Moments of nostalgia
It was late that afternoon, when I finally got through making everything look just so, for your arrival. A couple coasters laid out. As if I had forgotten to pick them up and put them away. My jacket tossed over the back of the chair. Then finishing off the final room by setting my shoes to the side of the door. Reminding myself not to straighten them. I didn’t want it to look as if I intentionally cleaned the house, just because you were coming over.
I made myself remember where we stood with each other in the past. You know, when I played the uninterested, but very flirtatious friend. With you oblivious as to how to approach a girl. Or dare I say it. Actually, have the gall to tell her you were interested.
Sheepishly laughing to myself. I had to admit I enjoyed watching you grit your teeth and bare it, when seeing me with the other guys in high school. All the while knowing you were pining away with the little notions of, “Oh what you’d do to me if…”
But I’m older now. Quite a bit more confident, and tired. Tired of waiting for the time you’ll make a move.
For instance… when I spoke to you a week or so ago, and we were discussing the past… High School, R.O.T.C., little adventures we had shared, memorable moments and so on. You finally admitted your feelings for me, “Way back then.” Funny, you still being so conscientious about keeping them between a “G” and “PG” rating.
“Yeah, I knew.”
When you inquired how. I reminded you of how naive and at times transparent you were in high school. Not to mention oblivious to almost everything anyone thought of you.
You implored for examples. I blurted out, “Brandi” instantly. You insisted Brandi was just a friend, indicating you had no idea how I could come to such a crazy notion.
“Well, whenever I’d say something at lunch, you’d direct your attention to me. It always seemed that this absolute hatred would pierce straight through her eyes while looking in my general direction. She saw the exact same thing in you that I did.”
“And that was?” Curious of the answer.
“Your passion for me.” I could hear the gulp in your throat over the phone. I couldn’t believe you didn’t know. I knew how you felt. I’d always known.
You should be here any time now, I thought to myself while anxiously pacing the living room.
I still don’t know how you couldn’t see it…how much I wanted to be with you. That longing, needing, yearning that traipsed ever so carelessly through my mind. And yet, to this day, behooves me how I cognitively kept those thoughts, feelings, and incessant desires at bay. My heart’s steady beating seemed to increase whenever a thought of you would go strolling through my mind. If I had a dime for every time I’d gone to the bathroom to get myself off during high school. Over the times we had spoken during lunch. Leaving a class we shared. Or even just passing each other in the hall. I’d have a nice little chunk of money. I had to have hit those bathrooms at least five times a day. That’s not even counting all the times you called to come over to my house, or I went to yours. Let’s see. If I remember correctly. I told you once to take the wheel, so I could remove my shirt. Because of how much I liked driving topless. Or for Christmas. When I brought a girl with me back to your house. So, we could play with her, kinda like a present. Shit! I couldn’t have been any more obvious unless I just came right out and said it. No, wait. That would have been too easy. I wanted you to try and approach me.
Over the sound of the radio, I heard a car door close. Walking swiftly to the kitchen (About 15 feet from the front door.) When you knocked, I wanted to seem busy. Turning on the water faucet saying. “Come in.”
Three seconds after the door opened. I turned off the water grabbing a hand towel to dry my hands. Simultaneously turning out of the kitchen just in time to watch the door close its last inch.
Tossing the towel on the counter. “Sorry, hands were wet. Otherwise, I would have met you at the door with a hug.” Lie, total lie. I wanted to keep with the game of cat and mouse we had developed over the years.
As I came to about a foot within arm’s reach, I opened mine slightly, “So…hug?” Sounding a bit amusingly annoyed that you didn’t reach for me first.
“It’s so good to see you.” I stated. As I drew back slightly and did that slow going overlook. “You look good.”
“As do you,” you countered.
Mmh. I remember that voice. Biting down ever so gently. I took my tongue across the inside of my bottom lip slightly pulling it inwards at the thought of it. Not wanting the motion to be noticed. “You seem taller.” I pointed out.
“I’m still 5’9.”
“No, not growth wise. More upright. Confident in yourself. Not so insecure. Like back in the day.”
“I wasn’t insecure! Shy maybe. But not insecure.”
A smirk ran across my face. Followed by a snicker. Instantly thinking to myself. Can he really be this obtuse to his actions, mannerisms in school. “Guy, you were so insecure. Shy, bashful, whatever you want to call it. You were a complete pussy when it came to talking to anyone of the opposite sex. That is, that you found the least bit attractive.”
“No, I figured, if they liked me enough, they’d come to me.”
Seriously?! Wow… barely shaking my head while reminding myself to keep my lips pressed together. Not to make him feel too much a fool for his past actions. “Whatever! Brandi was head over heels for you. Heather wanted you so bad she couldn’t stand it, and you did nothing!”
Your eyes narrowing in confusion, then defensively you jumped back with, “Yeah right! All I can say is… they should have spoken up. I always paid attention. And I never saw the least bit of interest.”
Stating under my breath. Not even realizing at first it was at an audible level. “Yeah well, how about all those times at lunch, when I wanted you to…” Pausing mid-sentence realizing I could hear the words I was sure I was only thinking. Shit! Don’t pick up on that. Did I say “I” God…ugh. I thought to myself.
“Wait... Wha…? When you wanted me to, wha—T?” With that comment, your interest in the conversation perked right up.
Trying to sound as if my mind went off somewhere. “Huh? Sorry, lost my train of thought. What were we talking about?” Shaking my head, but only to appear, “lost” to the past sentence or two.
“You were talking about lunch, and stuff you wanted me to…then you trailed off. Interest peaked. What were you talking about?” This arousing heightened state of interest rolled across your face. Then I was sure it trailed off into the back of your mind. Where it found a dirty little pool of pent-up hormones and twisted desires to swim around with.
“What…no!” Chuckling in light of the conversation. “I didn’t.” Trying to play it off and switch subjects. I knew all too well the naughty little places those thoughts would lead me to.
Cutting me off mid denial. “No. What did you want me to…? You started it. You always said, ‘I’m not a tease.’ Well, not finishing that sentence, makes you a contradiction.”
“Well,” sheepishly laughing. “I can live with that.”
“Maybe, but you have my interest peaked. I’ve grown up a lot. My skin’s tougher. I won’t live with it. You remember High School. You tormented me. You fucked with my mind every which way mentally, sexually a person could get fucked. And I was left none the wiser to any of your feelings for me. Until a minute ago. In my mind you had none. Not one single iota of a feeling for me…I’m listening.”
Masking the thought with laughter. “You don’t want to go there.” I said trying to steer your mind away from that pad locked place in my head.
“Yeah, 11 years, you on my brain during almost every physical encounter I’ve had… I’m pretty sure I do.”
Sounding as sympathetic as possible, “That’s OKAY, I’m able too,” Slightly closing my eyes. Turning my head to the right, while sucking my breath in, only to make that faint sound of a slithering snake against the back of my teeth and the flat of my tongue. “Better left closed. You ever heard of Pandora’s box?”
“Really.” You had this smooth confidence about you as you went on. “Then bring it. It’s been 11 years. I’m a big boy now. Who knows?” Shrugging your shoulders with the slightest bit of sarcasm hanging at the fringes of the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I’ll be out of my league…like before. “With the briefest of pauses to make your statement a bit more pointed before continuing with, “But I’ll give it my best… after all, they’re only words…about a long time ago.”
“OKAY then.” Already feeling a bit hesitant of telling you for the fear that you may have grown out of that fixation on me. Not to mention, my fantasies from back then would probably seem far too weak, and lacking, to you now.
Mustering up the courage, I began. “At lunch period. You always seemed to get to the cafeteria before me… Wait… there are three or four scenarios that come to mind. Which one do you want to hear?”
“One?! 11 years. Remember? I’d like to hear them all.”
Taking a deep breath in through my nose. Then letting it back out slowly, so it wasn’t detected by you. I continued.
“Alright. Do you remember the cafeteria in high school? Well, um, yea.” Allowing myself to breach the tiniest of smirks as I continued. “I have to admit. I always hoped for a seat right beside you. Especially on Wednesday and Friday. R.O.T.C. uniform being mandatory. As I’m sure you remember. Girls had the option of skirt or pants. Now normally, I’m not a skirt person. However, I just couldn’t resist the exhibitionism that ran along side of that particular thought process. In the hopes that you’d act on my fantasies. Both days always lacked one thing in school… my panties. I remember, always wanting so badly to take your hand while under the table and move it over onto the top of my thigh. Then beginning by bringing my fingertips back and forth across yours. After a minute or so, I’d then proceed to coerce your hand towards my inner thigh. With that… I’d imagine you leaning over while beginning into a whisper. That was barely even loud enough for me to hear, let alone anyone else surrounding the table. As you finally came to within about a 16th of an inch of my ear, you began.
“Now what would you have me do? I believe you wanted me here. Maybe…this?!” You brought your middle finger ever so lightly across my nylons, exactly in place of my clit. There, pausing, with the steady tap, tap, tap, of your fingertip. Leaning back into place at the table. You continued eating while talking with the others around us. All the time steadily repeating that tapping. With the thought only going just so far. Goose bumps would trace my whole body, and there they’d stay through the remainder of lunch.
After a few moments, you leaned back toward me to whisper something more. This time though, you drew into me so close your bottom lip brushed against the outer edge of my of my earlobe, sending the cilia from the nape of my neck racing past my shoulder. Running down the back side of my arm and shooting out of the tips of my fingers in this jolt of electricity, that instantly sent my body into a frenzy. You continued. “So… what now? Hmmm? Maybe?”
I felt… I know… he isn’t. He woul… Shit! My eyes began to widen. Immediately I closed them and turned my head towards my plate. Your middle finger abruptly slid over, then under my hose. And quicker than instantly found the slit between my lips. Five seconds. Six times, seven times… Shit! Nine times. It would take everything in my power not to yelp like a little dog. Uump. I murmured internally. Sixteen, seventeen, uuh. Wanting the whimper to be more vocal. I could feel myself tightening and beginning to throb. Your finger sliding in and back out again, so fluently. Laughing to myself quietly.
“What?” You interrupted.
“Oh, hmph. I just remembered when that thought went through my mind. Another quickly followed.”
“And that was?”
“Normally I would have had my volume well under control. But damn. Uugh. Okay, so continuing on with my fantasy at the table. Just as you had done minutes earlier. You’d lean back and continue your normal lunch going ons. 30, 3-…. I can’t take it; I won’t take it. I... While looking down. I heard my name. One of the girls at the table said it… I opened my eyes, averting my attention towards the direction of the voice. The entire time I’m trying to maintain my composure.
‘Hmm’ I sounded out. Barely loud enough to hear in the raucous of the cafeteria.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘No… nothing. Mm.’
‘Nothing? Seems like something.’
‘G— Gi-rl problems. Mmh.’
‘Oh... Sorry, man. I feel ya.’
Gritting my teeth... ‘Doubt it… uh.’
The entire time while talking to someone else. That unbelievably cocky smile stayed constant on your face.
Without thinking, I cleared my throat. Trying to mask the drive.
You turned to face me, (all the while, smiling) barely raising your eyebrows…’Hmm? Did you say something?’ With your finger staying consistent. Gliding in, then out of me. Feeling my insides swell tighter, and tighter with each passing stroke… I couldn’t bring forth words. Instead, a single shake of my hand, and my glance reverting back to my plate would have to suffice.
I could feel it. I could feel that point getting closer, and closer. Now that I’m thinking about it. I don’t know which I feared worse. Cumming in the cafeteria? No…” Snickering softly to myself. I continued. “Never mind. Fear!? Yeah, that would’ve probably intensified the orgasm. Maybe, Heather to my left, and Brandi in front of you, or… perhaps, even something as trifling as keeping my voice down. Ten more seconds. Hold it… hold it… I wrapped my hand around your wrist and tried ever so diligently to pull you out of me. It seemed a feat nearly impossible. Being that I was already so weak. Weak in the knees, joints, wrists, arms, and everywhere else for that matter. Due to what you were doing to me. Not to mention, every time I’d try a little harder. You’d press a little deeper. Finally coming to the conclusion that I was clearly out of options. I felt reverse psychology might be my only escape.
While attempting to keep my composure, and my mind frame as steady as possible, I leaned into your ear. Then started with... ‘So… Now what? Do you want me to cum for you? Huh baby? Do you want me to... Uuh... (Whimpering mid-sentence.) Just barely break any form of sound while doing so. Will that get you off? Mmm Or, maybe... Keep my head down and get off in silence. With the orgasm making my pussy grip your middle finger tighter, being the only sign? Hmh? Maybe… While I’m cumming… Every time I throb… I stroke your cock?’ Getting a little bit more forceful with my whisper as I ended the statement. ‘You know it’s hard… You’ve been fucking me with your finger for the last twelve to fifteen minutes. Wishing it was your nice, hard… uuh…’ Biting down on my lower lip. Only to contain the volume on that twinge of a excitement…continuing, ‘cock inside of me…so… mmh… how do you want it?’ I leaned back into place and stared at my potatoes. At that last statement… I believed… I knew I’d fucked up your mind frame. That steady pace fumbled for a moment. At least, I thought it did. After about twenty seconds, I felt you lean in to whisper something more. My hormones were so shot. When you came within six inches of me, my head slightly twitched away from your lips. Leaning in a bit more than usual towards my shoulder, nevertheless, I was able to maintain my place.