Finding a Place
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2002 by Don Lockwood

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Sheila and Brendan are freshmen at Stanford. He's a brain, she's a jock. Warning: do *not* eat anything sweet while reading this story. You *will* go into sugar shock. And, yes, it *is* supposed to be this sweet and sappy, OK? *grin*

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Petting   School  

(note: the current world record in the women's 200 meter backstroke is 2:06.62, set by the great Hungarian backstroker Krisztina Egerszegi. So, there's a wee bit of realism in this Chapter.)


We came back downstairs about an hour later and Mom was still there, watching some TV show.

"Did you get all her stuff put away?" Mom asked, grinning.

"Sure," I said. The suitcases were still on my floor, unopened.

"Right," Mom said. "What am I, stupid?"

Poor Sheila blushed. "Well, uh..." she stammered.

"Relax," Mom said. "If I had cared, I would've put you in the guest room."

Shortly after that, Dad came home, and got to meet Sheila. Mom got supper on, and we all went in to the dining room to eat.

"Hey, is there a mall around here?" Sheila asked as we ate. "I need to go shopping, maybe tomorrow."

"Sure," I said. "We can do that."

"I need a new coat," she grinned. "The heaviest one I've got isn't heavy enough for this weather."

Dad started singing a parody version of an old Frank Sinatra song: "Chicago, Chicago, it's twenty below. Chicago, Chicago, the wind and the snow."

Sheila cracked up, looked at me, and said, "Now I know where you get your quirky sense of humor."

"Quirky?"

"Quirky. Hey, it's better than geeky. You geek," she grinned.

"Jock."

"Brainiac."

"Musclehead."

My parents were cracking up.

"Musclehead's my favorite term of endearment," Sheila told them with a grin. "He's a born romantic, isn't he?"

"You want romance? Come sit on my lap and I'll nibble on your earlobe."

"Swoon!" she said. My parents were still cracking up. "You just be nice to me or I won't take you to the Olympics."

"You have to make the Olympics first, Miss Overconfident."

"Oh, I'm going to," she declared. "It didn't count, because it wasn't in a meet-but at training this week I went under the World Record in the 200 back three times."

"Great!" I said.

"Hey, I'm going to have competition in the 100 back at Nationals, and I'm going to have a lot of competition in the 200 individual medley. But the 200 back? That's mine."

"Good." Then I realized what she had said earlier. "What's this about taking me to the Olympics?"

"Oh, yeah, that," she giggled. "Seriously, I talked to my parents about it. It's all set. If I make the team-which I will-you're there. We'll get you a plane ticket, tickets to all the swimming, and tickets for both of us to some of the second-week events after swimming ends. You'll be there."

I was stunned. "That is very generous," Mom said.

"Hey," she said. "I'm going to need him there. Look, school gets out in May. The Olympics are in July. I'm going to be in training camp a lot of that time, plus, Brendan will be here. That's two months we're not going to see each other." She grinned. "If you're trying to win an Olympic medal, lonely and horny is no way to do it."

Mom cracked up laughing. "So, that OK with you?" Sheila asked me. "You watch me win a couple medals, then we can watch some other stuff, and we can paint Paris red. Sound good?"

"Sounds fantastic. Of course I want to be there."

She beamed at me. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

I noticed Mom looking back and forth between us. "Mom?" I asked.

"I was just thinking. I've never seen you like this. I never thought I would see you like this." She looked at Sheila. "I don't think words can express how thankful I am that you came into his life."

Poor Sheila looked flummoxed. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Mom said. "Look, let's all go in the living room," she said. We did, Mom and Dad in their favorite chairs, Sheila and I together on the couch.

"Does she know?" Mom asked me.

"Yes," I said, knowing what she was talking about. Sheila looked at me questioningly. I just pointed to my wrist. "Ah," Sheila said.

"Do you know I'm the one that found him?" she asked Sheila.

"Yes, he told me that."

"As you might imagine, it was devastating. However, I knew why he did it. I don't know if I wouldn't have done the same thing if I were going through what he was going through."

"I never knew that," I said.

"I said I understood, I didn't say I approved, and I didn't want to give you any more encouragement while you were that fragile," she said sternly. "Anyway." She smiled at Sheila. "Having gone through that, I hope you can understand why I get a bit emotional at seeing him this happy."

"Yeah," Sheila smiled, "but I didn't do anything!"

"You love him," Mom said.

"Yes," she said, smiling at me.

" That is what you did," Mom smiled.

"Oh, that was easy," Sheila giggled.

"For you. Not for too many people in Brendan's life," Dad interjected.

"Well, then, they're all idiots," Sheila said. "Look, this is a two-way street. My high school years weren't as horrific as Brendan's, but the bad spots-and there were enough of them-all had to do with guys. I was done with guys, I didn't trust them, I didn't want to have anything to do with them. Then I met him."

"Good," Mom laughed. "You two, by the way, are adorable together."

Sheila looked at me, blushing bright red, grinning. I'm pretty sure I was doing the same.

We chatted for a while, then went up to bed. We didn't sleep-well, not right away, anyhow.

The next morning, we ate breakfast, then I drove her swimming. "You can drop me off, you know. You don't need to waste three hours watching me swim," she said.

"I like watching you swim. Besides, I brought a book."

"OK," she giggled.

What was funny was what happened when she got in the pool. There was obviously some training going on. Sheila went and introduced herself to the coach running the training, who had been expecting her, thanks to Mr. Waslewski. They chatted for a minute, then Sheila got in to the far lane, which had been left for her. The other lanes were filled up with the kids training there, who ranged in age from about 9 to 14 or so. They had been doing their thing, until Sheila plopped in and started her power backstroking.

I don't think those kids got much done in the next few minutes. They were too busy staring at the far lane in complete awe. I know how they felt!

 
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