Perfect Nails

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Perfect Nails



by Kelly Blake

Edited and Proofread by
Andrea Lena DiMaggio and Alison Mary
Artwork Provided by Belle Meade

Author’s Note: When I first wrote this little tale, I thought of entering it in the Romance contest. Somehow, due to my negligence, this wasn’t done. I wish to do so now so that should anything become of it, the ‘team’ of Andrea Lena DiMaggio, Alison Mary, and Belle Meade get the recognition they truly deserve.


My Reunion…

I stared into the mirror of my vanity and started applying the third coat of mascara to my lashes. ‘I have to be out of my fucking mind’, I thought to myself. Whatever possessed me to agree to attend a tenth high school reunion? Really! Anyone I wanted to see I still saw; all two of them.

I really didn’t want to know who got married and who gave birth and who came ‘out’ and who died, and who was making it big time. I was such an over achiever in high school that I really didn’t permit myself the luxury to become a center of attention and, in truth, I really didn’t want to be one anyway.

The only person I truly did want to see probably wouldn’t even be there. It wasn’t his style. And he probably wasn’t even in the state. I wasn’t really sure that I even wanted to see him. He was my first love and, to be brutally honest, my only love.

Oh sure, there have been others. In college, especially after getting ‘the cut’ at the end my junior year, I spent as much time between the sheets as in the class room. But it was simply not the same. It is said that one’s first love is forever remembered. Maybe that’s true. After all, he knew me during my transition (I hate that word…transition, ‘rebirth’ is more like it) and he never flinched or turned his very broad back to me, even in the midst of my occasional hormonal hissy fits.

We were the most unlikely couple one could possibly image. He was a jock. He was not a super jock mind you, but a jock none the less. He played baseball. He simply loved to play that game. He loved to hit the ball and that was what he did best. I think playing ball was the only reason he remained in high school as long as he did.

I was the complete opposite. I lived for school. I excelled at everything that didn’t require perspiration or equipment. This was the gene pool I happened, by seer fate, to be born into. My father was a psychiatrist and my mom was a psychologist. They lived for their journals and books. I was one of the youngest seniors ever in the school. Jimmy was one of the oldest.

Our first meeting was out of complete necessity; his, of course. He had several universities interested in his athletic abilities. But…and make that a very large BUT…he had to graduate and he had to get some kind of scores on his SAT’s. I was a volunteer tutor. And so my tale unfolds.


The first time we met was one for the books to be sure. I was sitting in the school library waiting for my assigned student. Jimmy walked into the library and looked around as though he had never seen it before. He eyed the rows of neatly stacked books with what I could only describe as a shocked look on his face.

Oh my God! He had such beautiful baby blue eyes. And he was so tall! I wasn’t exactly short at five feet eight inches, but I was very gangly in build. This was also the work of my gene pool. My dad was only five feet eight and inches and my mom barely measured five feet and four inches. Both were also very slim as was my sister.

But James Ryan Hughes was every bit of six feet and four inches. He weighed about two hundred and thirty pounds and he was sooo completely bluff! He had straight dark brown, almost black hair that fell across the front of his face.

One of the student volunteers walked up to Jimmy and asked if he needed any help. Jimmy’s vocabulary was a wee bit less than average and most of the words contained four letters.

“Do I fuckin’ look like I need your fuckin’ help!” He roared so loudly that everybody, including some kid outside the building, heard him.

His stare alone would have frightened most away and this poor student was no exception. But for some reason, I wasn’t afraid of him. I don’t know…there was something rather vulnerable about him that I couldn’t place, but I could feel. Behind his swagger and attitude was a small kid in a really big kid’s body and that kid was scared of something. I rose from my seat and walked up to him.

“You fuckin’ look like you could use my help.”

He looked down at me and gave me his famous ‘I’ll break your fuckin’ skull’ stare. I started to giggle and had to contain myself least I start to laugh. He finally smiled at me. I guess he saw me as no threat and maybe realized that I indeed was there to help him.

I must say that his smile was…dazzling. I felt something that I rarely felt in the past. I got that ‘tingly’ feeling of excitement that I didn’t recognize at the time, but would yearn for in the future.

“You’re the tutor? How fuckin’ old are you?” He laughed.

“I’m old enough to be a senior.” He stopped laughing. He stared at me for several moments.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Patrick Kelly Maguire, but my family calls me Kelly. I hate the name Patrick.” People would call me Pat, or Pattie, or the old folks up north would call me Paddy. Kelly was fine with me. It was my mom’s maiden name.

“Quiet please! This is a library!”

Jimmy looked at the librarian and was about to make one of his expletive laced statements of dissatisfaction. I reached out and touched his arm. I think I startled him a bit and he looked at me. I shook my head slightly indicating that it would not be a good idea to voice his opinion of the librarian and her family. He nodded at me as we stood in silence for several more moments.

He looked around the room once again. He was deep in thought.

“Listen, let’s go somewhere else. I don’t like being closed in, you know? Maybe we could go out to the tables and sit there. Okay with you?”

There was a pleading look in his eyes. I looked around to try and see what he saw; what was unsettling to him. I couldn’t discern what the problem was, but if he was more comfortable somewhere else, that would make it easier for me.

“Okay.” I went and grabbed my book pack and walked side by side with him to the tables.
Dear Lord that seems like so long ago. I feel almost like I’m going to my school prom, only my image of myself, and my gender, would be ‘correct’ this time. I can’t believe I actually bought this stupid gown. That’s Chrissie’s doing. He had to go and help me. After all, this entire event was his idea to begin with.

Anyway, we walked outside and over to the lunch tables. Only one or two people were there and I let him pick a spot where he could feel comfortable. A soft breeze was blowing in off the ocean and the sun was high in the cloudless sky. He chose a spot under a pair of palm trees that shaded us and he sat down. He put his hands over his face and began to rub or massage, I wasn’t sure which, his features.

“Just how bad is it?”

He peeked out from between his fingers and stared at me for a moment. I smiled at him gently whilst he decided whether he would tell me the truth or not. He finally put his hands down on the table and laughed. He had such a nice open laugh that came from deep within him.

“It’s not real good.” I was to learn that he was never one for many words. “I think I’m basically passing everything…” He hunched his shoulders quickly. “…I think.” Then he straightened himself up and turned, sitting at an angle facing me. “It’s those fuckin’ S.A.T.’s! All I usually get are the fuckin’ points for signing my fuckin’ name, plus a few lucky guesses!”

Okay…so vocabulary was high on the study list. I mean, I know those words but really you need at least two or three alternatives with more than four letters. I assumed that he wasn’t much better at math. I had my work cut out for me. We decided that we would meet twice a week to start with and thus began our relationship.


We met at school the first few times. We always sat in the same table and he seemed to actually be doing the small assignments I gave him. It was at our fifth meeting that he made a discovery that was to cement our…friendship?

“Your nails!”

Oh shit! I had forgotten about that. My sister, Corie, short for Coreen, had done my finger and toe nails. Actually, to be more precise, she had given me a manicure and a pedicure. I had watched her do her own forever and I was curious. Well…maybe not curious…envious would be a better word. I asked what it felt like to have the polish on and I told her how beautiful I thought it looked.

So, being the good and attentive older sister she was… she shaped my nails, cut back the cuticles, and applied three coats of a clear but slightly rose tinted polish. I found the entire process to be totally thrilling. I sat patiently and quietly the whole time. She talked away at a mile a minute about everything and anything; this was all so very second nature to her.

Now I must explain that my sister was, is, and always will be, my Goddess of Femininity. She was simply the most ‘girly’ girl I have ever known. She also was the most honest and loving person I’d ever known. Corie understood my curiosity and, rather than simply feed it, or defeat it, she would help me explore it.


When I was fourteen I watched her get ready for a date. She was putting on her ‘face’. I was entranced by how much she could change her appearance with a simple swipe of color here and there. Corie noticed my rapt attention to what she was doing and, with a smile, turned toward me and started doing my face as well.

“Let’s see what you could look like Kel. Your skin is so perfect!” She looked carefully at me as she turned my head from side to side. “I think we can skip the foundation. Gawd!” She squealed in mock anger. “You don’t have a single zit! I hate you!” She laughed.

Corie began to do her thing and in ten minutes or so she had completely made up my face. When I turned and looked in the mirror, I was…shocked! I looked wonderful. I looked like a teenaged girl on a Saturday night. My eyes looked so large and… OMG! I looked…hot!

“Let me clean up your brow line just a bit.” I was still somewhat stunned at my appearance and didn’t quite hear what Corie said.

“Now hold still. This’ll only take a moment.” She turned my head to face her.

“Ow!” I hadn’t noticed the tweezers in her hands and I certainly didn’t realize what she was going to do. “Stop!”

“Listen sweetie, you look so good that we should go all the way.” I looked into her eyes but could see no deception in them.

“How much are you going to do?” I didn’t want to be some sort of a freak with two pencil line thin brows. I would never survive at school!

“Just a few baby. Don’t worry! It’ll be the Brook Shields look.” She smiled and went back to work.

Good to her word, Corie only did a few stray hairs and blotted the areas with a mild astringent. It stung a bit but she said it would clean and close the insulted and assaulted pores. When I turned back to the mirror, I understood what she meant. She had simply better defined my brows and rid me of a few hairs.

“There really isn’t much we can do with your hair. The length is too short. But if you let it grow a bit…” As her words trailed off I looked into her hers as she smiled at me. She was giving me a hint. Corie applied some mousse and combed it straight back. I turned to see my image and tried to envision what an extra inch or two, or three, of hair would do in terms of fulfilling this new image she had endowed me with.

“You know Kel…” As if she was reading my mind. “Just a few more inches and we could really do something with it. Then you could merely comb and gel it back for school. But looking at myself in the mirror, I really didn’t want to comb it back for school, or remove my make up either. I was looking at me! I was looking at a new, but very comfortable, image of me.

“Let’s go downstairs and show you to mom.” She took my hand and began to pull me behind her. I felt so conflicted about ‘revealing’ who I was to mom. But Corie kept up a stream of chatter that centered on the way I looked. We finally walked into the kitchen where mom and dad were sitting and having some coffee while they read their journals.

“Look! I have a new sister!” Corie giggled and was so full of joy when she introduced the ‘new’ me to them. Mom kind of stared at me for a moment, as did dad. I expected to hear a barrage of negativity, or worse.

“You look…quite lovely dear. My God, you do look very lovely. What do you think Jack?”

My dad was frozen with his cup half way to his mouth. Mom actually looked amused but there was a note of excitement in her voice.

“I trust that you’re not planning to go to school that way. It would be asking for trouble son.” Dad immediately dove back into whatever he was reading.

The disappointment must have registered on my face. I mean, I already was the target of derisive comments simply because my GPA was the highest in the school. I had already heard the other names reserved for the boys who were less than…boys? But the harassment was never manifested in a physical manner. After all, it was totally the ‘burbs’ and fighting in school was almost unheard of.

Bless my mom because she found a solution that would work. She sensed that I was somewhat conflicted about what Corie had done and she wanted me to explore this new persona with some direction perhaps, but not interference.

“Well Jack, I don’t see any problem with Kelly ‘playing’ dress up at home if he wishes to.”

“Mmmhhhmmm…” Well, it was more than a tacit approval.

If I wished to? If I wished to!!! OH…MY…GOD!!! My dad looked at mom, and then back at me. He shrugged his shoulders and that was that. So every chance we got, my sister and I would ‘play’. I became her living Barbi doll. We were so much alike in coloration and size, at least at that age, although she already had major boobage, that clothing was the next natural step in my progression toward transitioning (I really hate that word!!! Okay…so my rebirth).


Perfect Nails

“Your nails!”

Oh my God! Here it comes. The big ‘OUT’. I swiftly pulled my hands off the table and sat on them. I felt myself flushing red and I was on the verge of tears. The fact that I was also in the midst of a hormonal rush didn’t help. I was crying a few times a day as it was. ‘Oh…it’s nothing…just my allergies…’.

Jimmy looked around and leaned in closer to me. He suddenly wasn’t smiling. He had a serious look in his eyes. Not angry mind you, simply serious.

“Let me see those nails.”

Without looking at him, I slowly slid my hands out from beneath me and put them on the table; palms up of course. He again looked around. He suddenly sat up and looked over my right shoulder. His face grew tense.

“What are you fuckin’ looking at!”

His very loud comment was obviously directed at someone behind me. When he was satisfied that the other person’s attention was diverted elsewhere, he grasped my hands and turned them over. There was no hiding anything now.

He stared at each nail in silence. There was a look of curiosity on his face and his brows furrowed. His gentle grasp pulled me out of the deep, dark, and very scary place I was in.

“Did you do this yourself?” His voice was soft and gentle; almost a whisper. He was looking at my down cast eyes.

“My sister started with three coats and I’ve been adding one or two a day.” My voice was a soft whisper.

“But…why?” He didn't seem shocked. He was merely curious.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked off to my left. “It’s pretty…” My voice trailed off as I turned and looked at him. “I like the way it looks and feels.”

I felt strange with Jimmy holding both of my hands. His hands were so much larger than mine with their long thick fingers and calluses from holding the bat, or whatever those powerful hands held.

“You must think I’m weird, right?” He had to think that at the least. I was so frightened of what he must think. All of those words I’d occasional heard that were tossed my way rang in my ears. Oh God! He was still holding my hands and looking at my nails. He seemed fascinated by them.

“Listen. There are fuckin’ guys running around this place with black nails and purple nails. Now that’s pretty fuckin’ weird. This? What you’ve got? It’s…well…pretty fuckin’ cool looking. They’re like…perfect, you know? Not a single flaw. They feel so cool too. It sorta looks like a glass covering.”

Now he was making circular motions on my nail with the tip of his finger. To be quite honest, I was becoming a bit excited. My hands in his; his touching and rubbing my finger nails; his body being so close to mine; it all was so very titillating. I didn’t know what it was about him but something was…well…distracting and exciting?


Out and About

My nails…hmmm… They look good for tonight. Tonight!!! Oh my God, what time is it? I’ve got to get going! I don’t know about this gown though. I think its way fancy for this type of event. An ankle length, ancient gold sequined, halter necked thing might prove to be way much. After all, this wasn’t a ball or some other gala type of event. But Chrissie def said formal. For a school gym? Oh well, it’s too late now. I might as well get dressed.


I remember the first time I truly got caught dressed. And it was Jimmy who caught me. I started my HRT just after turning fifteen (dad’s professional courtesies). I woke up one Saturday morning and, after throwing on a robe, went down to the kitchen. My parents and my sister were sitting at the kitchen table having a bite to eat with their coffees. They immediately stopped talking when I entered the room. I stared at them in curiosity.

“Don’t let me stop you guys.” I walked over to get myself a glass of juice.

“We were talking about your situation Kelly.” My mom tended to start family discussions.

“What situation?” I took my place in the last empty chair at the table. I sipped my juice as I watched her closely. I was thinking of what I could have possibly done now.

“Well…” She placed her hand on mine and smiled. “…it’s just that…well…you seem to be very comfortable when you’re dressed on weekends? And your mannerisms, disposition, and tastes are so utterly…feminine?”

I couldn’t deny that I was only truly comfortable when I could dress and hang out with my sister. I had already taken the big step of going out shopping with my mom and Corie on the weekends. I hated when Mondays came and I had to once again put on my ‘boy stuff’. I had taken to wearing panties, camisoles, and thigh highs beneath my shirt and pants. But I hated the way I had to look during school, especially now that my hair had grown out a bit and could be styled…somewhat.

“Yeah? So?”

“So we were wondering if you would rather be a girl than a boy.”

I stopped drinking in mid gulp and nearly choked on what I had swallowed. What a concept! Could it be done? Oh my God! I stared at Corie in disbelief; then at my mom, who was smiling; and my dad, who was on another planet at the time.

“What???”

I hadn’t even really thought about it…the BIG “IT”. I only knew that I lived for after school and weekends. I also knew that I was really attracted to girls more for their fashion styles and ‘looks’ than for…well…physical urges? I stayed away from the boys because I felt somewhat intimidated by them. There were one or two exceptions but they were interested in girls for the same reasons I was. This was how I met Chris in the first place.

“I would like you to meet with a friend of mine and have you take a few tests.”

Well, mom was still smiling although the testing part was a bit frightening. Hmmm… maybe I could study for them? I did find myself looking at the bare chest guys in my sister’s teen glam mags. I would catch myself and wonder why they seemed to be getting me…excited? Not that I got all that excited to begin with.

Anyway, that’s when I started taking hormones. I was a bit young by the standards in this country but there’s an old adage. Well…it’s not that old and F. Lee Bailey, a lawyer said it. “If you have a problem and you have money…then you don’t have a problem.” By the time I met Jimmy, I had been on the ‘mones for nearly a year.

The physical changes were fairly easy to hide. I did freak a little bit when I started to get boobage. I had to wear an extra small tee shirt to flatten them a bit and to keep them from painfully jiggling about. Motrin def became my dearest friend. And not having to shave was so totally divine, well, except for my legs and pits. Fortunately I only had this year to finish and I would start college with a new gender designation.


Anyway…where was I? Oh…yeah…Jimmy catches me en femme. It was the end of September and the S.A.T.’s were approaching (in mid October). Jimmy, in spite of his slow start, proved to be a quick learner. Once he understood the theory of whatever we were studying, he could find the correct answer without even having to think about it. The rub was that I needed to find the proper way to explain things to him and that often required two or three attempts.

Sooo…where was I? Oh…yeah…Jimmy wanted extra help. So what does little Ms. Genius do??? After a bit of back and forth as to where to meet and when, I…that’s right folks…I decide that he should come over to my house …on Saturday!

Of course the remainder of the week flew by, albeit not fast enough for me, and Saturday rolled around. I slept in a bit and, upon rising, I proceeded to go through my Saturday ritual. I had a date with my sister to go shopping in the early afternoon and so I wanted to look my best. We were going to the city to shop for some shoes and various other sundry items.

My folks were not at home and Corie was downstairs when the door bell rang. I was upstairs and I just finished dressing and doing my face. Corie answered the door. I thought it was one of her friends; maybe Naddie (Nadine) or Pam, both of whom were in on my little sacred secret.

I ran down the stairs totally excited about maybe the four of us doing the city. When I saw that it was Jimmy, and I remembered our study date, I screamed…well…more like eeeeeekkked…and ran back up the steps to my room slamming the door shut behind me.

Between Sisters and Friends

Oh my God!!! I feel so exposed in this gown! I had never worn a halter necked anything and the exposure of so much flesh is a bit frightening. Well, maybe more like scary hot sexy? This was definitely not my look, and certainly not my taste, doing the ‘speaking’. Hmmm…I could mousse my hair and comb it straight back in kind of a butch look. I mean, a wedge with a modified bob just didn’t seem extreme enough. I should have had hair long enough to put up.

Speaking about extreme and exposed! Corie told me that Jimmy scratched his head and backed out of the house to check the number. Then he walked back and stared at Corie with a wide eyed look of surprise.

“Was that who I think it was?”

Corie kind of stood there in her wide eyed ‘shock and awe’ mode at this tall, handsome, really buff guy who came to see her sister. Her sister? ‘He should be coming to see me!’ crossed her mind. She was at a loss for words.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…”

“Well, maybe I should go and see? I mean I came here for tutoring with Kelly. Was that Kelly?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…”

Jimmy called, well, he actually shouted my name. I was in my room, sitting on my bed clutching a pillow to my body. Oh my God! This was not merely tinted nail polish. This was full blow dressed! Complete with cosmetics and inch and one half heeled pumps. I was in a jean skirt with a pearl pink silk camisole top trimmed with lace. There was no easy explanation for this!

“Kelly! If you don’t come down, I’m fuckin’ coming up!”

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…”

Oh my God! He would do it. But I was frozen in place. I simply couldn’t move a muscle. I felt so embarrassed. I heard foot steps coming up the stairs. He would be at my door in seconds. I was absolutely terrified that he would…freak out completely.

I heard a gentle knocking on my door.

“Kel…it’s Corie. I’m here with Jimmy and I really think you should open up the door and come out.”

Come out…come out? COME OUT?! Who was she kidding?

“Kelly…just open the door and talk to me.” I heard a pleading sound in Jimmy’s voice.

“Nobody at school needs to know, I fuckin’ swear.” Well…I knew he did that and way too often I might add!

Somehow, in my stunned state of mind, I managed to raise my tear stained eyes from my pillow. “It’s open.” I managed to squeak that out between sniffles.

As he entered the room, I buried my face in the pillow again. Corie must have followed right behind him because I smelled her scent. I felt her sit down next to me on the bed. She put her arms around me and tried to comfort me but I was beyond repair at that point. I felt her get up off the bed. She told me that she was leaving the room but the door must stay open.

“You know something? You do look sort of cute. I could get a better look if you weren’t so fuckin’ attached to that fuckin’ pillow.”

I giggled in spite of my tears and my…condition. Now there was a thought for you; my face permanently attached to a pillow. Jimmy’s voice was very calm. I never noticed before but his voice was also quite deep and resonant. I found that mildly exciting in spite of my circumstance. I slowly raised my head from the pillow. My eyes were still downcast. I couldn’t look him in the face.

“You know, you are more than cute. You’re quite beautiful. Now what’s this all about?”

Jimmy got off the chair by my desk and came over to sit on the bed with me. He kept a space between us but he turned his body to face me. I shrugged my shoulders, still sniffling and fighting back more tears. I was still tightly clutching the pillow to my breasts.

“Listen, I didn’t tell anyone about your nails and I won’t tell anyone about this. I only want to understand what’s going on. Are you a guy masquerading as a girl? Or are you a girl dressing up like a guy at school? And why are you doing this anyway? Why can’t you just be you, whoever that is?”

I think that was the most he’s said up to that point…ever! And he asked questions that were right on topic, as we say. I finally looked up at him (I was always looking up at him) and into those gorgeous baby blues of his.

“This…” I pointed both hands inward toward myself. “…is who I am.”

“So…what about school and the guy thing?”

“Well…that’s me as well. But I’m not comfortable that way. So I’m kind of changing, you know?”

Jimmy looked at me for a moment trying to digest what I had told him, which really wasn’t more than I needed to.

“Well, it seems to me that sooner or later you’ll have to make a choice.”

“When I enter college next fall, it’ll be as a girl. I’ve been taking drugs that are changing me.”

“Hormones?” He wasn’t totally ignorant.

“Yeah…the ‘mones. And my mom and sister are helping me.”

“Yeah, well I can see that for myself.” He smiled. I loved that smile of his. His entire face would light up. “So…what about us?”

“Huh?” Huh? Us? US!!!

“Yeah…the tutoring and stuff. You still want to help me or not.”

I felt both relief and disappointment when he defined us. I didn’t understand my attraction to him at the time. But I did get up to garner my books and I led him down to the kitchen to begin our session. And our session did go well. Of course he couldn’t take his eyes off of me, especially after I washed my face and redid my make up. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I couldn’t believe he was so accepting of me.


My helping him at school became even more difficult because I had to concentrate on teaching him and not staring at him like a love sick kitten. And then there were the inappropriate questions. One afternoon, just before the S.A.T.’s, we were sitting outside at ‘our’ table when from out of no where, he leaned toward me and asked, in a very soft voice;

“What do you do with your…” He looked around again. “…tits when you come to school.”

I explained, in an even softer voice, that I either bound them with a soft wrap bandage, or I wore a tight tee shirt beneath my clothes. I would blush and smile and answer whatever he asked. ‘Yes, I’m wearing panties. No, I sit when I go. I don’t know, but I think I like guys.” It went on and on.

Then, one day he came out with the big one.

“You want to do something? I mean, we could get lunch or see a movie or something. Would that be okay?”

He asked me at school! If anyone else had heard our conversation, we both would have been dead. Hmmm… Let’s see…did I want to go out…on a date…with him? Fuckin’ yeah!!! My face must have said it all because he smiled right back at me.

“It would have to be a Saturday or a Sunday though.” I wanted to be who I really was. “And it would have to be away from here, you know?” I was so afraid of being spotted and outed before ‘my time’; before I was ready…you know…complete? Now all I needed to do was get permission from my mom. Dad was still off somewhere on a distant planet
.
“Oh my God!!! With that guy? With what’s his name…Jimmy Hughes?” Nothing, and I mean nothing, was ever discussed without having a family meeting. Corie was more than slightly dismayed; she was miffed (you REALLY have no idea how much I love that word)!

“You’ve got to be kidding! I should be going out with him…if he was my type. He’s nineteen for Christ’s sake!”

“Language honey, language.” Certain things brought my dad back to reality…for a moment or two.

Corie nodded at dad as an apology. “I think it’s a bad idea…a very bad idea.”

What did she know anyway! I mean, it’s not like we’re boy friend-girl friend. We’re not going steady. And he did say during the daytime. What was the big deal? Mom sat quietly with one elbow on the table and her palm holding her chin. She listened to Corie and then looked at me.

“Well… I don’t see any problem with…”

Corie’s jaw hit the floor! Mom said yes. Oh my God! She said yes! But there were a ton of conditions. None of this and no that and be sure you’re home by, and so on and so on. I didn’t care. I would have agreed to anything for ten minutes to ourselves and away from home, and the school. All I really wanted to do is to speak with him. I knew very little about him other than the fact that everyone at school was afraid to mess with him.

Saturday, the appointed day, couldn’t come quick enough. He was to pick me up at home and we would go to the city and have lunch and see a movie. It took me forever to get ready. I needed Corie’s help to pick out what to wear and even then I changed my mind three times. I was so excited!

I finally chose a mid calf skirt in a sand color with an apple green camisole. I wore thigh highs (I hated pantyhose) and a pair of apple green skimmers to match my camisole. My make up was an entirely different story. Corie had to help me with it, albeit reluctantly. I wanted to look a bit older, more mature maybe? I simply didn’t want to look like a fifteen year old girl.

Through the entire make up session, Corie was giving me advice and warnings, especially for when we were in the movie theatre. She had these dos and don’t and what ifs. Then she began to quiz me on what she told me. I tried to tell her that I felt safe with Jimmy.

“None of them are safe! They’re guys” I was somewhat surprised at her attitude considering she spent so much time going on dates and seemed to be even more enamored and entranced by boys than I was.

Fortunately she finished my face just as Jimmy pulled up in his car. I heard him knocking at the door and I stood up ready to rush down to answer it. Corie grabbed me by my arm as I started to go. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Wait, let mom answer it. You always keep them waiting a few minutes.” Under her breath she looked at me with a frown. “I can’t believe she’s letting you do this.”

I frowned back at her. I didn’t understand her attitude about this entire date thing.

“Why are you being this way Corie? You’ve never acted like this before and I thought you were all for me being who I wanted to be.”

Just then mom called up to me. Corie still held my arm and, looking at me, she told me why.

“It’s because I love you and I worry about you. Mom use to say that to me but now, for the first time, I understand what she meant.” Then she hugged me and let me go. “Walk down slowly sweetie!”

Jimmy was in the foyer speaking with my mom. Or, rather, she was interrogating him. At first he seemed really relieved to see me. He smiled. But then he sort of became mesmerized by me; the way I looked. He was all wide eyed and I expected him to begin drooling at any moment. At first I thought something was wrong with me.

“Do I look okay?” It took him a moment but he finally got his words together.

“You really look…great…beautiful.” His smile became even bigger.

I turned to my mom for the final inspection. I think her eyes began to well up a bit; her ‘daughter’s’ first ‘date’.

“Well?”

“You do look lovely.” She took me by my shoulders. “Better take a sweater with you though. It may get chilly later.” She went to the closet and after rummaging a bit, she handed me a white knit pull over sweater. I turned toward Jimmy.

“Shall we?” He nodded and opened the door. He took my hand and we walked out. I could hear mom and Corie begin to have an animated discussion about the entire thing. “I think we’d better run for it.”

We walked quickly to his car and, after opening the door for me to get in, and of course closing it, he ran around and got in. I’m sure the sound of screeching rubber from his tires gave them a great sense of security.

I asked him if this was his car. It was then that I found out the particulars of his life. It was his aunt’s car. He lived with her because both his parents drank and he didn’t want to be around them. Once he turned sixteen, he left them and went to live with her until he finished high school.

His aunt was his mother’s sister and she decidedly loved other women. Her chosen significant other had been with her for years and the two of them welcomed him in. He was, of course, from the ‘other side of the tracks’; literally. His father was a janitor and his mother worked at an industrial laundry. He had no brothers or sisters.

He told me that he really didn’t know what to think of me. This ‘girl’ thing was kind of a surprise. But he also told me that nobody ever spent so much time trying to help him with his grades and tests.

“So you have to remember that I’m really fuckin’ nervous.”

“Listen…” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, or how to say it, but this ‘fuckin’ business had to stop. He was better than that. “…Jimmy? Could you please not say fuckin’ so much? You are such a smart guy and when you say that, it’s all people hear. You know?”

“Yeah…you’re right. Okay. If you catch me, then remind me. It’s just something we say in the neighborhood, you know?”

His hand was atop his thigh. The feeling was…simply delicious! I place my hand over his as I looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah…I know.”

We talked all the way into the city. He took me to a diner that specialized in their grilled hamburgers and hot dogs and various sodas. They had an old fashioned soda fountain and a long counter with stools that had rotating seats as well as tables and chairs.
From the moment we sat down to the moment he brought me home, one half hour early I might add, the day was almost a complete whirling blur. It seemed to me that we were the only two people on the face of the earth as we strolled through the weekend crowds of shoppers and day trippers. The day wasn’t about anything other than us.

We talked. Through all we did we talked. He talked. It was as though a great dam of thoughts and emotions had burst as the words poured out of him like a wall of water through a narrow valley. I smiled and listened though the words meant nothing as I heard them. I was entranced by his smiles, his frowns, his arms flailing, and his raging depth of emotions. I felt what he said more than anything else.

I had never spoken to anyone, nor had anyone speak to me, exposing such a vulnerable and naked side of themselves. I felt almost like a voyeur as he spoke. His was a slice of life I had never known. There were times when he would touch my hand, and I would hold his. He would bring me to shed tears though I really didn’t know why other than I couldn’t image him speaking like this to anyone before. I thought of how sad and lonely he must feel.

We never got to the movie. We walked through the crowded streets. He put his hand on my shoulder putting me in front of him. Then he drew me closer and put his arm around me. I felt somehow safe, sheltered from the jostling we occasionally encountered.

We walked into the park along the New River and he removed his car coat length leather jacket. He spread it on the grass and we sat and talked. I sat facing him with my legs folded to one side. I suddenly felt the urge to simply lean into him and he welcomed me with his embrace. As I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, I inhaled his aroma. I found myself becoming excited being so close to him and inhaling his aroma.

In spite of the strangeness I felt in my mind, my heart kept telling me that this was okay…not just okay…but right. This was what I was meant to do. And this was the person I was meant to do ‘it’ with (whatever ‘it’ was). He held me snugly and kissed the top of my head. I died. My old soul left me and a new one replaced it. I actually felt myself wet my panties though I hadn’t even become erect (which was something that hadn’t happened in months anyway).

I put my arms around him as it happened and held on for dear life! I trembled as the moment overtook me and I buried my face into him even more than it already was. I think he knew what had happened but he had the good grace not to say anything. He simply held me and let me have that moment.

I learned two things that day. I was totally entranced by him and I must always wear a panty shield because whether I was with him or not, I could have another ‘moment’ and I really did not enjoy soppy undies or wet spotted skirts.

The Kiss

“I don’t think your sister likes me.”

I didn’t care. I had to pee pretty badly and I wasn’t ready to say good night to him under THAT kind of pressure. I opened the car door and literally sprang out and ran…well…I walked quickly, and nearly crossed legged, to the house and went inside. I thought that he would figure it out. He did.

When I returned from doing my business, and freshening up just a bit, he was sitting in the kitchen being given the third degree by my sister. My mom was at the table merely listening, and smiling. His back was to me but when he heard my steps behind him he stood up and turned to me. I could see the look of relief on his face.

He said he really should be going and I understood that. It had been a long day, and I’m sure, an emotionally draining one for him. I felt good about the day, especially when he took my hand in his, in front of my mom and sister no less, and started for the door.
We walked in silence to the driver’s side of the car and he turned toward me, my hand still in his. I’ll never forget what he said.

“Nobody had ever helped me the way you have, or talked with me like you did, and I don’t know how I’m going to look at you in school after today. I only know that I can’t see you any other way then the way you are right now.”

He was looking directly into my eyes as if he could see deep within my soul. I felt myself blush and I had to look down at my feet as I smiled.

“And how do you see me right now?” I had to hear it. I wasn’t very sure what was coming but I did have to hear it. He looked off into the distance. Whatever was coming, he seemed to be searching for the right words or collecting his thoughts. Then he looked directly into my eyes again.

“You’re the most beautiful…” He looked away for a moment. “…the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.”

I was stunned to say the least! Beautiful? Perfect? Girl? And all of this in one sentence? Then he took me around the waist and pulled me a bit closer. Oh my God! It was coming! I knew it and he knew it. I placed my hands gently upon his chest and looked down as I smiled. Lord I was so…I don’t know…innocent?

He bent his head own coming to within a merely few inches of my face. He was leaving it up to me. If I wanted him I had to go the rest of the way. And I wanted him. So I went the rest of the way. I closed my eyes as our lips touched. I wanted to simply feel the sensation. We both kind of pursed our lips two or three times. It was nice. I liked it.

Oh my God! The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I kissed a guy! I pulled my face back from his for a moment. I looked into his eyes and broadly smiled. I think I even giggle for a moment. Hmm… ‘Let’s do that again’, I thought. ‘That was really nice.’ This time I put my hands around his neck and pulled him back down to me. Again I closed my eyes as our lips met. This time I was really into the spirit of the matter at hand and I kissed him. Our mouths seemed to open simultaneously and our lips wrestled a bit. Well…it was more like massaged then wrestled.

I could feel the passion rise up within me. I think he was already there but he contained himself. I appreciated that. I wanted more and my arms seemed to have a mind all their own as I felt his shoulders and then his back beneath his leather jacket.

I broke the kiss and pushed back just a bit. I looked into his eyes. This time I didn’t smile or giggle. I felt the fire burn within me and it was radiating light through my eyes. He was already there and I now knew ‘that’ look. Indeed, I burned everything about his face into my mind. I never wanted to forget how he looked at that moment. I wished his face to haunt me in my dreams. Be very careful for what you wish…

I pulled him back down to me and again kissed him. This time I held him tightly and gave myself over to the sensation, and to him. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me even closer then I could. It was as if he wanted to pull me inside of himself and I wasn’t about to stop him. I felt his hands on my ass and I loved it!

That kiss rocked my world; shook and rattled my cage; exploded my little universe; smashed my atoms; and made me leak into my panties again. I had been changed in a matter of a few minutes. I would never be the same again. I felt something so powerful, so intense, so…wonderful, that I would forever want that feeling to continue and never cease.

Though all we did was kiss, I had been completed as a girl in the sense that I now knew what it was to be so completely overwhelmed by the sexuality and sensuality of a guy. A part of my innocence had been taken and I simply gave it up to him. And it was him. I didn’t feel that way about other guys although I began to see them in a different way. It was him and only him I wanted.

I don’t remember exactly how it happened but I did manage to find my way back into the house. I must have had the biggest shit eating grin because I do remember my mom giggling when she saw me. And my sister? She simply shook her head in dismay.



The B.J. or; Aural Sex RulZ!!!

Oh my God!!! This gown!!! I do not know what possessed me. I look…fat! And the way my ass shows! Now what am I going to do? I don’t know… Chrissie said I looked…hot in it. I mean…slinky and form fitting were never to my taste and he’s gay. What good is my looking hot to him going to do? Looking hot to every gay male at this…this…reunion won’t get me a man and it sure as hell won’t get me…laid?

Now…where was I? Oh yeah…

The next week in school was…impossible. Every time I saw him, every time I thought of him, I wanted to do is run up to him, throw my arms around him, and kiss him. He wasn’t having any easier a time then me. Our tutoring sessions were absolute torture. We found ourselves staring at one another in longing and desire; silent longing and desire.

He told me, in a very hushed voice, that he wanted to simply touch my hand but he couldn’t. I couldn’t. Not in public. Not at school. Not dressed as I was. Thinking back to that time I can’t believe how deliciously dangerous our situation during the week was.

As my family became accustomed to his particular ways, he began to become sort of a fixture in our house. During the school week, I would come home and immediately bathe and change. He would come over around, or just after, dinner time and we could be together…downstairs and in ‘public’ view.

We could sit side by side, our bodies touching in an almost innocent way. We could even hold hands as we watched the tube or went over some aspect of school work. He would be more attentive then during the afternoons at school when I was in my ‘guy mode’. Of course my sister would watch us like a hawk. And if she thought we were getting too comfy, I’d get ‘that’ look. You know that look; Squinty eyed and frowning; arms crossed under her boobs and foot tapping away like crazy. She was pretty good at ‘that’ look even when sitting.
But even she warmed up toward him after awhile. I guess she recognized that his gentleness to me and his consideration toward our family was genuine. Being a self made cast away from his own natural family called for a rapid adjustment in how a reasonably ‘normal’ family functioned.

He was not stupid. Indeed quite the opposite was true and he had a unique kind of street sense that served him quite well. He wanted to be with me under whatever conditions were predetermined. He not only met those terms, he exceeded them. If I was doing the dishes after diner, I’d wash them off and he would load them into the dish washer…that kind of thing.

Anyway, one Saturday evening we found ourselves alone and at home. We were doing what all good teens should be doing when alone at home with their respective steadies; making out like crazy on the family room couch during whatever was providing the back ground sound on the tube.

OMG!!! Can you imagine? The ‘tube’…that is so last century! I can’t even believe it. So, before we get to the good part, I must confess that up to this point in our relationship, I haven’t once mentioned his dick…or should I say DICK!!! Yeah…he did have one. And yeah…I did feel it every time we managed to get close enough for our bodies to touch. And yeah…his dick was a monster.

I use the past tense because who knows? It might have shrunk. Or…it might have even grown (if that’s possible)!!! I mean, they do amazing things with Botox and collagen. I felt it against my body the first time we kissed. I couldn’t image what it could possibly be because let’s face it, if you didn’t look carefully, you might have missed seeing mine entirely. I mean, it’s ‘look quick…a small town’ versus a megalopolis or something.

Now let’s face it girls, if a man does as he should, that is, to bless us with the mighty BIG ‘O’ (ours…not his) with a reasonable frequency…like whenever WE wish it (just kidding) (NOT!!!), then there is nothing we wouldn’t do for him, or any place we would refuse him entry.

Okay…but what about us? Well, until we get that BIG ‘O’, we def are in control. There is no doubt that the man’s power is in his dick and scrot; or, as in Jimmy’s case, his BAT and his BALLS. As long as he has control over that lovely, hopefully matched set, he has the power.

However, merely rub your hip against it, even when clothed, and his power begins to slip away. Wrap your hand, or mouth, around it and its Kryptonite to Stupidman. Grab it and start walking? He’ll follow you anywhere! He’ll follow you everywhere! He will promise you, and get you, anything and everything if you only “oh pleeeze baby…just a little rub?” Or…”come on sweetie…just lick it once?”

I was so fucking (he did have that influence on me) naíve and innocent that I surprise myself. It was my sister who had to educate me. I mean, I was in transition (I really hate that fucking word…I prefer rebirth) and I really didn’t know anything about guys in general so who could I ask? Mommy? No way! Could you imagine…”Oh Mom, how far should I go with him tonight? Should I blow him or what?” It simply doesn’t work that way in our home.

Corie was super resistant at first and I understand that. I mean…she has to ‘come clean’ (pardon the expression) with the details of her own experiences and that’s not real easy with a younger sib doing the asking. It also means that her head and her heart have to be in the same place and space about my being reborn ). Rebirth is so much more descriptive, don’t you think? I don’t think that( this was totally true with her at the time. It took a couple of days for her to come around and that seemed like a lifetime to me.

“He’s not forcing you, is he?!” She suddenly turned red and became a bit angry. I was somewhat stunned at her question. We were in her bedroom on the bed in our ‘bed time’ apparel; large tee shirts and our panties.

“No!!! This is something that I want! I mean…I want to do more. I want to give myself to him.” I did. I felt this need to do something different; something special and new to us.

“If anything, he’s very…I don’t know…shy?” I could feel her tension release. Corie looked down and pulled her tee hem over her knees.

“Cause you really don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…or anything that doesn’t feel…right. It never works and all that happens is that you feel like shit afterwards. You know…used?”

I thought I could see a tear well up in her eyes. I was again somewhat shocked.
“Oh my God!”

She looked at me. “Listen…some guys do that. They give you the line about their needs not being met and how they go home in pain from the teasing and it’s OUR fault that they feel this way and everyone else is ‘doing it’ and all of that shit.”

“Nooo!!!” I was insistent and scowled at the thought. “It’s not like that at all!”

“Okay. Just remember what I told you about it feeling right, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. This is between us, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I guess you need to know this stuff and it’s better that it comes from me than one of your weird friends.” I was a bit pissed off at her remark but, for the sake of important info, I kept my mouth shut.

“There are three things you can do. You can jerk him off with or without his clothes on. If you’re pissed off at him, do it with his clothes on. Then he has to go home with that mess in his pants.”

She giggled at that. I sort of knew what she meant having done that to myself in bed a few times before the ‘mones’.

“You can suck him off but that’s def not one of my favs…I hate the taste and the mess but they really get off on that. You don’t have to swallow that crap…remember that.”

I sat in awe of what she was relating. I really couldn’t image my sister, Coreen Kelly Maguire, doing these things at all. It was like…’as if’…!

“You know Lizzie Cline?” I shook my head ‘no’ in wide eyed wonder. She continued in a very muted and conspiratorial fashion, bringing her face right up to mine. “Well, she keeps this glass in her night table simply for spitting that mess into whenever her boyfriend is over and nobody else is home.”

I need to explain that we went to different high schools. Neither one of us wanted to wind up in the same classes or with shared friends. She was certainly more of a ‘normal’ student with good grades; and three years my senior. Being in the same school and grade would have been a problem for both of us.

“So what’s the third thing?”

“You don’t need to know that now? But if you think about it, you can guess it for sure.”

I thought of only a moment.

“Oh my God! You’ve done it?!” Oh my God! My sister’s done it? I think she was becoming more relaxed about talking to me because she giggled before she answered.

“Yeah. You don’t know him? But I can tell you that I shouldn’t have given it up to him. It was kind of a mercy fuck, you know? He kept asking and asking so I did it. The next day? Like it was all over the school. He was telling anyone who would listen. It was such a major drag. Everyone thought I was such a slut and like every guy wanted to date me.”

“Oh my God!” I was beside myself with anger at some guy I didn’t even know. He sounded like such a douche bag! “So what happened?”

She giggled again. “This is like too good! I ‘fessed up and said that he was short and spewed as soon as he got there…” I giggled. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this stuff from her. “…and that he wouldn’t lick me and get me off!”

“Eeeewwwwww! Then what happened?” Eeeewwwwww! I don’t eat raw fish either.

“He couldn’t get a date to save his life for the next year and a half!” We both laughed. I wanted to hear more semi-sordid tales from her but it was really time to get down to the facts.

“Okay…” She became very conspiratorial again with a wicked smile on her face. “So, you don’t want to get him off right away. The longer you draw it out, and make it last, the more he’s going to want you.”

“That’s good?”

“You think? Yeah…that’s really good! You grab them around the shaft with one hand and jerk it up a couple of times. They’ll usually cough up some clear stuff…you know, pre-cum? Wait…”

Corie stood up on the bed and then hopped off. She quickly went to her clothes closet and got down on her knees. She kind of crawled into the back and pulled out a boot. After pulling out a pair or two of panty hose (I don’t know how she could wear those) from the boot, she reached into the toe and retrieved a tube of K.Y. jelly and a battery powered Personal Relaxation Device (a six inch long vibrator).

The ‘Dirty Deed”

I don’t believe I need to wear heels with this…this…gown! I mean, an inch and a half really is my limit. But Chrissy insisted I go for the four and a halfers. Stilettos no less. They were gorgeous shoes in an apple green silk; the heel included. And the clutch was matching. I mean, only a man would desire this torturous device on a woman’s foot, you know?
So…where was I? Oh yeah…Corie and the PRD (6” V).

“…let me show you.”

“Eeeewwww!!!” Eeeewwww!!! Was she going to show me what she does with…it??? Corie read my mind and giggled.

“No silly! Not that.”

And so she went on…and on…and on about the proper way to do a BJ. I sat in rapt awe at her sage advice and technique. On the one hand…hmmm…is that a scratch on my nail? Hmmm…okay…it’s merely the lighting. On the one hand, I was studiously making mental notes and visualizing myself with Jimmy. On the other, oh…my…God! This is my sister talking about what she knew and had obviously done! I was sooo clueless.

So…anyway…there we are on the couch. I had already let him get to second base and though my plates were on the smallish side, he was still there and safe. Motrin was still my best friend and he was sooo very gentle on my nips and breasts. I would cream, well it was actually more like water by that time, my panties from his simply kissing my nips.

Anyway, I have my blouse and bra off and he’s shirtless as well. BTW…he also would get a stiffy when I would reciprocate by kissing and nibbling gently on his nips. I really got off on hearing him moan and groan as I did my thing. What was interesting was that I tended to do to him as I wanted him to do to me. Isn’t that like a ‘golden rule’ or something? Hmmm…

So…Jimmy’s on his back and I’m straddling his waist doing my ass wiggling thing on his crotch (and yes, we still have our pants on). I hopped off of him and knelt on the floor as I kissed and licked and nibbled my way down toward his belt line. He had his hands on my neck and shoulders. He was gently massaging my back and neck as I went along.

I suddenly sat up and began to undo his belt, button and zipper. His pants had been ‘tenting’ since he arrived! With my Jimmy, if he was anywhere near me, it was like…tent city?

“What are you doing?!” He got up on his elbows, eyes in wide wonder and mouth agape and then in one of his ever so dazzling smiles.

“Whatever I truly want. Should I stop?”

He laughed and laid back down. As I slipped his pants down and off of him, Jimmy’s dick sprang up tight against his shorts. Oh my God! His dick looked monstrous! I softly petted it from the bottom to its very tip through his shorts. Where the tip hit against his shorts, the material was sopping wet. It had spread through the material causing the head of his dick to be pronouncedly outlined in the material. OH…MY…GOD!!!


Practice Makes Perfect...O's

These stupid heels! I need to walk around a bit in them. Hmmm… I give it two hours, maybe less, before I kick them off. This is sooo not me! I don’t know. My feet will be killing me and I’ll look fat. Reunions suck and I haven’t even gone yet. My reunion he said. My reunion; like I owned the thing! My reunion my fat butt!

Hmmm…oh yeah! OH…MY…GOD!!! I mean, it’s not like I looked at guys dicks all the time but this was ridiculous! Jimmy’s dick was huge! I mean…not huge but FUCKING HUGE!!! Before the HRT mine must look like a really small zit or something. Anyway, I had to see it. I thought it was like the eighth wonder of the world!

I rested my head on his tummy and I reached into his shorts. My God! I could barely get my hand around it! Jimmy moaned and his body spasmed as if he got hit by a jolt of electricity. I wondered how any girl could possibly get this thing inside of her. God I was sooo clueless.

I lifted the waist band of Jimmy’s shorts to reveal his glorious wonder to my eyes. Oh my God! I could see his dick head, what Corie called the little ‘fireman’s helmet’. It was drooling and moist with his pre-cum. It shone in the dim lighting of the room.

I knew what I wanted to do; what I needed to do; what I desired to do. I quickly slipped his shorts down; never letting go of my grip on his shaft. Once they were down passed his rock hard ass, he did the rest and got them completely off. He flinged them up and out somewhere and I made the mental note that I had to remember to find them should someone arrive home before…I was finished, or he was finished; or which ever came (pardon the pun) first.

Anyway, his dick kind of sprang up and out at about forty five degrees from his body. There was so much force in it that my hand was jerked up along with it! Oh my God! I could feel the entire organ twitch and throb. With my finger, I made circles around its head. Jimmy moaned, and spasmed, and moaned in pleasure again.

I started to giggle. This was sooo amazing and wonderful. Corie was absolutely right! I felt the power I had I had in my hand, and the power I could exert over him. But more amazingly, what I was doing felt absolutely right, correct, and destined to be. In my mind, there was never any question that I was a girl playing with her guy. So there! See if I care!

Sooo…I’m looking at the glistening tip of Jimmy’s dick and I know that the inevitable was about to inevitably occur. I leaned over and licked the drop of pre-cum on the tip. I licked very slowly and with as much tongue surface as I could. He groaned and quaked. I giggled as I savored the moment. It was…salty and kind of yummy in a weird way?

“You don’t really have to do this.”

“Oh yes I do!” I really had to…for myself as much, if not more, than for him. I smiled as I bent back down and kissed the head again, this time I kept going and engulf the entire thing (the head that is, not his whole dick you sillies) in my mouth. I could barely keep my teeth from scratching it, but I did somehow manage.

“Jesus, Joseph and Mary! That is so fuckin’ intense!”

Okay, so I knew it. Like, when you get them to fold in half, that is, when their knees smack them in the forehead and you’re choking at the fold, you know you hit the good spot. He unfolded as quickly…praise God. I still had my hands on Jimmy’s thick shaft and I began to actually suck on him. Each time I brought my mouth up and off of him, I made this popping sound. It was really kind of cool.

I got into this kind of rhythm of stroking, sucking, and popping. It was all I could do to keep it up because Jimmy jerked and spasmed and quaked and moaned and groaned all over the place. He kept bleeding his pre-cum into my mouth. It was sooo…Pavlovian? I mean, if I wanted a little bit of taste, I had to get the stroke right.

It was so very weird. Firstly, Jimmy was cut (no foreskin). That kind of saved the weirdness you can sometimes get when hygiene isn’t a major league priority (or even on the list…cheese really sucks). Eeeeeewwwww!!!! Anyway, I was recalling all of the little things Corie taught me and tried every one except the deep throat thingy? I mean, as if anyone could do that with him. But I could get the first few inches…as past the head and a bit more…before it’s like…gag me with a tree!

Jimmy was popping around like crazy. He was trying very hard not to push my head down any further than I could handle and I loved him for that. He was never insistent and always grateful. I mean, some guys really don’t care and they simply want to get off. But with my Jimmy, I could truly enjoy the moment and I almost always did. I really loved giving him blow jobs.

Thankfully, Corie told me about them…you know them…guys cumming; how to tell when they were close and how to stop them, or promote an end to the event. I must admit it was really hard for me to stay in the moment. I mean one hand was massaging my back and ass and the other my neck and shoulders. Then he began playing with my nips and boobies. Between that and his taste and his smell, I found myself getting too lost and I wanted to be able to watch him shoot off, you know?

I don’t care what anyone else says, watching them squirt is so, I don’t know, completing? I mean, you put in all of this energy and work, if you do it right and it’s like fire works on the fourth, you know? I loved watching him shoot. Thank God I paid attention to my sister. She told me that the first three squirts were the strongest. Those are the ones she avoided at all costs. Corie said that you simply had to jerk them in time with their squirting and that was enough to do the trick.

Okay… But she didn’t warn me about the kind like my Jimmy! He was what I now refer to as an extremely strong secretor (as in SECRETOR). I was into the ball massaging thing when I felt his hands press with more strength on my back. I also felt him begin to stiffen all over, and quake. Suddenly he roared and I couldn’t have timed it any better because my mouth came off his dick head with a pop just ahead (pardon the pun) of a stream of sperm. It was unbelievable! He shot this stream of thick creamy stuff high into the air! I thought I’d be cleaning it off the ceiling! I swear to God!

I sat there transfixed with a huge smile on my face as it fell back down with a splat on his tummy and chest. Then a second huge squirt erupted! Again I watched in awe as it fell back on my hair and face. ‘Nice’ I thought. I could envision my mom: “How was your night dear?” “Okay mom. Oh…BTW…I took a sperm bath.” “Oh…that’s nice dear.”

The third spurt was only high as high as the first; a good sign that this would one day end! After the third I dove down on him, taking his dick head into my mouth. I heard him groan between his roars and shouts of ‘Oh God’ and ‘fuck’.

Four…five…swallow…six…seven…swallow…

I felt like I was on the Olympic Swallowing Team. This was my qualification round or something.

Eight…nine…ten…eleven…swallow…

That was merely a wee bit of stuff. I must say that my expectations of what would occur were not simply met, but wildly exceeded! Jimmy was so very creamy and salty. I continued to giggle even though I still had the head of his dick in my mouth.

Twelve…thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…swallow.

Jimmy final finished, or should I say his dick finished. His entire body seemed to suddenly relax as I kept sucking gently on him.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ! That was…amazing!” He began to giggle as well.

“Really?” I had left his dick with a popping sound and was looking at him.

“Yeah…” He was still catching his breath. When I saw all of the sperm puddles on his tummy and chest, I dove down and began to lick them up. I think that surprised him. Jimmy put one hand on my head and one on my back. He gently massaged me and ran his thick fingers through my hair.

I had gotten most of it when he took my face in his hands and brought my mouth to his. He kissed me. This was no ‘thanks for the BJ’ kiss. This was a heart squeezing, suck the life out of me kiss that left me breathless and with gazed eyes. I giggled and kissed him back this time.

I was in absolute heaven. Not only was I successful at pleasing him, but I really got off on the experience as well. I felt like I was bathed in his essence and he was now really a part of me and I was apart of him. I was dizzy with emotions and stimulated beyond belief.
But time was flying all too fast. I hopped off the couch after we both settled down and ran to the bathroom to get a wash clothe to wipe him off. I managed to wash off what was in my hair and on my face. I pulled down my panties, torn out the liner and wiped myself. Then I raced back with the damp, warm clothe and wiped him off as well.

As we started to put our clothes back on, we heard a car door slam. I looked at Jimmy, who was looking at me.

“Corie!” I spoke with an edge of panic in my voice.

We raced to finish dressing as we heard her key slip into the lock. We managed to take our places on the couch as the door opened and she entered our home. I was brushing Jimmy’s hair into place as she entered the family room. She walked into the family room and, as we sat watching T.V., she gazed around. She screwed up her mouth and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah…right!” She sounded…upset?

“What?”

Corie walked over to dad’s reclining arm chair and reached down behind it. When she stood up, she had my bra in her hand. OMG!!!

“Oh my God!!!” I instantly crossed my arms and placed my hands over my boobies. I jumped off the couch and ran to snatch it out of her hand. Jimmy simply sat there smiling like a Cheshire Cat. I went back to the couch and sat, hiding the bra behind me. I could feel my face redden as Jimmy put his arm around me and giggled.

“It’s getting late and mom and dad will be home soon.” Corie was giving me her finest ‘pissed off older sister’ look.

“Yeah…” Jimmy started to get up. “…I should be going.” I looked up at him with MY best pissed off look. I mean, I felt he was throwing me to the wolves…so to speak. He looked down at me and, putting his arm around me, spoke. “Walk me out to the car.”

I kind of felt…as if! But I really couldn’t resist him. He bid a good night to Corie as we left the room and headed out to his aunt’s car. As soon as we got to the driver’ door, he turned me toward him and we kissed. His holding me and us kissing was becoming second nature to me now.

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you at school.” I knew what he meant.

“I know what you mean.”

“I’ll never forget tonight.”

He’ll never forget tonight? I’ll never forget tonight! We kissed again and he got into the car telling me that he’d call me tomorrow. Then he motioned for me to go back in the house. As I closed the front door, he drove off. Now I had to face Corie.

She was sitting on the bed in her room. I changed into my night shirt and put on a fresh pair of panties. I had wet mine through the liner during Jimmy and my…moments together? I heard Corie call my name and knew what was coming, or at least I thought I did. I walked into her room and joined her on the bed.

“What’s that in your hair?” She reached over and touch my head. OH my God…I thought I had gotten it all. Then she pulled my head over and sniffed at the spot. “Eeeeewwwww!!!”

I couldn’t help myself; I started to giggle and couldn’t stop. Corie tried, in vain, to keep her stern ‘big sister face’, but she started giggling as well. Corie took my hands in hers as we faced each other, our faces inches apart.

“So…you did it, didn’t you?” She was grinning ear to ear. I shrugged my shoulders and giggled again. “You know you kind of smell like…him.”

“Yeah, I had to.”

“He didn’t force you, did he?” Her face took on a look of concern.

“No silly. I had to do it for me. You know?” She nodded her head. She understood.

Corie was relentless in her pursuit of the details. She wanted to know everything. I told her I had followed her instructions to the letter and then some. She wanted to know how big, how much, how…everything! And I told her. I told her, to her surprise, that I liked what I did and would have no hesitation in doing it again. I even kind of liked the way he tasted!

“I would never have believed it! My little sister sucked off a guy! Oh my God! As if…!”

She grinned and, in a strange way, was proud of me. It’s as if I had made a rite of passage into young adulthood with that simple, well maybe not so simple, blow job. We were still speaking long after our parents returned and into the night.


That next week in school was absolute torture for Jimmy and me. To be so very close to someone I was so very attracted to literally hurt. He was no better off then me, especially when we were sitting outside in his secluded little corner of the world. It took all of our strength not to reach out to embrace and touch lips.

Then after school our world would change back into something we were both more comfortable with. And the weekends, my God the weekends; I wished they never ended. My fam was becoming more and more accustomed to Jimmy’s presence. They would, on occasion, permit him to stay over. Though we had a guest room, my mom wanted him in the family room on the couch. She thought that the further away from my bedroom he was, the ‘safer’ I would be. Nothing could be further from the truth.

My Jimmy reciprocated by favoring me with his tongue and mouth right in my own bedroom whilst everyone else was asleep the very next weekend! I was a bit surprised that he did so, and I surely didn’t encourage him. After all, I didn’t want him to do anything that he couldn’t handle or would feel weird about.

But he licked and sucked me! Not that I gave the same sort of display he made. In fact I never even became erect! Oh sure I dribbled a little bit, but the fireworks really didn’t begin until he stuck one of his fingers up my ass. He hit some sort of magic spot and I exploded in a fit of delight unknown to me ever before; even when my dick worked the way one should!

When I saw him the next day, I could see that he was distant and upset about something. He didn’t look at me. He simply sat and, shoulders hunched, his hands wringing, he stared at the floor. I felt the need to reach out with my hand and touch his leg. He flinched. I had to ask.

“What’s up baby?” He shrugged his shoulders. He turned and looked at me. This was the first time I saw fear on his face.

“I’m not queer.”

“What?” What!

“Last night. I’m not gay.”

I was shocked! I hadn’t expected this kind of reaction from him. I didn’t quite know what to say t him. In truth, I felt a little nauseous. What I felt, and what he did the previous evening was no mistake. He felt a strong enough attraction to me to do something…incredibly beautiful and giving. I wasn’t going to let that disappear.

“Look at me baby.” He remained as he was; off into himself. I reached over and gently, but firmly, turned his head to face me. I had tears in my eyes. I was afraid of losing him.

“I never thought you were.” I pulled his face down to mine and kissed his lips. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. I could feel the tension flow out of him.

This, of course, led to our first intimate conversation on personal hygiene if I wanted Jimmy to do that again; which I did. We became as close as two people could be under the circumstances. Outside of school, where ever you found me, you’d find him. Even when baseball practice began in the spring, I’d be there in the bleachers watching along with some of the girl friends. We had to be so very careful and I was.

This soon led to our relationship with Chrissie. I mean, I was already friends with him. Chrissie had a unique situation; he never knew where his parents were. They were always out someplace which left him alone and at home, sometimes for days. I had come out to him one Saturday when Corie and I stopped in to visit and I was dressed as the real me.

Of course, to know Chrissie meant that you also had to know Bryan. Bryan was the largest guy in our school. He was slightly taller then Jimmy and certainly outweighed him. Bryan was in the automotive program and loved building cars and engines.

He and Chrissie had been friends since elementary school and had remained, for some unknown reason, the best of friends. Bryan often defended his smaller friend, and anybody else who needed defending. He always liked to pick on the bullies in whatever school he was in.
Our school wanted to see what would happen in a fight between Bryan and Jimmy but that never happened. Bryan was on his last suspension before expulsion for fighting, and Jimmy had a reputation for street fighting which meant that you’d better come prepared to be seriously hurt if you messed with him. The two of them got along and Jimmy was no bully. He was happy enough to simply be left alone.

Chrissie, and Bryan, also kept our secret well. Both knew the devastating effect something like that could have upon us all. It wasn’t a few years later that Bryan came out as bi-sexual and had become more than a friend to Chrissie. Bryan drove and Chrissie cooked. When Chrissie moved to New York to attend F.I.T., Bryan followed after two years and they’ve really been together ever since.

Anyway, our S.A.T. scores came back in November. Jimmy was ecstatic! He scored nearly twelve hundred combined. This meant that he could attend either one of the schools he elected to go to; University of Florida or University of Miami; both great schools for studying baseball. Not only could he attend, but he would get a complete ‘ride’ at both!
Corie did well on her testing and she had pretty good grades. She got into several schools but she elected to stay in state because of the ‘Bright Futures’ policy which would pay most of her tuition. So she chose Miami. She had no idea what she would study but she adored the night life of the big city and the party campus-like atmosphere.

I had a totally different problem. I was accepted every where I applied in my junior year. With fifteen eighty scores and a three nine-nine (unweighted) grade point, schools were coming to me! I even had three Ivy League schools AND Duke coming after me. Plus there was ample scholarship money available in the technical and health science areas. Everybody wanted the fifteen year old honor roll senior.

This, of course, raised some rather serious questions amongst our now extended family members. I really didn’t want to leave my comfy little nest at home. I’m also a Fort Lauderdale girl, I don’t do cold! So that left everything north of Jupiter Beach out. Spring break in Daytona? As if…Brrrrr!!!

There was also the situation of my not being anatomically correct? What do I tell the room mate that doesn’t send her screaming off into the night? And…with my luck…she’d be a born again something. My sister was more than jiggy with being my roomie. The problem is that only one school I applied to could possible accommodate my ‘special’ needs.

Then there was Jimmy. Oh…my…God!!! I really, really wanted to sleep with him, and he with me, and I mean more than a stolen nap here or there. Having a geographically convenient significant other was so totally cool! And having an understanding roomie wouldn’t hurt.


Feces Occurs

I need to sit down. This vanity was such a wonderful purchase and I love the old fashioned oval mirror with the matching wings. Everything today is sooo pressed wood and mica. I can’t believe I was ever so young and naíve. Hmmm…not too bad… Oh God! My emeralds! I nearly forgot. So I bought myself an emerald necklace, bracelet drop earrings and ring. I’m a very strong believer in retail therapy. They were on radical sale and they really had a lot of blue in them. They also kind of set out my eyes. What time is it! He says; ‘Come to your reunion.’ MY REUNION! ‘It’ll be fun.’ Yeah, right! My feet are already killing me!

Some ten year reunion! My reunion!

Those two years, my first two years, couldn’t have been more perfect had a fairy Goddess mother blessed me. I tested out of my freshman and sophomore years and decided to double major in bio and psych. I could knock off both Doctorates in four to six years blindfolded.
Jimmy, oh my God! Jimmy was coming into his own as a ball player. He started on the varsity squad and hit off of every pitcher he faced. He was batting three seventy eight with a ton of ribis (?) and was being scouted by the majors in his sophomore year. In his senior year he was drafted first round through some wheeling and dealing. Six other players on his team were also taken in other rounds.

Because of my ‘special’ needs, Corie and I lucked out of the freshmen dorms. We were in a quad with its own bathroom and loving campus life in general. It proved easy for her to bunk somewhere else when Jimmy and I wanted privacy. Eventually she simply became accustomed to coming in ‘after ours’ and nodding off to sleep.

My world fell apart during my senior year. That’s when Jimmy told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. I was crushed! He crushed me! Somewhere amongst the mess that constituted my mortal remains was the torn remnant of my rent and bleeding soul. Even now that memory brings a tear to my eyes. There was no explanation or excuse. It was simply; “See you.” I must admit that he was not thrilled about what he had said but at least he had the balls to say it to my face. And I had this vision of his face burned into my mind forever along with his…essence?

I went through the entire self doubt thing. Maybe I wasn’t this…or maybe I should have been that. The only thing I could figure was my extra equipment. Maybe he met someone with a real vaggie and he found that, and whatever came attached, more suiting to his lifestyle. I began to really fixate, and hate, my dick. After a month and a half of crying, I made the decision. I would get the slice and dice.

I had planned to do it once my schooling was finished. I would be in my late teens or early twenties. But now I wanted it done yesterday! I took my exams early and Corie, mom, and I flew to Europe. My surgery was a bit more than the average ‘cut’. A section of my bowel was used to form the new me. My dad had to remain home, but he did speak to me the day before I left. He brought tears to my eyes when he was finished. We sat side by side in the family room.

“I don’t know if what you’re doing is correct. But, then again, you’re smarter than your mom and I put together. I do know that anything you need to do to be happy is really fine with us. Just don’t let emotional events dictate who, and what, you are. And always remember, your sister, your mom, and your dad are your biggest fans.” As my tears flowed, he took my around and whispered into my ear. “I am so very proud of you.” He kissed my head and the next day I was off.

I spent nearly a month in bed screaming in pain and it was a year or so before I dared take it for a ‘test drive’. But once I did it…the big “IT”…I suddenly fell in love with my new anatomically correct body. Cosmetically, it was the best vaggie money could buy. And it still came out cheaper than college tuition!

After our, or should I say his, breakup, I ceased having anything to do with him at all. Even his name brought me pain and tears. I couldn’t help but follow his career in baseball anyway. He was sent to the triple ‘A’ club of a northern team and got called up within three months. Then he did his thing; hit the fuckin’ ball. They taught him how to hit for percentage and placed him fourth in the batting list (?). He wound up in second place for rookie of the year. He missed by three votes!

While he was doing his thing, I was doing mine. For a while, I was bed hopping like a frog on a skillet. When I could find someone who was half decent looking, and knew what he was doing, I might go for a second round. I discovered why my sister sometimes said; “It should have come Teflon lined.” One thing about guys, they always made a mess and I had to sleep in it! Eeeeewwww!

I read that Jimmy, in his second year of pro ball, married some ‘lace curtain’ and moved to the North Shore. My heart sank a wee bit that day. I even tuned in the sports news to see if they had any coverage. They did and my heart sank a wee bit more. She was…gorgeous. She pumped out ‘Irish’ triplets in their first four years of marriage.

Being where she was from, one doesn’t bother with baby diapers; that’s the ‘helps’ job. She got some really cute young colleen from the other side to mess with that. Then, to my shock and surprise, Jimmy’s wife cleaned out their bank accounts, at least the ones she knew about, and split with the nanny! She not only left town, she left the country. They were finally discovered in Southern France.

My first emotional response was …GOOD!!! Fuck him!!! But after seeing the way the media went after Jimmy and dug up everything and anything he’d ever done, I began to feel sorry for him. I mean, there he is, stuck with three little ones, and he’s on the road for two thirds of the year. The press had no mercy. Praise God I wasn’t on their list.

I heard…I think from Chris…of all people…that he bought a house somewhere in town and his aunt and her friend moved in. During the off season he would come down with the kids and his aunt would help out. I have no idea of how he fended for himself, or his children, during the season.

Jimmy was, in spite of all the press he received, being touted as the next man to hit four hundred in the majors. He was burning up the ball parks with his hitting. What he didn’t send ‘downtown’ bounced high off the green monster at home. He got a new contract for multi mega bucks with all sorts of clauses that spelled ‘made’ in anyone’s language.

Then the unthinkable happened! I was watching the game that day. I mean, I rarely watched baseball because aside from him being in it, I really get a little bit lost in what’s going on. Anyway, he came up for an infield fly ball (whatever the hell that is) and when he caught it, he turned to throw the ball but his right foot stayed planted as the rest of him turned. I swear you could hear the two snaps. I nearly lost lunch watching the replay in slo mo. I felt my heart go into my throat instead. I felt the blood drain from my face as they brought out all sorts of people and equipment simply to get him off the field.

Whatever my emotions were, I would never wish that sort of thing on anybody. The first thing I did was call Chrissie. Every once in a while Chris would hear from Jimmy. Chrissie immediately turned on the game while they were going on an on about the instant replay. He too felt shocked by what had befallen Jimmy.

Within two hours Jimmy was under the knife at Massachusetts General where surgeons were attempting to rebuild his leg. I immediately sent flowers to him and I later sat down and wrote a letter expressing my grief for his injury. I also told him that looked back at our time together with fond memories of simpler days and that I am a better person for having known him. This was true. I still felt for him. I remember crying as I wrote it.

Jimmy’s pro ball career was ended that Saturday afternoon. There was some talk of a front office job because they still had to pay him on his contract. In fact they owed him for the next few years. So while he probably won’t get to the hall of fame, he won’t want for anything.

I didn’t hear back from him. I guess with all the fan mail he must have gotten, it would have been tough to find my little note amongst the thousands he received. So I went about my business of teaching at the University. I wrote two books which were accepted as required reading so I was doing alright with my career. I stayed busy doing clinical research at the medical center.


My Reunion…
I must shake myself away from this mirror! I need to finish dressing. Now, where’s my green silk shawl? What! You didn’t think I would expose myself completely in this gown, did you? As if… Now I must go downstairs and wait for those two bozos to show up. Here they come. I see Bryan’s car. Oh my God!!! They’re not even dressed!

“Why aren’t you guys dressed? I’ll look like such a fool showing up with the two of you!” I am really pissed off now! Chris was no help at all.

“We’re changing there.” Somehow his smile really put me off. “Don’t worry. Everything will be perfect. I planned the entire thing. You don’t even have to…you know…’out’ yourself?”

“Well thank God for the small things! That’s all I need tonight. I don’t know how you talk me into these things Chrissie.” I was fuming and Bryan was giggling like a madman. I really didn’t care for this dressing mode and I didn’t really care for this sort of an event. My ten year reunion…my ass!

Oh my God! These two bozos just pulled up to the Riverside Hotel! Little wonder this thing cost so much. They must have reserve the dining room or something. At least it wasn’t the school gym and the smell of a couple of decade’s worth of perspiration!

“Listen Kelly, why don’t you get out with Chrissie and I’ll go park the car.” Well, at least Bryan sort of had a plan. “By the way, you look totally hot tonight.” Gee, thanks for noticing Bryan, you jerk! I threw him a sarcastic smile.

There were all sorts of people milling about on the street. That wasn’t unusual for a Saturday evening on Las Olas Boulevard. I get out of the car with a helping hand from Chris. We walk to the entrance of the hotel. As Chris holds the door open for me, and I walk through, I hear this deep resonating voice.

“Let me see those nails.”

OH MY GOD!!! It’s him…HIM!!! I feel my heart jump to my throat. I’m looking up into his eyes. He’s smiling…such a beautiful smile!!! I can’t believe this. I’m gonna pass out! He is so beautiful…I mean handsome. He’s wearing a tuxedo…black of course. And he’s got on this wonderful collarless linen shirt…kind of a slate grey. Of course he’s not wearing a tie.

“You’re more beautiful then I remember.” That voice!

I smiled as a tear rolled down my cheek. There is weariness in his gorgeous eyes, and maybe the odd line or two about his face. The years had taking their toll upon him physically, and I’m sure, mentally. Then I feel my blood rise.

“You set me up! You set this entire thing up!” Now I’m angry! I’ve been set up by the three of them.

“I’m not that smart. You should know that.” He laughed. “Chris called me up and told me we were having my ten year high school reunion. I asked if you might be there and he said probably not. But he did offer to invite me as his guest.” Oh that sounded so familiar!

“Why did you break up with me!” I was on the verge of major league tears and I felt my face redden. I really didn’t want to make a scene but I had to ask. I look to my left and right to see if I’m making too much noise. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes. He kind of kicked at the carpet as though he was in the batters box; doing that thing they do.

“The coach back in college told me that I was headed for the big show, you know?” He looked at me again, this time the smile was gone and I swear I could see tears begin to well up in his eyes. I nodded. “He told me that if there was anything in my past that I didn’t want everybody to know about, I should announce it before the press did.”

“Yeah? So? What! You were embarrassed about me?” I was angry and now hurt. But he didn’t seem to want to back down or away from whatever he was about to say. He looks off for a moment searching for the proper way to explain this to me. Then he looks me squarely in the eyes.

“Did you hear about my divorce?”

“Yeah. I heard about the whole thing. It seemed to go on forever.” Weeks…at least!

“That year I hit three ninety-six. Bad press didn’t bother me, especially about that crap.”

“Yeah? So?” He looked down at his shoes again and then back at me.

“But if they had gotten to you, and they would have, that I couldn’t stand. You would have been the morning headlines for weeks or even months. It would have made you…”

“Yeah…freak of the week.” I saw a tear flow down his cheek. I had to agree with him. That would have destroyed my world. I certainly didn’t need to be poster girl for ‘Freak of the Week Times’.

“Well…what about Mrs. ‘Lace Curtains’ and all of that?” He laughed. It was an open laugh. He shook his head in disbelief as he wiped the tear away.

“I was drunk and it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Now I laughed. “You know, I still have that letter you wrote me when I got hurt. It’s right here.” He patted his inside jacket pocket. Oh my God…he didn’t use the ‘F’ word once!

He straightened up and sort of loomed over me a bit. He furrowed his brow and in his deep resonant voice, he commanded me:

“Now…let’s see those nails!” He smiled.

He raised his hands and held them toward me, palms up. What could I do? I smiled coyly and put my hands into his, palms down this time. After all...

The End…

Authors Note: I am forever indebted to Drea and Alison for their very kind, and very patient help in the final forming of this tale. Their interest in my little tale couldn’t have been greater than if it was their own. In a sense, this truly was a family project. I am also indebted to my sister Belle for her sense of styling, play, good taste, and wit. The impetus for this tale is a piece by Drea entitled “After All…” Therefore, I dedicate this piece to her. Thanks Mom, Gram, and Sis.


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What a joy and a privilege

Andrea Lena's picture

to be in at the beginning of this story. This particular passage says it all for me.

That kiss rocked my world; shook and rattled my cage; exploded my little universe; smashed my atoms; and made me leak into my panties again. I had been changed in a matter of a few minutes. I would never be the same again. I felt something so powerful, so intense, so…wonderful, that I would forever want that feeling to continue and never cease.

I am so glad to have been a small part of seeing this story come to light. Kelly writes with a zeal and enthusiasm that just amazes me, and her playfulness makes this story so readable and easy to connect. Kelly, dear heart, Thank you so much! Love you!

<

She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Con grande amore e di affetto, Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

I think this is so sweet

I love happy endings. Especially surprise happy endings. Thanks for letting me help, Sis! Belle

OMG!

I felt totally giddy for the entire tale! Marvelous!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Kelly, what an absolutely

Kelly, what an absolutely adorable story that 'Drea presented for you. This read almost as if it were based on a certain person's real life. Hmmmm? I do hope you will consider favoring us all with more stories such as this, as you do write very well. Hugs, Jan

Perfect Nails

A well done story about love and friendship.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Kelly...sweet heart...

I suppose this is what happens when one has even a modest command of our language. It seems you have a 'bullet in the charts', so to speak. There isn't anyone I'd rather see have one. This goes to show that even lil' Irish Brats can write well balanced stories. Brava!!!

Mea the Magnificent

I'm not normally great on 'Sweet and Sentimental' but ...

... this story is just so well crafted and such a delight to read I'll make an exception just this once :) Even though the final conclusion isn't entirely a surprise (though the reason for the break up wasn't exactly as I expected) the journey is so littered with pleasurable moments that doesn't seem to matter very much at all. The bare bones of the plot are well used, it's true, but that didn't detract from my joy and that surprised me.

Thanks a lot ... all of you but specially Kelly herself. Just don't be tempted to continue; it's perfect as it stands.

Robi

THANK YOU, KELLY,

ALISON

'for allowing me to be part of your world.You are a virtual
grand daughter to be proud of----your writing style is so
direct and thoughtful it was an absolute pleasure to sit
here on the other side of the Pacific till the early hours
to read your sweet story.Well done,my "Little One".

ALISON

Superb!

Full of good moments, despite the bad ones. And I [i][b]*loved*[/b][/i] how the ending had Jimmy asking to see her nails again.

Thanks for the good read!


-Christelle

"Fun-loving geek-chick looking for someone who doesn't give a damn about her past"


-Christelle

"Fun-loving geek-chick who's addicted to sunlight!"

So sweet

littlerocksilver's picture

Thanks to the three of you for getting this story posted. It hasn't ended yet, but it's going to end the way it should.

Portia

Portia

Perfect Nails -

Yes Kelly, excellent love story, and they also lived happily ever after!

Thank you.

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

Aww Jeez....

You hit a home run with this one. The characterization was just perfect and the story simple and enjoyable. Thanks for a lovely tale.

Why Won't That Voting Thingy Work?

joannebarbarella's picture

******************** They'd be votes if it would.

Marvellous. A lovely story, great characterisation, beautiful prose, a fine touch and really well edited.

I guess it was set up for a reunion but it worked just fine. Write more. That's an order and if you don't obey I'll get 'Drea to nag you until you do,

Joanne

Simply a lovely story! I can

Simply a lovely story!

I can only echo all the other comments and add "Very nicely done!"

I'm torn between asking for more of Kelly & Jimmy's story or declaring it perfect as it is.

Regardless, Kelly, I want to see more stories from you!

Janice

What a beautiful, soppy, romantic story!

The only flaw I saw was the month in the Hospital after SRS. I spent three days in bed, 5 in the hospital, but was not ready try it out for a year. Never have actually. What a waste of effort. I could have had a pseudo vagie and saved thousands.

Still, I was well written, sentamental, humorous, and will stick in my mind for a while.

Much Peace

Gwen

Totally Boffo

laika's picture

Great story, well developed characters and you riff the english language with the fluidity and grace of a great jazz improvizationist, knowing when to break the "rules" (like ferexample Kelly mentioning her dislike for the word transition way more often than most editors would want...) for the sake of a more dynamic narrative. Jimmy was a great character, you can see why Kelly loved him, and the sisters' honest and close relationship, Corie's protectiveness toward her sister was really touching too. Not sure what the dad's distance was about, he seemed to mostly live inside his own head, but even he wasn't too totally estranged from his family, his kids. From some people I've known I was expecting a lot worse from a family headed by two mental health professionals. I thought the fellatio segment went on a little too long, and I don't mean too graphic---it wasn't at all gratuitous, since you integrated it with their emotional relationship and it was all poetic and stuff about one of my favorite intimate acts---just a bit drawn out, like when Harrison Ford was fighting that tank for 15 minutes in that 3rd Indiana Jones movie. But all in all this was among the best "sweet & sentimental tales I've read here!
~~~hugs, Laika

Wonderful Story!

Thank you for a beautiful story.

It's OVER!?!??????!!!!!!

I have been searching for the next chapter to this story and just realized that the end of the last chapter said "THE END" !!!!

Well, it was quite nice, and I am not going to nag you for another Chapter. I do hope that you keep writing. I really loved this story.

Much Peace

Gwen

Splendid!

Simply splendid.

That's it, end of comment.

Perfect Nails - Great from Start to Finish

terrynaut's picture

Even the title is great.

I really enjoyed this story. I had to finish it late last night but I was too tired to leave a comment then.

You write very well, and I love your characters, though I wish you would've fleshed out Chrissie and Bryan a little more. I wanted to see more of Kelly's mother too.

I like Kelly's family, especially her sister. The four of them seemed quirky and real.

Thanks and please keep writing. I look forward to seeing more of your stories.

- Terry

fantastic!

That was an awesome story! Thank you for writing it. Please do write some more.

nothing to add....

...to all of what's been said...... It's a happy ending and that's what counts.
Ginger xx

PS: well done - to you co-producers.

I haven't read a story this

I haven't read a story this powerfully loving in quite some time. Thank you Ma'am may I have another?

"Perfect Nails"

To My Dear Readers…

I am completely shocked, and gratified, by the reception given this tale. I had no idea that the response would be so great. I am very thankful for the assistance of Drea, Alison and Belle. Their combined creative energy no doubt is a large part of the success of this story.

There will be no follow up piece to “Perfect Nails”. I wanted this tale to express the idea of unconditional love, personal sacrifice, and growing into true adulthood. Having done so, what happens after the reunion is completely up to the reader’s imagination.

I wish to thank you all for your over whelming and gracious comments. These, of course, are shared with my ‘co-conspirators’. I pray that my future tales, and collaborations, will bring as much joy and entertainment as “perfect Nails’ has done.

Truly

Kelly Blake

I have to comment again

Andrea Lena's picture

This is so special to me because I know the author and I know the story. It makes me feel alive to know that romance is real and wonderful and can bless us from time to time. What a story!

She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Con grande amore e di affetto, Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

This story is such a wonderful example

of realism and romance. I am glad Kelly decided to enter this in the contest; one of the best stories of the year, from where I sit. And really, all I did was provide one bit of fluff in a sea of gold!


Happy to know you. Belle

A little jewel...

I stumbled across this lovely little story and I can't believe how enchanting it is (even if the oral sex part is a bit much). Your use of dialogue is very good and your characters are quite likable. I hope you do choose to continue this story.

Little Timmie

I remember..

....reading this wonderful story for the first time... and like 'Drea, I have to comment again (as it popped up on the Home page when I opened up BCTS this morning) I do love 'sweet and sentimental' and I do live happy endings........ But the spice of the first oral was electrifying...... I guess 'one' would have had to be there to know how strong that was! Beau, Sister, just beaut! (The nails I mean!!) love Ginger