going over to Ellen’s house to tell her the news. The thought of her throwing her arms around my neck and pressing those soft lips against mine was almost too much to contemplate. My cock immediately began to swell in my jeans. On second thought, maybe it was good taksim escort I wasn’t there. With her body plastered against mine, she’d be sure to notice something like that.
After hanging up, I went to the bathroom to jerk off, and the orgasm was the most intense I’d ever had.
The Soul Men were fabulous that night, pouring out that sweet soul music in a great show. A 9-piece R&B band with glittering saxes and trumpet, their great front man and Johnny wailing away on guitar had the dance floor constantly packed. Everyone was thrilled.
I introduced Ellen to the guys in the band and it was obvious from the way they reacted that they liked what they saw.
She was dressed in a mid-ankle white dress that clung to her in all the right places. The neck was low and just a peek of the top of her breasts showed. The bottom, neck and sleeves had long tassels so the dress seemed to move by itself, shimmering even when she was standing still. Unlike most of the other girls, she’d left her hair down but it had been cut and styled beautifully. She no longer looked like a high school girl. Ellen had become a woman.
Debby didn’t have to be too smart to notice I spent the evening staring in a direction other than hers, and she wasn’t happy. When Ellen actually asked me to dance, she made it clear that wasn’t going to happen, telling me she wanted to go outside for some fresh air. With Bruce also hovering over his prize all evening, the offer wasn’t extended again, possessive bastard!
One thing did happen, though: Ellen invited us to one of the “special” parties. Debby, probably from being aware of where my eyes had been, agreed to go — completely surprising me.
She came from a VERY strict family and it had been over 6 months into our going steady that she had allowed me to even kiss her. Now, a nearly a year on, that’s as far as we’d ever gotten. It was quite clear that was as far as we’d probably ever go, until we got married. Oh yes, we’d already discussed that. She was far more eager than I on the subject.
So at 11:30 when the strains of “Soul Man” were still echoing in the gym, the principal turned the house lights on and the atmosphere we’d been enveloped in for the past 3 1/2 hours disappeared like so much smoke.
Debby had been given very special permission from her dad to stay out until 12:30, so that we could go to the local diner with the gang for fries and cokes, but woe be to me if I got her home even 1 minute late!
Disaster struck when I got out to the school parking lot. My damn car wouldn’t start. I felt like pounding my head on the steering wheel. Perhaps I did. I just couldn’t believe my bad luck.
We were sitting there when Bruce pulled up behind us in the Chevy his dad had bought him as a graduation present the year before.
Ellen yelled out the window, “You guys having trouble?”
“My damn car won’t start!”
She turned away, speaking to Bruce, then leaned out again with a cheery wave. “You can come with us, okay?”
We were soon off, “Born to be Wild” blaring from the car’s radio.
On the way over to the party, Ellen turned to talk with us, a bright smile lighting her face. “Do you know that your clever boyfriend managed to not only replace the band we’d hired at the last possible moment,” she told Debby, “but that he also got the best band in the whole area to play? Wasn’t that just the best formal ever?”
Debby looked over at me curiously. “How come you didn’t tell me any of this?”
“It happened late this afternoon, and you were at the hairdresser. By the time I picked you up, we were so late, it slipped my mind.”
The party we were going to was in an area of narrow streets where they only allowed cars to park on one side, and as we were late getting there, we could only find a spot nearly three blocks away. The street was a dead end, and ours was the last spot there. Next stop a large forested plot.
Naturally, being young and with rampant hormones, the two couples began to make out. Maybe it was the evening, or maybe it was my obvious interest in Ellen, but surprisingly, Debby was the one who initiated it. Bruce and Ellen watched us for a moment, then began themselves.
Now as I’ve already mentioned, Debby was a very good girl, and I was naturally surprised and more than pleased. She made it clear, though, very quickly that I shouldn’t push my luck.
in the front seat, Bruce and Ellen were in a world of their own, and I was very envious of Bruce when I saw the way Ellen attacked his mouth with hers. I almost wanted to stop my own hot make-out session to watch. This would indeed be good fuel for months of masturbation sessions.
Debby, immediately sensing that I was distracted redoubled her own efforts, and forcefully turned my head to face hers, keeping her hand on my cheek so I couldn’t turn back. For the next few minutes, I was only aware of movements and rustling of fabric from the front seat as we continued our own rather şişli escort kissing and sighing.
Suddenly, Debby stiffened and whispered in my ear, “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”
I looked forward to see that Bruce had slid over on the seat and Ellen was turned around, straddling his lap. Both were breathing hard and this female who’d deliciously tortured my dreams for several years was slowly moving up and down. Even though she was trying hard not to be obvious about it and the light was very dim, anyone could see that they were fucking.
We stared at them from the backseat, Debby nearly frozen with fear and me nearly frozen with desire.
Ellen’s eyes were closed and her mouth was glued to Bruce’s as she kissed him feverishly, hands on both sides of his head. Where his hands were I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought they might be on her hips, helping her move in the cramped quarters. As things heated up over the next few minutes, she leaned back, hands on the dashboard behind her. From her movements I could tell she was rocking her hips into her lover to get the maximum stimulation (although being inexperienced, I didn’t understand that concept at the time).
Debby was gripping my hand tightly as we watched Ellen drive herself forward to orgasm, no longer bothering to be discreet as her body sought release. Bruce just sat there, letting her do her thing on his cock — the lucky devil.
Ellen leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Squeeze my nipples and make me cum,” she groaned, loud enough that we could hear. “Oh yes! That is so good. Harder! Pull them!
Bruce did as she asked, playing with her cloth-covered breasts, and her movements immediately became more frenzied.
I was absolutely mesmerized. I’d never imagined that sex could be like this. Over the years, I’d only heard the usual locker room talk and had occasionally stolen glances at a friend’s father’s collection of Playboy magazines.
In everything I’d heard about sex, the girl just sort of laid there as the guy got between her legs and thrust in and out for awhile before cumming. What the girl got out of it, I’d had no idea.
But this heavenly creature, the one I’d dreamt about, imagined being with so many times I’d lost count was obviously in a place of the most extreme pleasure as she humped herself up and down on Bruce’s cock. This was passion, at its most raw and primal. Even inexperienced and naive little me understood that.
Too soon for me, Ellen began pushing forward very hard and her mouth dropped open. A moment later her whole body convulsed for several seconds. Bruce, too, let out a low moan.
It was all over.
Ellen sat where she was for a minute then leaned forward to whisper something in Bruce’s ear, before her tongue came out, licking it, almost like a dog would lick her puppies. It was a tender gesture and not at all odd at the time. (Several women I’ve tried it on over the years have thought it was gross.) Bruce’s shiver was mirrored by my own. Debby let loose her death grip on my hand, and began breathing again.
There was some more fumbling around in the front seat and I imagine that they were cleaning up and straightening out their clothes. Whether Ellen and Bruce’s coupling included condoms or not, I don’t know, but there were certainly some girls in our school who were purportedly on the newly-introduced birth control pill.
Bruce turned around to me and grinned like a fox. “Everyone ready to go now?”
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” I responded.
Bruce and Ellen began walking, then he turned. “Could you check the driver’s side door? I’m not sure if I locked it.”
I lifted the handle and the door opened. Good call. I was about to press the lock down when I spotted something on the front seat glowing in the overhead light. Reaching in, I caught my breath when I realized it was Ellen’s panties.
It was the decision of a moment and I guiltily stuffed the tiny piece of sodden cloth into my pants pocket.
Debby remained silent until we were walking down the street, following Ellen and Bruce who had arms around each other and kissed from time to time.
“I don’t want to go to this party,” Debby hissed in my ear. “I cannot believe we witnessed what we just did! Your little friend is a complete slut! Take me home!”
I had Debby home a full half-hour before her curfew. On the front porch of her house, I got nothing more than a disgusted head shake and more bad words about the people I considered friends. What a great end to what might have been an exceptional night.
I walked home in a thoroughly bad mood, arriving home far earlier than my mom had expected. Telling her I didn’t want to talk about it, I went up to my room and shut the door.
Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I’d made the right decision not to return to the party without Debby. No, I decided. There was no use fooling myself. Ellen was madly in love with Bruce, and while we’d become much better friends over the past month or so, I still didn’t stand a chance with her.
Reaching into my pocket, I took out Ellen’s panties and uncrumpled them. They were those very tiny French kind, the one’s where the top of the girl’s butt crack showed, made out of cotton, white.
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