CHARACTERS:

Karen ... lead female character, twenty, longtime wallflower

Joe ... secondary male character, eighteen, high schooler, jock

Timmy ... lead male character, early twenties

LOVE!

Will I ever really love? Will another ever love me? I dream of love. I fantasized about love. I want love--a true love, a real lover. But me, the shy wallflower? All I can do is hope.

My twentieth birthday was yesterday, January 31 and mother asked, "Karen, are you going to the Valentine dance next month?"

"You're kidding. I don't even have a boyfriend, let alone a date to that annual town dance, mother, you know that."

"Why don't you have a boyfriend, Karen? You goin' to be an old maid on me?"

"MOTHER!"

I stormed out of the room, tears streaming down my face.

All through high school, now two years over thank God, I was the studious one. I didn't like or participate in sports or much of anything else for that matter. I was straight A for all four years. I guess I was the female version of a nerd. I even had the ugly eyeglasses to go with the image.

Boys scared me to death. They also teased me to death. How could I like one of them, let alone love one of them? They made snide remarks about me and my frumpy clothes, like: "Hi, Granny." or "There's the ugly duckling again," or "That face would sink a thousand ships." or worst of all, "There's our favorite hillbilly." The girls were even meaner in their comments than were the boys. More than once, I fled to the bathroom in tears.

One boy, Carl, tried to be nice to me. He once even apologized for the behavior of the others. Just when I thought he might be really nice, he quite talking to me. I think some of the others got to him and told him to back off--or else.

I did look odd, I guess. I wore loose fitting dresses while other girls were skirts and blouses. I covered up with more loose clothes like sweaters. I wore "granny" shoes and laces. It was what my parents could afford and it wasn't "in style" of the time. I was also well aware that my southern accent in central Iowa was considered "Hillbilly," especially when everyone knew we had moved into the area from a hill town in Kentucky coal country my freshman year.

We'd moved to a small town south of I-80 in central Iowa to a farm. We were fifteen or so miles east of Des Moines. The high school population was about three-hundred and fifty students and their behavior was typical of teenagers towards "outsiders" moving into "their town" and "their school." This was especially true of outsiders as different from them as was I.

In the fall of my sophomore year, I finally gave in and accepted a date. One of the football players asked me to the soc hop after the game. I reluctantly agreed. Since I didn't attend the game, he had to drive out to our country farmhouse to get me. He pulled into the lane and drove up to the house. He honked his horn, but stayed in the car.

Not much on chivalry, I thought.

I climbed into the passenger seat and sat halfway between Joe and my door. I was very nervous and trembling. I still wore a dress, but one of my Sunday ones. It had a tight collar around the base of my neck, long sleeves, and buttoned down the back. I had a loose, wool sweater over that along with nicer shoes than the ones I wore to school, but still much too "Granny" with laces for the teenage crowd.

Joe looked my way, really more like leered my way and said, "What's the matter, cold? I can warm you up plenty if you slide over here with me."

I sure hope that's not an indication of how the rest of this date is going to go, I thought.

Unfortunately, it was.

There was lots of snickering from kids who observed our entrance into the gym. I had my arm through Joe's for support. My knees were so weak, I needed the support just to stand. But that put his arm into the side of my left breast and he took full advantage of that by rubbing and pressing into my clothing covered flesh.

That action sent shivers through my body. Don't get me wrong, I liked those shivers, but they scared me half to death. I'd scarcely touched myself let alone allowed anyone else to touch me. Joe noticed the shivers. I feared he'd misinterpret them.

The record was a fast song, too fast for Joe. "We'll wait for a slow one and then dance," he said.

Within minutes, a slow song floated out of the phonograph. Joe led me out onto the floor and pulled me into his arms. His right hand dropped to my waist, but an instant later, it was on my butt. He pulled me tightly into himself. I should say, into the bulge between his legs and ground my crotch into it.

Although I didn't know a lot about sex at the time, I knew enough to know that I was up against a blatant example of a long, hard, vertical sample of raw manhood. I was like a frightened deer in the headlights of a car. Somehow, though, I kept my cool. I reached down and placed his offending hand back on my waist. I was then free to back off enough to leave some space between us again.

"Don't do that again, Joe."

"Awe, Baby, you know you liked it."

"No, I certainly did not."

Yes, I really did, but I wasn't going to tell him that. My female intuition told me all he was after was sex. He wasn't really interested in me the person. I wasn't really interested in him either, not that way, anyhow. All I wanted was to try a date and so far, I found this one very wanting.

Of course, I had to fight him off the rest of the time at the dance. I'd slapped his hands away from my breasts more than once. He pulled me in close a couple of more times again and I had to fight that. He leaned in and kissed me. I bit his lip. It wasn't a love bite. He just couldn't keep his hands or his mouth off me. Finally, I had enough.

"Take me home, Joe, now."

"Awe, Baby, come on, dance with me some more.'

"Now, Joe, or I'll walk off and leave you here in front of your friends."

Sullenly, Joe walked me out and to the car. I was trembling again, but not from nervousness. I trembled with anger and frustration. But I didn't need Joe's arm to stand or walk. Not this time. The adrenaline did that for me. We got halfway to my house. There was a turnoff that led to a favorite secluded spot for lovers.

"Joe, I want to go home, not here."

"Awe, just for a moment, Baby."

"Don't, 'Baby' me, Joe, take me home, this minute!"

Before I could say more, the car stopped and the engine went quiet.

Joe looked my way as he leered at me again and said. "Come here, Bitch, you've been begging for it all night."

He grabbed my arm and roughly dragged me over to him.

"Ouch, Joe, that really hurt. Now let go of me."

Instead, he grabbed both shoulders and pulled me into a tight, hard kiss that really hurt. At the same time, he dropped one hand to my breasts and squeezed really hard.

Uncharacteristically, I hollered, "Ouch. Damn it, Joe, that really hurt like hell. Let go you sex maniac."

His answer was to drop his hand between my legs and dig it in really hard. I was getting nowhere trying to get away from him. He was hurting me, not loving me, even if that is what I had wanted, which I didn't. I momentarily relaxed. I could "feel" his leer.

My left hand dropped between his legs. I reached for the bulge at the apex of his legs and squeezed gently. He really was erect. I wanted to disarm him and yes, I really did want to see what one felt like, even through his jeans and underwear.

"Oh, Baby, yeah."

It was then I balled my fist, moved it forward and then quickly and very hard, into a backhand jab. I landed squarely on my intended target. I got a real howl of pure pain for my effort. And, I was free of Joe's grip as he grabbed himself and howled yet again. Before I pulled away, I repeated my jab, driving his own hands into his hurting tender parts. I got still more howls of pain.

I slid away from him, opened the door, and stepped out. Before gently closing the door, I whispered quietly, "I'll walk home from here. Don't bother calling me again, I won't be home."

The walk on the gravel road back to the tarmac road was relatively short. I was even a fair bit of way down the tarmac before I heard Joe's car throwing gravel all over the place and then screech rubber for some time as he roared back toward town to I assume, nurse his hurt, both physical and mental.

That ended my dating career for well over a year.

It was prom season the following year before I agreed to another date and the reason for mother's well meaning but hurtful comments. Actually, it was a month or more before prom that Timmy began to pay some attention to me. He was shy too, even more so than I. He was a very quiet, nice, unassuming guy. Good looking too.

I was standing at my locker, exchanging books for my next two classes when Timmy stopped for a moment. He stammered a bit at first, but eventually he got said what he came to say.

"Uh, Karen, I'm having real trouble in chemistry. I wondered if I could get you to help me out. I can't afford to fail that course if I want to get into college. I didn't know who else to ask."

Timmy and I were in the same chemistry class section. He sat beside me and we exchange a few words from time to time. Not many, mind you, but we did sort of know each other. I'd never seen him ever talk to another girl, other than his sister, and to darn few guys for that matter. He seemed to be a loner. Shy, as I said before.

I looked his way--into those deep blue eyes under his blond head of wavy hair. He returned the look, staring into the depths of my black eyes while he awaited my answer. That's where I lost it, in those blue eyes of his.

I stammered too. "Uh, y-y-yes, I th-think I can help you out. W-when and w-where, Timmy?"

Darn, was I tongue tied and embarrassed to no end.

"Well, the school library is open for an hour after the last classes of the day. We could go there."

"Sounds like that'd work, Timmy. When?"

"Can we start tonight? That's only if you don't have other plans, of course."

Still shy, not to mention thoughtful and polite. "Yes, I can do that. After school then?"

"Yes, I'll see you then."

We'd already had chemistry class the first period, so I wouldn't see Timmy again until our after school study date. For some reason the day dragged on and on. Timmy and I ate in different lunch periods, so I didn't see him then and we didn't have a study hall in common either. As I said, a long day. I really did want to see him again.

Finally, the bell rang, ending the last class of the day. I went to my locker and unloaded everything but my chemistry stuff. It was Thursday, and the only homework I had for the night was my chemistry class. The library was clear at the other end of the building. I walked in that direction.

Just steps later, as I was passing the restrooms on my end of the hall, Timmy emerged and bumped into me, knocking my books and folders to the floor. I got knocked sideways and was in a slide down a locker door. Boy, he sure was in a hurry to get somewhere!

I gave a little and squeaky, "OH."

Timmy dropped his books and grabbed me under the arms before I could fall any further or get hurt. His wrists and forearms were rubbing the sides of my breasts while we stood face to face and close.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry Karen; I was just in such a hurry to..."

He stopped mid sentance. He also turned beet red in the face. With his light complexion and blond good looks, the red face was highly visible. He knew it, too.

"Yes, Timmy? In a hurry to what?" I teased.

After stammering some again, he said, "If you must know, I was in a hurry to meet you."

"Just meet with me or see me again? As shy as I was, where that came from I just didn't know.

"Uh, uh, both."

"And which do you want more, to meet me or to see me?" Where had my shyness gone? Far away was my hope.

"No comment."

"You know, you really can let go of me now. I thing I can stand up on my own."

"Oh, oh yeah,"

I laughed as Timmy turned to hide his renewed red face and picked up my dropped books and papers. The chemistry text, workbook, and work sheet notes made a bundle. Then he retrieved his own books. Tim's locker was in the middle of the very long hall. We walked there side by side. He left all but his chemistry stuff and we walked off to the library.

We took a table toward the back of the room. There were several others also taking advantage of the space to study together. Two of the others were also couples. With chemistry the topic, we were not shy with each other. Timmy was intelligent and quick to catch on with only a little help from me. The hour flew by.

We had just explained our respective reasons for having achieved eighteen years of age and still only juniors in high School. In my case, I missed a year and a half of school due to illness back in grade school in Kentucky. Keeping me out the second semester to wait for the full year in the fall made me two full years behind in grade level.

It was a similar situation with Tim. In his case, a learning disability caused him to not be promoted on two different occasions. Once his dyslexia was diagnosed and treated, he did fine. As I said, he was and is quite intelligent. But he ended up two years behind in grade level also.

"Time to close up shop, kids," said the teacher's aid, come monitor.

Darn, time to go already. I was quite disappointed. Timmy frowned.

"Can we do this again tomorrow night?" We have that big test on Monday and I'm not ready for it yet."

My heart skipped a beat and I paused just a moment before I answered in the affirmative.

"But we'll have to find somewhere else, Timmy, this library's not open after school on Friday nights. How bout the public library?"

"Good, but how will you get home?"

"I can call Mom, both now and again tomorrow night. She'll come in and get me."

Believe me she will, especially if she knows it's because I've been with a boy, I thought.

Timmy walked me to the public pay phone near the school entrance and office. Mom would be right in. She sounded giddy when I told her I'd stayed after school to tutor a classmate and she found out it was a boy.

School dragged even worse the next day. We finally got out and found our way to the public library. But we spent a scant twenty minutes studying chemistry and the next three hours, straight through the supper hour, talking about ourselves and our respective families. We immediately felt comfortable and at ease together. Needless to say we began dating. We only had five weeks before prom.

My mother was ecstatic. I finally had a boyfriend! We dated once a week in his father's 1950 Studebaker. It was twelve years old. But one of the things I found out about Timmy was that he wanted to be an auto mechanic. He was in the auto mechanics classes in school and he kept the old Study running in tip top shape. His dad had a much newer car for his own use.

We were both still too shy to initiate anything sexual. I sat next to Tim, as I now called him, and he put his arm around me. But that was it. His arm remained chastely on my shoulder and my hands remained clasped chastely in my lap. In the four dates before prom, it took until the fourth one for Tim to even kiss me. That wouldn't have happened if I hadn't initiated the kiss. Neither of us pushed it any further.

Mother was so enthralled that I was finally dating and going to the prom, she outdid herself in scraping together the money it would cost for me to go. Darling Daddy came through with enough to make up the shortfall in Mother's little stash of cash.

First came the clothes. A new red velvet and strapless cocktail dress. with all the accessories. On the outside, those included black patent leather shoes with one inch heels, matching black vinyl clutch purse, and a single strand necklace of faux pearls. There was also a single strand pearl bracelet. The necklace was matinee length and fell to the top of my generous cleavage.

Oh yes, cleavage. I certainly did have cleavage. My normal school clothes certainly wouldn't indicate it, but I had very generous breasts for my body. Not overly large, but still, very generous.

Ordinary bras uplifted me enough to provide lots of cleavage had I chosen to display what I had. (How's that for shy?) But the staples thing for the cocktail dress gave me even more. Matching red panties, garter belt and red stockings made up the inside or underside garments.

God, I was showing enough bare shoulders and chest skin that it embarrassed me to death. But I was also proud of my body and willing, at least this time, to make my classmates look and drool and to envy Tim.

There was more to me than met the casual eye and the bummers at school were about to find that out. Maybe, just maybe, I was coming out of my shell.

The makeover included a trip to the beauty shop. Hair first. I had a complete redo. Waist length went to shoulder length with a roll at the bottom. Narrow bangs in front over my wide forehead and long face. Even without makeup, the face that stared back at me in the shop mirror was that of a young Lauren Bacall of the late forties or early fifties. I had pictures in my room of her and lots of other movie stars of that era to prove it.

Oh yes, one other thing. Dad coughed up the money for a pair of contact lenses for me. No more ugly eyeglasses. It was the final icing on the cake that was the new me. WOW!

Getting ready on prom night was more than I could stand. Actually, it was more than Mother could stand which in turn made it difficult for me. I was nervous anyway and Mother made me even more so.

Until just over a month previously, she thought there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd get to the prom. She was so high strung, she nearly fainted. In fact, I almost wish she would have so I could have had some peace to get ready.

I was just ready when I heard Tim drive into the yard in the faithful old Stude. I came down the stairs from my room just as Tim entered the hall where the stairs ended.

Dad's mouth fell open when he caught sight of me just over halfway down. Tim's jaw also dropped. In fact, Tim actualy staggered back just a bit. Mother just beamed.

I think Daddy was about to say something about my state of dress (undress?). One glance from my mother was enough for him to remain silent.

Tim was stammering again when he tried to complement me. He didn't look all that bad himself. He stood six foot six and was dressed in a sky blue tux and frilly white shirt. A dark blue cummerbund circled his waist. With his light complexion and blonde hair, broad shoulders, the whole package looked like a Greek or Roman adonis. It was my turn to drop my jaw. I didn't quite get the job done.

Tim offered me his arm. I took it. Then, out popped Mother's camera. We posed at the foot of the stairs while we indulged my parents. Tim whispered we had to go to his house for a repeat performance before the camera there. That's why he set the time to pick me up so as to leave sufficient time to get to the banquet in the high school cafeteria on time.

The evening was beyond belief. In the car on the way to the school, Tim put his arm around me as usual. But this time, after a couple of hesitant tries, he dropped his hand to the verge of my cleavage. Not in it, just right above the necklace that hung in the way.

Once he got on the main road into town, I moved his hand. I moved it down on top of my right breast over top of my dress. Tim turned red as a beet and moaned once.

"Leave it there. When you have to shift, you work the clutch. I'll move the shift lever."

It was a column, stick shift. Automatics were available back in 1950 but this wasn't one of them. However awkwardly, we managed the cooperative driving. We only stalled out once.

Tim had to remove his hand to restart the car, but he was hesitant to replace it until I reached for it and guided it back where I wanted it.

The first time I'd put jis hand there, I was outwardly calm and straight forward about it. Inside, I was all aquiver. This time, I was more calm inside. Not completely, but a little. The jitters now were from arousal, not nervous tension. Oh, alright, maybe some of both.

We got through the banquet with little trouble, seated side by side. The meal was Iowa school hearty, but quite good. We enjoyed good conversation and jokes and laughed heartily at the will and prophecy of the graduating seniors.

Most satisfying to me was the looks, nay outright stares, I received before and quite often during the banquet. I think everyone who looked, dropped their jaw nearly two inches in shock. Several of the younger and even the not so young male teachers did a double take.

"That can't be her," was the typical comment from fellow students when I was lucky enough to hear the speaker. "No way," was the usual reposte from the speaker's date, or a nearby girl. "Lucky, fucking bastard," was also uttered by the senior football jock from the one date I'd had the previous year. I just gave them all an enigmatic smile.

When we finally got to the dance in the gym, I was about to bust. I'd eaten too much, my date looked good enough to eat, and I felt deliciously sexy. God help me, I was so aroused that my panties were wet with my girl juices and my nether regions burned with a desire unknown 'til then. And my boobs, as I now called them, were in dire need of attention as well.

A slow ballad was playing as we entered and I melted into Tim's arms.

"Dance with me, NOW."

Tim almost had to carry me onto the floor I was melted so much into him. We danced into a darker corner, Tim's arms around my waist, mine around his back. We bumped pelvises. Tim tried to back his enormous erection away from me. My hands immediately dropped to his butt and pulled him into me as tight as I could manage.

"None of that, Tim, you keep yourself planted against me right where you are. Don't you dare try to back away."

Tim turned two or more shades of red. No one could see it in the darkness, but I knew. It was just his way. He stayed put. In fact, he dropped his hands to my butt. We slowly rubbed against each other as we danced.

"Oh! Shit, Tim said in a whisper I could barely hear.

"What, Tim? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm so embarrassed."

"Why, Tim? What's happening?"

"I-I-I j-j-just, uh, I just c-ca..."

"You just what, Tim?"

"Jesus, Karen, this's hard enough to bear. If you must know, I j-just c-came in my p-pants."

"Oh. Well, don't worry about it. No one else will know."

"That's just the point, Karen. There's so much and my tux pants are so light that anything soaking through will show right off."

"Well, your going to keep dancing with me for now. Maybe it will dry soon and solve the problem."

So, we kept dancing. Up close and tight we danced. Tim's erection quickly returned--to my delight and Tim's consternation. He finally gave up and relaxed, still holding me close. I dropped my head on his shoulder and contentedly nuzzled his neck, giving him light, pecking kisses and rubbing with my nose. My hands stayed on his butt and his hands on mine. We sat only during the fast dances. Otherwise we were on the floor for every single slow dance and just circled in a daze with our new found hunger for one another.

We came by ourselves and because we had eyes only for each other, we stayed by ourselves. There was no specific after prom party. Those would begin the following year. So, we left by ourselves and and drove around for a while. He drove, I shifted again.

"This is awkward, Tim. Take us out to the point."

This was not the same popular spot half way to my house. I wanted no reminders of what happened there. "The Point" was quite a bit further. It overlooked a fair sized but man-made lake. It was, however, yet another popular make-out place. We must have been early. We were the only car there when we pulled in.

Tim killed the engine and we just sat there for some time in silence and contemplation. Tim again has his arm around me with his hand resting on my dress on top of my right boob. But I was nervous again. My shyness had returned. I wanted more, but Tim didn't seem inclined to initiate more and I held back as well.

Stalemate? More or less. We sat that way for quite some time longer.

My left leg was finally letting me know I'd better shift it a bit before it got any more numb than it already was. I must have moved too abruptly and with a little too much force.

Tim's hand was attached more tightly than I realized. So, in the process of shifting, my fragiley attached dress top came loose and my strapless bra with it.

Suddenly, both my boobs were bare and exposed to the cool night air which had predictable results on my nipples. They went erect in an instant. When my nipples erect, they do so with a vengeance. This time was no different. Bang, and I had inch long, stiff and quivering nipples.

Tim let out a gasp and a deep groan as his hand dropped onto my bare right boob. His touch nearly seared my boob. It must have nearly seared his hand as well because he sure jerked it away fast enough. He stared with astonishment at my bare chest.

Astonishment quickly turned to lust as I let him stare, speechless, for some time. Then, without conscious thought, I reached up and grabbed that hand which I then plopped right back onto my bare boob.

"Oh God, Tim play with it. Play with both of them. Do it, now please."

Another deep groan escaped from Tim's mouth as he complied. His hand moved over the boob and nipple again. While still groaning, he lowered his mouth to my other boob and went to work on it with his lips and tongue. Oh God, I was on fire with desire. I simply sat still and reveled in Tim's sensuous touches.

The dam had finally broken for both of us, I guess.

Novice that he was, Tim was still good enough to capitalize on my arousal sufficiently to bring me to a shivering orgasm just working over my boobs. I was suddenly glad he had those damned plastic seat covers over the cloth seats of the old Stude. I certainly would of soaked where I was sitting if the plastic wasn't there. My God did I ever unleash a flood of aromatic girl juice.

Tim smelled it too. He groaned deep and hard. He could no longer hold back. He unzipped and dug out his cock. He stroked himself quickly, but I stopped him just as quickly.

"Let me do it," I blurted out.

Aroused desire was winning out over shyness.

I stroked him more slowly than he'd been doing himself. I wanted to feel his cock. to look at it, and I wanted to watch it squirt and dribble on my hand.

I was especially intrigued to watch his bulbous cockhead pop out of his foreskin on my down stroke. The process fascinated me. Tim's breathing became increasingly more shallow and rapid as I stroked him.

"Oh, oh, oh God, Karen, I'm going to come. I'm going to come"

With my free hand, I whipped his hanky out of his side coat pocket and held it above his cockhead. I was just in time to see and deflect the first shot down onto my wrist and warm fingers. Six more shots followed, each of a decreasing volume of cum.

With help from a Kleenex box on the floor in back, I first got Tim wiped off and then myself and the plastic under me. When I looked again, Tim had put his cock away and was zipped up again. I think he was so embarrassed that he was near tears. Why, I didn't really know.

I slid over next to him again, my boobs still blatantly bare and practically glowing. We sat that way for another hour. Tim's right hand idly caressed my boobs the entire time.

Unconsciously, he was fondling me with such finesse that he had me in a nearly unendurable state of arousal the entire hour. God but I wanted some more of him and his cock. But Tim's shyness had evidently returned and I was unwilling to push him for fear of losing him.

My God, had I finally found love? Had love finally found me?