I met Joanne the first day of High School. An alphabetical accident placed Bobby McCoy and Joanne McCrary side by side on the seating charts for the next four years. I loved her at first sight. It only took an hour more to realize that that love was hopeless. She was rich, beautiful, out going, athletic, scary smart, and completely out of my league. I accepted my fate without a fight. I made myself a quiet place in her background.
Dawn was the rough first-draft of her younger sister, two years older but only a grade ahead ... While Joanne was tall and full figured, Dawn was large and heavy. Joanne excelled. Dawn struggled. Joanne was a star, a bright, vivid leader. Dawn and I plodded along with the average. So I asked her out. I dated her for three years. She was my toehold into Joanne's world away from school. I treated her as well as I could. I thought I concealed my initial feelings from the sisters. I was wrong.
My dad died during the summer following my Junior year. I was forced to take a long hard look at myself, my finances, and my future. I took a firm grip on my ears, and pulled my head out of my ass. I met with my astounded guidance councillor. We came up with a plan to salvage my academic career, and laid the foundation for scholarships and student loans. I signed up for summer school and advanced placement classes at the community college.
Dawn's parents could afford to send her anywhere she chose. Her first choice was Northeastern University, in Boston. The attraction was the cooperative program, which alternated quarters of classroom participation, with quarters of real world work experience. Her fall back was the University of Connecticut, close enough to continue our relationship.
I never meant to hurt her. My goal was to set her free, to get out of the way, let her find the one who was meant for her. Best deal I could make was one year in Boston before a decision was made.
Freshman year was a trial for her. She barely made it through her first quarter. She wasn't properly prepared. She had to study, and learn how to study, at the same time. She had little time for me. I was taking an overload of classes, and working every hour I could get. I had minimal time for her, even while I tried to let the relationship wither away.
The inevitable happened. She called, in tears, to tell me she had fallen for someone else. She begged me to tell her what to do. As gently and firmly as possible, I pushed her into his arms. I didn't realize I was crying until Mom asked about my tears. Dawn stayed in Boston over the summer and it was years before I saw her again.
UConn was the only school I applied to. Half my family had gone there, and three quarters of my classmates planned to. Everyone insisted that I make additional applications. My councillor brought up Northeastern. Co-op would pay more than mimimum wage, and would look much better than fipping burgers or restocking DVD's on my resume. UConn began to look like four more years of High School. I'd had enough of being class clown, and hanger-on to the elete. Northeastern had a rolling acceptance policy, and I was set to go a week after my interview.
I got caught in the transition from academic scholarships, to scholarships based on need and ethnicity. Mom had income from Dad's insurance, and I wasn't Black, so I was out of luck. I found some work-study hours in the concrete lab, and washed dishes in the cafeteria. I really got into my math classes, and excelled, which led to a job as a tutor for struggling students. Dawn was one of my first pupils.
She looked great, and I was thrilled to be of help with her understanding of statistics. Her first three boyfriends hadn't panned out, but she was still actively looking. As I had no time or money for dating, I fell into the role of fill-in escort and occasional friend with benefets. Not what I'd dreamed of, but it was only three more years.
I really, REALLY, didn't want to go, but I couldn't refuse to attend my wife's ten year High School reunion. Mom moved back with her family after my graduation, so I had no reason or inclination to return. I couldn't come up with a convincing reason not to go, so here I was.
I found myself, once again, seated next to Joanne. I didn't recognise her at first. The lustrous black hair had been replaced with blonde. Her full body had been pared and sculptured to slim perfection. Her breasts stood even prouder and firmer than I remembered. She had married one of her sister's classmates, Dan Everson, quarterback, captain of the basketball team, class president. They had been a good match. She appeared to have continued to excell, while he had peaked back then. I thought I might have stepped up a rung or two myself.
My wife mouthed "do her," and wandered off with her friends. Dan went to the bar to "network and peddle insurance." Joannne and I continued to reminisce.
"I know you crushed on me in school," she said, "but you never made a move. I remember all those double dates with Dawn. She had to drive. You sat up front, me in back with my current jock. I had to listen so often, while you got her off so well with fingers and tongue, while I wrestled a gorilla in the back seat."
"I loved you from the first time I saw you. I knew I NEVER had a chance against those rich guys, and jocks, and college playboys you ran with."
We spoke softly about what had been, and could have been, and maybe should have been. She was taken away to the dance floor several times, but always returned. We danced. She was my dreams in my arms. She pressed the breasts from my teen wet dreams against my chest, and rubbed. She spread her thighs around mine, rubbing against my erection, as we slow danced through my recurring fantasies.
She breathed in my ear. "You might not have had a chance THEN, but you definetely do NOW. Give me a ten minute head start, then come meet me in the band room." She took a firm grip on my cock, made a long measuring stroke. "If you want to as much as I do..." She stroked my cheek. The scent of her arousal, wet on her fingertips, intoxicated me.
The band room was pitch dark when I entered. There was a pile of gym mats on the stage. A single blue spot illuminated them. The sound of the music, from beyond the wall behind the speakers had a strange underwater sounding tone. She lay on her back, naked under her spread dress. She slowly slid it off and away, "Do me." she snarled." DO ME the way you did Dawn. Then take me, the way you never did then!"
I walked up beside her, held her head with my fingertips, kissed gently. I caressed her temples, ran fingers through her hair, around her ears. I kissed her temples, her eyelids, nibbled her nose. She giggled. I held her cheeks in my palms, as I ever so softly kissed her lips. The kiss grew stronger. I nibbled her lower lip, until her mouth opened, and her tongue came out to play. Our tongues wrestled and explored. She moaned.
I kissed and stroked my way down her neck, back up under her chin, back down into her cleavage. My hands clasped the underside of her breasts, lifting, stroking. My lips and tongue were all over them, except for the pebbly aurioli, and out-thrust nipples. My fingers captured her full breasts gently molding them, lifting them to my lips. I swiped the left nipple with a warm wet tongue, followed with a chilling breath. She writhed and moaned. I looked a question into her eyes. She nodded," A small one."
I feasted on her nipples, alternating side to side, alternating nips, sucks and breaths. She arched her back to meet me. I pinched the nipples and pulled. She rose up off the bed and moaned. "Bigger!"
My hands slid down to her waist. I ran finger tips down the outside of her thighs, down behind her knees. I traced patterns inside her thighs, back around her hips, up onto her belly. She trembled and giggled as I blew into her navel. I moved one hand over her mons, gently exploring the root of her clitoris, while the other hand chased spasms up her thighs. Her legs spread, rose and folded at the knees. She gasped as I blew warm air into her fur.