Memorial Day was just around the corner and Sindy was excited! She and Ryan had consummated their relationship over New Year's Eve and the following few days and now the two of them were living together in her apartment.
The relationship was still a bit of a secret from Sindy's parents. They knew she had a boyfriend but they had no idea how serious the relationship was. They also had no idea that he was living in the apartment they paid for every month.
In her freshman year at Northwestern Sindy had started working at a local coffee shop where she met Ryan. Ryan was five years older than Sindy, on the verge of graduating and merely looking at him made Sindy’s pulse race faster.
Ryan for his part was initially unaware of Sindy’s interest in him. But over the course of the year he’d come to the coffee shop to study and he gradually started to notice the cute girl with the blonde hair always staring at him. He found himself appreciating the graceful curve of her modest breasts and her almost ever-present smile.
It was a few days before the end of September when Ryan asked Sindy if she’d like to go out for a date sometime. Naturally she said yes.
A tall, shaggy-haired fella came up from the basement guest
bedroom, then strode the hallway, and called up the staircase to her 2nd story
bedroom, from near the front door. Lindsey felt her stomach flutter once again.
Jackson was actually back from college. In his hand, he carried a suitcase of
his own, and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled at her as she came
down the big oak stairs, and she nodded.
What had started out with the potential for so much
disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite
wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner
was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes.
After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told
stories of the last few years.
After my first semester in College, I was eager to go home
for the holidays. I was going to school in Rochester, New York, and anybody
who'd experienced the lake-effect winters on the Great Lakes would understand
my desire to get to somewhere warmer.
For me, that somewhere warmer was a long ways away. As a
military brat, home was often a moving target, and that winter it was Santiago,
Chile, where my father was stationed and where I'd graduated high-school. It
was summer in Santiago, and I was looking forward to a pool-party with my old
school mates for the Holidays.
Christmas Moonlight by the Glenn Miller Band played on the
RCA Victor radio as Lillian O'Brady looked at herself in the full-length
mirror. She was happy with the way she looked in her wedding dress. The sleeveless,
tea-length gown gave her a flirtatious and fun look but not so much that she
gave away traditional modesty. The slender bodice and fuller skirt emphasized
the curves of her chest and hips.
She had made the dress herself from a McCall's pattern and
was very proud of how it came out. Not only did it compliment her body but also
her frugal lifestyle. As she pivoted around to check all the angles there was a
knock at the door.
On Christmas Eve, I should have been out spending time with family or friends, but instead, I was in my sparsely-filled apartment, with a wine glass in my hand; all dressed up but nowhere to go. I put on my gold sequin mini dress thinking that I could maybe go out to a club.
But when the time came, I wasn't really feeling it. I had just moved to a new city; far from my family and friends; and although I had enjoyed the freedom of walking around in the nude whenever I wanted, it was getting a bit lonely. I never pictured myself in my early twenties and still single. All of my friends were either married, engaged, or dating. I was totally lagging behind. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.
In college I could barely concentrate on class and I never took notes because I was always thinking and developing some sexual fantasy in my head that took my full attention. I go by ‘Mindy’. My parents named me Melinda, but I hate that name. I hate a lot of the things associated with high school. I was a wierdo. Then in college, I was a nerd.
But Haley and I discovered their shameful secrets.
"I'll rip your fucking dick off; and stuff it down your
fucking throat, if you knock-up my daughter." It was Mr. Boyd Summers, the
father of my girlfriend Haley. He was very angry.
Haley and I, both 18, having recently graduated from high
school were sitting in her parents' kitchen listening to the diatribe from
Haley's father.
Haley spoke up, "Daddy,
we're not doing anything like that. Please don't say things like that."
I opened the door and stepped inside, announced by a
jingling bell.
"Dale, good morning," Brooke said, standing and
extending her hand.
Clad in tight black slacks, a red blouse, her dark hair held
in place by a large gold clasp, and shoes with moderate heels, I was reminded
that she was an attractive lady. And that didn't include the unforgettable pale
blue eyes.
"Good to see you, Brooke. I'm ready to sign
whatever."
"I have the papers ready." She spread some papers
across her desk.
The five of us, Joey’s parents and mine; flew to
California to meet the ship that brought Joey home. We didn't get to see him at
the dock. He was whisked into an ambulance that we tried to follow in our
rental car.
At the hospital, his doctor took us to his office. Joey had
been shot and captured. His injuries weren't life-threatening, and they stopped
the bleeding at a Viet Cong field hospital. He was taken to a prison camp for
debriefing.
"The heat waves shimmered in the distance, rising off
the sand in an unmerciful display of mother nature's authority. We lay where we
had been for hours, in the only good cover around. Off to the left, we heard
enemy snipers, the gunfire signaling the start of another day in Hell."
That was part of a letter Joey wrote after his unit fought
its way back to base camp. He wrote as often as he could. Sometimes, I'd find a
stack of his letters in the mailbox when I got home from work, and then, I
wouldn't hear from him for a while. Whenever his family got any news, they
would call me or visit to share the letter. I did the same for them. I always
let my folks and Joey's read what we wrote, including the parts where Joey and
I talked about getting married when he got home.
"Good morning, Jake," his mother said when he came
downstairs for breakfast.
"Morning Mom," he smiled at her. "Something
smells good."
"Scrambled eggs and bacon," she smiled. It was
still his favorite.
Jake just smiled, made a plate for himself, and his mother,
and sat down at the table while she was taking the last of the eggs out of the
pan and putting them into the bowl that he had just half emptied to make their
plates.
Jake awoke from what was apparently a very good dream since
he could feel his erection straining against his boxers. Lying on his side,
facing the wall, he was still in that transition between sleep and wakefulness.
Taking a deep breath and stretching he noticed a distinct and familiar smell.
It was floral and fresh with a hint of strawberry. He started to roll over but
something was pressed against his back. Craning his head around the first thing
he saw were bare feet with red painted toe nails, ankles crossed with one foot
lightly bouncing. Turning his head further, he saw bare legs, smooth, shapely,
tan, and athletic. He next saw blue-jean shorts over narrow hips, a tucked in
white tee shirt concealing firm, proud tits, one of which was covered by a
cascade of blue-black hair which came almost to the waist, a long slender neck,
clean jawline, supple lips, narrow nose, and deep emerald green eyes. The eyes,
and the lips, held a smile as Jake looked at his unexpected visitor.
When we got back to our room, Gretchen went into the
bathroom and changed into her pajamas. I changed back into a t-shirt and
basketball shorts. She sat up cross-legged on her side of the bed, leaning back
on the padded headboard. I stretched out on mine.
"Pretty spectacular day," I said.
"It really was," she agreed. "I hope
I didn't ruin the evening for you."
"Not at all. I had fun at the pool." It
had been sort of obvious that she hadn't really wanted to hang out with Tom and
Melissa, any more than we did. I could understand. I've never fantasized of
doubles matches either. Besides, it had been a long day.
Forward: The students in this story are
in their final semester of Rhode Heritage Preparatory School ,in Rhode Island.
The school systems in Rhode Island have a custom of waiting until a child is 7
years old, to accept them into first grade. Hence, the 12th grade
class is also a year older, and all of them are 18 years old. Copies of their
birth certificates are on file in the principal's office. Rhode Island has some
other approaches to social issues, like granting tax credits to parents whose
teenage girls are compliant with reliable birth standards. It saves the state
millions in otherwise inevitable welfare programs. Most girls opt for the
implanted hormone, but some chose the IUD. This is also said to be a reason
Rhode Island girls have bigger tits, because of the added hormone-based birth
control. Thank you, governor!
