Laramie - Cover

Laramie

Copyright© 2006 by Dilettante

Chapter 11

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Just over 27,000 people live in Laramie, Wyoming, for some reason. Michael is pretty sure he shouldn't be one of them. But then he met Debbie.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Slow   School  

I'd struggled with how I was going to do it. Should I just ask her straight out? Surprise her? Maybe a romantic dinner?

What if she said no?

I'd finally decided that the best place to do it was at the sporting goods store. I know. How romantic.

"Why are we stopping here?" Debbie asked.

"I need to get something," I said.

"Mind if I stay in the Jeep?"

"Ye-es!" I said. I walked around the Jeep to her door, opened it, and pulled her out. "How am I going to be the envy of every guy in the store, if you're out here, hmmm?"

"Okay. Just promise me we aren't here to buy a jockstrap, or something."

"No jocks." I held the door for her and followed her in. I wonder, do they can locker room smell, and slowly release it in sporting goods stores, or do locker rooms smell the way they do because of the sporting goods?

"This place stinks," Debbie told me. "Yuck!"

"This way," I said, leading her past camouflage and blaze-orange jackets and weight-lifting equipment, to women's swimwear.

"You need a ladies' swim suit, Michael?" Debbie said with raised eyebrows. "Something personal you haven't told me?"

"Look who's talking," I said with a smile.

Fortunately, Debbie burst out laughing. "So, what are we here for?"

"I need a bikini," I said.

"A bikini."

"Right. I need a bikini. Thirty-four, maybe thirty-five, B on top, medium bottoms. Not too risqué, but hot enough to turn a few heads."

Debbie looked at me. "Been going through my underwear?"

"Yes." Like she had to ask.

"Why do I need a bikini?" Debbie asked me.

"For the beach," I said, as though it were obvious.

"What beach, Michael?"

"Ahh," I said just to be a little mean. "Maybe I forgot to mention it? We need to go down to Ft. Lauderdale for Spring Break."

Debbie's eyes got a bit big. "We 'need' to go?"

"Yeah... Still looking for my dad. You know."

"Let me get this right. Lauderdale. Spring Break. Bikini. Me."

"I know it isn't fair to the local girls in Lauderdale," I said. "But I'd sure like you there with me."

I barely had time to brace myself before a hundred pounds of happy girl landed in my arms for a huge hug and a kiss. "Oh, God, this will be fun!" In case you are unaware, Ft. Lauderdale is a destination of choice for a quasi-religious pilgrimage of sun-worshiping college students, taking a one-week vacation from collegiate studies each spring. Oh, and there's a lot of sex and booze there, too.

Even though we'd had the undivided attention of every man and boy in the store already, Debbie's pure excitement and demonstrative affection riveted them even more.

"Not too risqué?"

"I want the naughty bits to be just for me."

"No thongs?" Debbie asked with a smile.

"You're one of like seven women in the world who could pull it off; but no. No thongs."

"Well done, city boy," Debbie said.

She was right. It was.

For a relatively small sporting goods store in Laramie (Laramie!), Wyoming, they had a fairly good selection of bikinis.

But not good enough. "Sweetie," Debbie said after she'd looked at every one of them. "I've got nicer, hotter bikinis at home. How about we skip buying a new one here, and get it on the beach, there?"

I think there was a collective groan in the store as Debbie wrapped her arm around mine and let me lead her out to the Jeep.

Because our time in the store had been much shorter than I'd expected, we were still a bit early to pick up Emily for lunch. We went over to Debbie's house anyway.

Barb was happy to see us, and we sat with her in the kitchen and talked. Emily was in the shower.

"Aside from Matrices, Michael, how are your classes this semester?" Barb asked.

I told her that I was really enjoying most of them — though the higher course-load had really been a challenge.

"How's Emily?" Debbie asked, studiously not looking at me. It was okay. I didn't mind. Really.

"I think she's lonely," Barb said. "I think I'm good company, but..." She laughed.

"Any news about her boyfriend, or her parents?"

"She called her mom yesterday. It didn't go well. She cried for a bit after hanging up — though I'm probably not supposed to know that," Barb said.

I shook my head. "Does she have any plans?"

"Well," Barb said, "I know she wants to get on with things, but she can't go back to her old job. She doesn't have a car. She has no money. She's really stuck, and she's really down about it."

I heard the shower cut off down the hall. "Well, maybe having lunch out will cheer her up a bit," I said.

"I'm going to go talk to her," Debbie said, looking at me.

I looked back and raised my eyebrow. "Only look," I said with a smile. "No touching!"

"Michael!" Debbie said. "As if." Her eyes were twinkling.

I burst out laughing. "As if."

Debbie went down the hall, and knocked on the bathroom door.

I turned from watching her, to see Barb watching at me.

"You surprise me, Michael," Barb said.

"Really? Why?" I asked.

"You seem to have accepted Debbie's... That is, that Debbie..." Barb seemed to be at a loss for words.

"... likes girls?"

"Yeah," Barb said. "It's sort of tough to talk about," she explained.

"Well," I said, "aside from the obvious curiosity, I don't see how her liking girls affects me." I blushed. "If she likes both girls and guys, that doesn't change how she feels about me. I mean, I don't know why, but she's picked me.

"You're right, Michael," Barb told me. "But that's a pretty mature viewpoint. It surprises me."

I didn't know what to say, so I kept quiet.

Debbie and a towel-draped Emily crossed from the bathroom to Debbie's room. They were laughing.

"They're going to be a while," Barb said.

I rolled my eyes. "Can I ask you some questions about my homework?"

Barb and I spent half an hour or so, going over some of the questions I'd come up with. After patiently explaining (and re-explaining once or twice) some of the answers, Barb held up her hands. "Michael? Let's stop a minute." She paused. "You're asking some odd questions."

Really? I looked a question at her.

"Why are you asking these questions?"

Because I want to understand? "Um. What kind of questions should I be asking?"

"No," Barb said. "That's not what I meant." She paused again, obviously thinking. "Okay. You aren't asking 'how do I do this' type questions. You're asking 'why does it work' or 'when does this stop working' questions."

"Right," I said slowly. "Is that wrong?" Shouldn't I want to know why it works?

"No. Not wrong, just unusual," Barb told me. She got up, found a notebook, and sat back down. "Look. I'm going to rough out a concept you haven't been exposed to. As I do, I want you to hold any questions until I'm done, then ask. Okay?"

"Sure," I said. What the hell?

Barb laughed. "Think of it as an experiment."

"Okay."

For the next few minutes, Barb sketched out a problem, described a method of solving it, and solved it. She was right. I'd never seen anything like it — though it did include calculus and some matrix manipulations that were somewhat similar to what I'd been studying.

When she was done I asked some questions and then re-solved the problem she'd laid out. She had just started to set another problem up, when Debbie and Emily came out.

"Uh," I looked from Debbie to Emily to Barb. "Could," I started. "Damn. Uh, you guys look good."

Debbie giggled. "Thanks!"

"Um," I said.

"What?" Debbie asked.

"Your mom is showing me something and I'd like to follow it through.," I said. "Could we put lunch off a while? Or, if you want, you and Emily could go without me?"

"What's Mom showing you?" Debbie asked.

Barb explained.

"So you'd rather sit at my kitchen table and do higher math with my mom, than go out to lunch with two hot chicks?" Debbie asked laughing.

I laughed, too. "Well, no. I'd like to do both." Good save.

"Good save," Debbie said. Mind reading? Debbie turned to Emily. "What do you say, Em? Lunch without the math geek, or wait for him?"

"Oh," Emily said, "let's wait. We can watch gymnastics or ice-skating or something on television until he's ready."

They both laughed.

"Don't keep us waiting too long, buster," Debbie said. They went into the living room.

Barb finished setting up the problem, and then I solved it. I didn't solve it quickly, and I didn't do it without asking more questions, but I did solve it.

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