Memoirs Of A Man Slut: First Love free porn video

Be me, Thomas Murphy, a seventeen-year-old high school senior living in the California Bay Area.

It was the first day of my senior year of wrestling, and Coach Barton had me getting all the novices organized. According to Coach, as one of the top-ranked heavyweights in the state, I was in a “Leadership Position.” Apparently, being a leader meant I had to do administrative work. Note to self, being in charge can suck.

As I was collecting the requisite information from the newbies, I noticed that the background noise was tapering off. I looked up from the clipboard to see what the issue was.

Stephanie De la Cruz was the issue.

Last summer, Stephanie and her father moved into a little two-bedroom apartment in the same complex as my family. My sister, who is a lot nicer than I am, met Stephanie shortly after that, and the two of them became good friends. Stephanie had even joined in on a couple of slumber parties with my sister. I ignored Stephanie, she was my Sister’s friend, and therefore, not worthy my attention. Until she walked onto my wrestling mat and turned my world upside down.

I looked over at the gaggle of freshmen. They were practically drooling at the sight of the little Latina, and I will admit, I wasn’t immune to her charms either. She was a petite sixteen-year-old with black hair, light caramel skin, and big brown eyes. She had an aura of innocence and vulnerability that only puppy dogs and pretty young girls could pull off. And she triggered my protective instincts. Hard.

“Ahem,” I said with a pointed look in the novice’s direction. They all hastily returned to whatever it was they were doing.

“Finish this up, will you?” I said to one of the other seniors as I handed him the clipboard.

Stephanie had stopped at the edge of the mat, her uncertainty showing plainly on her face. I guess she hadn't been prepared to have thirty horny teenage boys staring at her as soon as she walked in.

I walked over to her and guided her to the opposite edge of the mat, standing between her and the rest of the group, trying to shield her from more unwanted attention.

I had to admit, Stephanie was a knockout. At around five foot even, she was a bit on the heavy side for a girl her size, but she carried it in all the right places. The size of her tits was on clear display under the loose tank top and sports bra she was wearing. Her ass was nice too; it looked like she was approaching Sir Mix-a-Lot levels of Baby got Back.

Being so much taller than her gave me a great view of her cleavage, which I unabashedly stared at. Tits are my Kryptonite, and she had some lovely Kryptonite wrapped up in that sports bra. Hey, I may have been in a leadership position, but I was still a horny seventeen-year-old.

With an effort of will, I looked away from her chest and met Stephanie’s eyes. “You know this is wrestling practice, right?”

She nodded.

“You want to join the team?”

Another nod.

“There aren’t any other girls on the team ya know.”

“I know,” she said.

I shrugged my shoulders in ambivalence. What did I care? I outweighed her by a least hundred pounds, so I was never going to have to wrestle her. “Okay, get in line. Tony will take your info.”

I headed toward Coach Barton, on the other side of the gym. He had rounded up the veteran wrestlers and started the warm-up routine.

“I think she likes you, Thomas,” Coach said as I approached.

I screwed my face up into a grimace, as I waved away his remark. I’ve never been successful with the opposite sex. Life was so much easier when I ignored girls and focused on wrestling. “She wants to join the team."

My comment earned the attention of several of the smaller guys on the team. Whether from arousal or fear, I don’t know. A few of them would have to wrestle with her.

Coach shrugs, “Okay. No rules saying only boys can wrestle. Either she sticks it out, or she doesn’t.”

Coach turned and addressed the veteran wrestlers in what I call his “Drill Sergeant Voice” which easily filled the entire gym.

“I expect you will treat her with the same respect you would treat any other teammate. Because that’s what she is, a fellow teammate. Am I understood?”

There was a chorus of “Yes Coach!” from the veterans.

He turned and faced the novices. “Am I understood?”

The novices didn’t know how to respond. A few tried to mimic the vet’s “Yes Coach!” a few nodded, and some were silent, looking around for an indication on what the correct answer was. Stephanie looked like she was starting to second guess this whole wrestling idea.

“Am. I. Understood?” Coach repeats, enunciating each word.

This time the “Yes Coach!” was more convincing.

“Okay then,” he said as he clapped his hands, and looked at Tony.

“We’re done here, Coach,” Tony said, waving the clipboard

“All right, everyone follow Sam to The Mountain and back. Anyone who doesn’t beat Thomas back owes me twenty-five push-ups after practice.” Coach’s proclamation was greeted by a round of bitching and moaning, but everyone headed for the door.

----

Over the ensuing weeks, Stephanie did stick it out. But, despite Coach Barton’s warning to the contrary, she did face a bit of hazing. Some of it is the typical bullshit that gets pulled on every novice, but one jackass always had to cross the line.

One particularly brave freshman skipped the opening run one day, about a week into the season. The dumb ass thought it would be a good idea to break into the girl's locker room.  As the team was returning from the run, he strutted out of the girl's locker room like he was the biggest cock in the hen house, wearing Stephanie’s bra, the cups filled to bursting with water balloons.

Coach was standing at the entrance to the gym, shouting at everyone to “Hurry up! Move! Move! Move!” and windmilling his arm towards the open gym doors, and we all put on one last burst of speed. As usual, I was towards the end of the pack, urging the slower guys to move faster.

Coach stopped yelling, and I looked up in time to see him draw himself up to his full height. His demeanor changed from a nice guy having a good day, to that of a pissed off Marine looking to kick some ass.

The entrance to the locker rooms was right across the open-air corridor from the gym, maybe ten feet away. Coach saw the hapless freshman almost as soon as the kid exited the locker room. The kid made it far enough for most of the team to see him before he saw Coach Barton. When he did, the kid almost fell flat on his ass in his rush to turn around and run back into the locker room.

Stephanie saw the kid too, and instead of making the turn into the gym, she continued straight, towards the parking lot. Seeing that kid wearing Stephanie’s bra reignited my protective streak. Ogre protect, UGH!

I had a decision to make. I could follow Coach into the locker room and pound the kid senseless, or I could check on Stephanie. I’ve been the target of that kind of juvenile shit before, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It took me two steps to make my decision. I went after Stephanie.

She was faster than me, by quite a bit, and I lost her in the parking lot. I tried calling out to her, “Stephanie, where are you?” When that doesn’t work, I tried a bit of humor, “Olly olly oxen free!” I yelled.

After a few attempts, I heard a sniffle and a half-hearted “Leave me alone.”

I homed in on the sniffling and found her squatting down with her arms wrapped around her knees, next to an old sedan. I could see the tears streaming down her face as she looked up at me. “I said, leave me alone.”

I loomed over her awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I had to do something to calm her down and make her feel better, but what?

Why do I care? I wondered.

“Umm, look, Stephanie… Coach will deal with that little fucker. By the time he’s done with that asswipe, he won't be on the team anymore. Hell, Coach will probably get him suspended, at the least.”

Stephanie looked up at me as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. “You really think so?” she asked with a quiver in her voice.

“Yeah, he told everyone not to fuck with you on the first day. You were there.” She nodded. “When it comes to the guys on the team, he's very protective. Coach will make an example of that kid, you wait and see.”

She wrapped her arms around me with a sob, and buried her face in my chest. I could feel her tears soaking through my shirt.

What the hell am I supposed to do now? I thought.

Awkwardly, I patted her shoulders in a weak attempt to comfort her.

“I'm so embarrassed,” she said. “How can I go back to practice? Everyone’s seen my bra, now they’re going to imagine what I look like wearing it.”

That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, yet. I was still steaming from the whole incident, but once Stephanie said it, I couldn’t help but picture her wearing only a bra and panties. I shook my head to knock the image out of it. I would ponder Stephanie’s boobs later and in more detail, but now wasn’t the time or the place.

I pushed her back slightly, and she looked up at me, expecting me to say something. I surprised myself by actually having something to say.

“Fuck them. Like Coach always says: ‘Wrestling is mind over matter; If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.’ So what if they imagine you in your bra. I guarantee you that Coach is in there right now putting the fear of one pissed off Marine into the rest of the team. This will be the one and only time something like this happens.”

I stepped back from her and held my hand out to the side, indicating the gym. She smiled and took it as an invitation to hold my hand as we walked back to practice. As we walked into the double doors of the gym, she fell back half a step but didn’t release my hand. It had only been a couple of minutes, and Coach had already started the warm-up.

“Why are you two lollygagging? You’ve got some catching up to do,” Coach said.

I released Stephanie’s hand and looked back at her questioningly. She gave me a nod, a small smile, and we both took up our positions on the mat.

The asswipe freshman was nowhere to be seen.

----

The following weekend, at my Sister’s invite, Stephanie spent the night.

I was in my room, playing a game on my Super Nintendo when my sister knocked on the door.

"Can we play, too?" she asked.

I thought about telling her to leave me alone, but I saw the hopeful look on Stephanie's face, and I decided that it might not be such a bad thing.

"Okay, sure."

Stephanie's face lit up and she plopped down on the floor next to me, and my sister took up residence on my other side.

Typically, when Stephanie spent the night, her pre-bedtime wardrobe consisted of a loose t-shirt and oversized shorts under a robe. That night she had swapped out the t-shirt for a tight gray sports bra.

I was helpless to resist the magnetic draw Stephanie’s tits had on me. The more I stared at her tits, the harder her nipples got. It reminded me of an episode of Friends with Jennifer Aniston’s nipples poking through her shirt.

After a few minutes, my sister tossed her controller to Stephanie and stood up. "Got to use the bathroom. Back in a minute."

Shortly after my sister departed, Stephanie let out a yawn and stretched her arms up towards the ceiling. This caused her robe to slip open even more, completely exposing her sports bra. Her chest was heaving with nervous energy, making it nigh impossible for me to tear my eyes away.

She said something to me, but the way her chest heaved every time she took a breath was distracting me to no end. Frustrated by my lack of response, she poked me in the shoulder.

“Hmm? Whaaa…?” I stammered as I shift my attention from those glorious cotton covered knockers up to her eyes.

“D, d, do you like me, Thomas?” she stuttered on the first word, her face flushing red from fear and embarrassment.

“I, umm, huh?” I stammered, again, trying to shift blood flow from the small head to the big head. But before I managed that herculean task, we heard my sister tromping down the hallway. Stephanie quickly wrapped herself up with her robe and turned away from me.

Life is so much easier without women, I thought to myself as we resumed gaming.

----

For the rest of the season, I tried to focus on wrestling, nose to the grindstone and all that. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t help that Stephanie was giving me the cold shoulder. She stopped hanging out with my sister and started flirting with the other guys on the wrestling team. She seemed to have gotten over the bra incident pretty well.

I channeled all my confusion, anger, and hormones into wrestling and I ended up making it to the State Championship finals. I took home the silver medal, which was good enough to secure a full-ride wrestling scholarship to the University of Iowa (the number one wrestling college in the US). I considered the offer, but I was a mediocre student at best, and the idea of spending another four years in school held no appeal for me. Besides, over the Christmas break, I had enlisted in the Navy. Travel and adventure awaited!

The Monday after State, I saw Stephanie in the hallway at school, during lunch break.

“Hey Steph, got a sec?” I called out to her.

She was one of the more popular girls in school and was always surrounded by a group of friends. It had been over two months since she asked me if I liked her, and as far as I knew, she still wasn’t dating anyone.

She waived the group on with an “I’ll catch up with you in a minute!” and looked up at me.

She was standing six or seven feet away, but we were in the middle of a hallway with a constant stream of kids flowing around us. She spied a small gap and launched herself into it. Two quick lunges, and a dodge around an unsuspecting student and she’s standing in front of me.

Yet again, I wondered what Stephanie saw in me? If we were D&D characters, she would be the effervescent eleven rogue, and I’d be the half-ogre barbarian who grunted occasionally. In fact, because of my size and strength, I had earned the moniker of Ogre Heavyweight.

On the mat, being the Ogre Heavyweight was great, it helped to psyche out my opponents. Off the mat, I learned that the nickname came with some baggage. Undeserved or not, I have developed a reputation for being quick to anger. As a result of said reputation, few ever wanted to come within arm’s reach of me. My reputation actually worked to my advantage here, Stephanie and I were at the center of a small island of calm in the river of students.

I’m used to seeing fear or apprehension (or at least apathy) when I look into someone’s eyes. I saw none of that when I met Stephanie’s gaze. Instead, she smiled up at me, a smile that lit up her face. She seemed genuinely happy to see me.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I, um, well...” I stammered. I do that a lot around her. “So, um… the senior prom is, ahh. Well, are-you-going-to-go-to-the-prom?” The last sentence came out rapid fire, and was barely decipherable.

“Are you asking me to the prom, Thomas?” The brightness of her smile went up a couple of degrees.

At this point, my words failed me. Going toe to toe with 250 lb guys on the wrestling mat? No sweat. Hitting 130 mph in my dad’s ratty old Thunderbird? Sound like fun. Asking this tiny Latina to be my date to the prom? Oh my fucking god, that was terrifying.

Unable to get any words out around the lump in my throat, I had to settle for an emphatic nod.

With a squeal of joy, Stephanie jumped on me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I instinctively caught her and held her to me as she kicked her feet out behind her. “Yes!” she said as she planted a kiss on my cheek. “I would love to go to the prom with you, Thomas.”

I reveled in her closeness for a few seconds, the feel of her body pressed against me. Then I lowered her back to the ground, all the while not wanting to break contact. Stephanie took that as her cue and released her hold on me.

That’s when it dawned on me that the hallway we were standing in was silent. At some point, our little drama had caught everyone's attention, and they were all staring at us. Stephanie loved to be the center of attention, and she soaked it up like a sponge. She stepped back, gave me a flirtatious wave and with a giggle, ran to catch up with her friends. I don’t like being the center of attention, so I put on my “Ogre glare” and headed towards the library, where I knew I could find some peace and quiet.

----

It was mid-March, and while it’s not quite warm enough to be wearing shorts, Stephanie is rocking a form-fitting pair for our first date. She’s also wearing a pair of three-inch heels that brought her petite cuteness up to a whopping five-feet-three-inches.

She must have figured out that I was in lust with her boobs because she completed the ensemble with a formless school sweater. She’s also wearing my letterman jacket (which hangs halfway down her thighs) because it really was too cold for shorts.

We were in the back seat of my mom's LTD, with Stephanie straddling my lap. Despite my clumsy attempts, Stephanie wouldn’t let me get past first base that night. She would redirect my hands to a safe location on her hips, never missing a beat as we played tonsil hockey.

During a short pause to catch our breath, I wondered, How the hell did a big Ogre like me land one of the prettiest girls in school?

Before the more developed parts of my brain could tell me what a colossal fuck up it would be, I pulled back from her and asked her.

“Why are you here, with me. Now, I mean?”

She gave me a surprised look. “Because I like you, silly.” She emphasized the point by lightly nibbling on my earlobe which sent a shiver of electricity down my spine.

It wasn’t an answer, though. If I pushed too hard for a real answer, Stephanie might realize what a lousy idea dating me was and break it off. But I had to risk it. I had never felt this way about a girl before, and I needed to know she had at least some feelings for me.

I gently pushed her back from me, and she gave me a concerned look as she realized that I was serious. “Okay, but why?” I asked. “I’m...” again, my words failed me. I looked into her beautiful brown eyes, trying to make her understand through sheer force of will.

She leaned back slightly and placed her hand on my cheek. I could smell a light dab of perfume on her wrist, and the heady aroma of coconut and honey body wash under the perfume.

As she opened her mouth to say something, I blurted out, “I big Ogre Heavyweight. You beautiful elf rogue. Why?”

It took Stephanie a second to make sense of what I had said (Shakespeare, I’m not). Then she barked out a short laugh and kissed me. It was hot, and urgent, and passionate. The best kiss of the night. Once the kiss ended, we were both left panting, and she collapsed against me, trying to catch her breath.

“Do you really think I’m a beautiful elf?” she whispered into my ear.

I grunted in the affirmative. More complex communication was beyond my abilities at the moment.

“And you are my big, strong, Ogre protector,” she sighed.

We stayed like that, for a long while. I was content, the kiss had been answer enough.

----

For our second date, Stephanie was wearing a loose blouse with a modest V-neck that showed a bare hint of cleavage, a pair of tight jeans, and her three-inch heels. It was a bit warmer that night, so she didn’t need my letterman jacket.

After dinner and a movie, we ended up in the back seat of my mom’s LTD, and Stephanie was a bit more liberal with allowing my hands to roam her body. I tried for her boobs on a couple of occasions, and each time she would redirect my hands to a safer location, though with less fervor with each attempt.

I noticed the pattern, and I decided to risk it one more time. With one hand at the small of Stephanie's back, I slid the other up her side and over the mound of her breast. I could feel the pounding of her heart through my hand, and the intensity of our make-out session went up a notch. I was so excited by my success that I gave her boob a victorious squeeze.

“Ow!” she yelped and pulled away from me, covering her injured breast with a protective hand. “Be gentle with them, ya’ big Ogre. They’re sensitive.”

Fearing that I had forever ruined my chance to get my hands on her boobs, I mumbled a dejected, “Sorry.” She looked at me to determine if I’ve been suitably chastised. Apparently, I had. She leaned towards me to resume the kissing, and she took my hand and moved it back to her tit.

I started gently massaging her breast with my hand while I kept running my thumb over her stiffening nipple. She leaned back and moaned in pleasure, and I used the opportunity to move my other hand onto her unfondled tit. With Stephanie’s back arched like that, her tits were clearly silhouetted against her blouse, the buttons straining to hold the front closed.

I took my hands off of her glorious boobs and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me. I inhaled the coconut and honey smell of her skin as I left a trail of kisses down the side of her neck, and into the cleft between her breasts.

The aroma of her skin, the sound of her moaning, the feel of her toned body as my hands roamed across her, it was all conspiring to drive me to new heights of lust. I seemed to be having a similar effect on Stephanie, as she offered no resistance at all when I slid my left hand down her back and grasped her ass, pulling her in tighter, bringing her breasts closer to my face.

While I was holding her quivering body against me with one arm, I slid my free hand up her flat stomach, between her breasts. I pawed at the top button of her blouse, and by some miracle, I was able to get it undone. Instinctively, I went for the next button, but Stephanie stopped me. “Don’t push your luck,” she said softly.

She let me paw at her for a bit; one hand squeezing her ass (ass cheeks are not as sensitive as boobs, good info to have) while the other was caressing a tit, and my mouth was occupied by the other tit. I was futilely trying to suck her nipple through her blouse and bra.

Eventually, I had to come up for air, and the spell was broken. I had made it to second base with the girl of my dreams, and I was content with that, for the night. We made out for a bit more then I buttoned her blouse up like a proper gentleman. Okay, not really. The attempted buttoning was a poorly veiled excuse to fondle her more.

Stephanie thought my bumbling attempts to button her shirt were hilarious and we had a “Battle of the Blouse.” She would slap my hands out of the way and try to button her blouse, and I would counter-attack, attempting to button the blouse myself. We spent more time fondling her boobs than actually trying to button her blouse, laughing the whole time.

I glanced at the dash clock and realized with a start, that if we didn’t hurry Stephanie would miss her curfew. Her father was adamant; if Stephanie was late by even a minute, she would not be allowed to go to the prom with me.

I’m sure I broke more than a few traffic laws in my rush to get her home in time.

----

Several of Stephanie’s friends had rented a limo for the big night. I asked her if she wanted to ride in the limo, but she said her father couldn’t afford it. I got the same answer from my parents when I asked for a little bit extra cash.

My dad did offer to let me take his Thunderbird, but I politely declined. My mom’s LTD had a much larger back seat, and Stephanie had hinted that we might go further than second base on prom night. A lot further.

Prom was being held in the ballroom of one of the local country clubs. The doors opened at 7:00 pm, and the party ran until 11:00 pm. There was going to be a live DJ, a dance floor, and a large deck – also suitable for dancing – that overlooked a private lake. I was looking forward to it, I had never been to a Country Club before. Everything I knew about them came from Travis Tritt’s song, Country Club. Admittedly, a poor source of information.

I knocked on the door to Stephanie’s apartment at 6:30 pm sharp, and her father opened the door. He was average height, had the weathered face, permanent squint, and the callused hands of a man used to hard labor in the sun. And he was scowling up at me. Picture Danny Trejo, only less friendly.

“Hello, Mr. De la Cruz,” I said. I found myself standing up straighter under his scrutiny. “I’m here to pick up Stephanie, for the prom.”

I’m not accustomed to people staring me down, especially when I’m a full six inches taller than them, but Mr. De la Cruz managed it. I was already a bit on edge, and the scowl from Stephanie’s father was doing nothing to make me feel welcome.

Nervously, I held out my hand in greeting. Mr. De la Cruz looked down at my hand and reluctantly shook it. His hand was large and powerful with stubby fingers, hardened by decades of landscaping work. He tried to crush my hand in his as he glared up at me, but the mere act of shaking the old man’s hand put me at ease. Handshakes I know how to do. I’ve practiced them extensively, and I am able to match the old man’s grip, pound for pound, never taking my eyes from his.

In the back of my mind, I recalled a speech Coach Barton gave us during my sophomore year: “If you shake hands with your opponent and they are limp wristed and won't meet your eyes, what does that say about ‘em?” he asked, rhetorically. “It says they’re unsure of themselves and you’ll be able to ride roughshod all over them. Meeting your opponent’s eyes and having a strong, confident handshake gets in their head. It tells them you’re confident in yourself and your abilities. That you can and will defend yourself.”

I swear, I learned more life lessons from four years of wrestling than I did during my twelve years of formal education.

After trading grips for a few seconds, Mr. De la Cruz released my hand and stepped back from the door. “Come in Thomas. Steph is still getting ready, she’ll be out soon.”

It was the first time I had been inside their apartment. On our previous dates, Stephanie had always met me at the door, and I had only been able to get a fleeting look in. The living room was separated from the modest kitchen by a waist-high bar, and there was a small desk area to the right of the front door, Stephanie’s study area I guessed. To the left, there was a comfortable looking couch and well used recliner stationed in front of the TV. To the side of the TV was a short hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

It struck me as a bit odd that the walls were sparsely decorated. There as a portrait of the Virgin Mary hanging over the TV and a crucifix hanging in the hallway, between the bedroom doors. That was it; no family pictures, or brick-a-brac one might accumulate as they lived their life.

“Have a seat,” Mr. De la Cruz said, sweeping a hand in the general direction of the couch and recliner. He pointed at the corsage I was holding, “I’ll take that and go check on Steph.”

I handed him the corsage, took a seat on the edge of the couch and waited.

I learned another valuable life lesson that day; get used to waiting on a woman. There’s nothing I can do to hurry things along, and 95% of the time it’s worth the wait.

I sat there, on the edge of the couch, for another fifteen minutes before I heard the door to Stephanie’s bedroom open. I jumped to my feet, and I was struck speechless as Stephanie nervously walked out of her bedroom. It was definitely worth the wait. I gaped wordlessly as my mind tried to un-befuddle itself.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Mr. De la Cruz asked with a smile. His earlier gruffness was gone, replaced by a look of pride.

“Wow, yeah. You look incredible.”

“Thanks, you clean up well too.”

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a standard issue penguin suit; white shirt, black bow tie (clip-on), black jacket, vest, pants, and shoes. I wanted to go with something a little less standard, but I was overruled by my mom.

Stephanie’s dress was black, floor-length, strapless, tight, and it had a slit along the left leg that went halfway up her thigh. It showed off her hourglass form exquisitely. Did I mention it was tight?

She had left her shoulder-length hair down, and as usual, went light on the makeup; eyeshadow, lip gloss, and maybe a bit of blush. She was also wearing a black lace choker necklace with an ivory heart pendant resting in the hollow of her neck and my corsage around one wrist.

She walked towards me and gestured at the kitchen bar. “Dad wants to take some pictures.”

I wanted to walk over to her, pick her up, and kiss her. But with her father there, watching me more than his daughter, I had to resign myself to a very platonic hug. I followed her to the kitchen where Mr. De la Cruz took a couple of pictures with his wind-up camera, beaming like a proud papa the whole time.

“Have fun,” he said, once he was done.

As we were walking out the front door, he called out, “Don’t forget! Midnight!”

Stephanie half turned and waived, “I won't, Papa.”

“Holy shit, girl,” I said as I opened the car door for her. “You look incredible.”

“Thank you” she giggled as she got in, giving me a great view of one toned leg and her cleavage.

I hurried around to the driver's side and got in. I leaned over for a kiss, but Stephanie got there first. She practically attacked me. We spent a few passionate seconds kissing, then we broke apart. Both of us were breathing heavily.

“Tonight is going to be a good night,” I said with a grin, as I turned the ignition. The mighty 351 Windsor wheezed to life as Stephanie pressed herself tightly against me.

Prom turned out to be an enjoyable experience. We found Stephanie’s friends and joined them. I was so enamored with the setting and my beautiful girlfriend that I forgot to be the big glowering Ogre that didn’t like anyone. 

On the dance floor, the height difference between Stephanie and me was almost comical. Even with her heels on, I was over a foot taller than her. That didn’t slow us down, though. We had our arms wrapped around each other, her head pressed against my chest. I knew she could feel my hard-on pressed against her stomach, but if anything, that caused her to cling to me tighter.

We spent a fair amount of the night dancing like that before I decided to do something about it. I wanted to see her face, to look into those lovely brown eyes as we danced. So, I squatted down, grabbed her ass with both hands and stood back up. Stephanie let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden move, then she smiled, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

“Such a brute,” she said with a smile.

“Ugh,” I agreed.

We danced a couple of dances like that, both of us wrapped up in each other's eyes, ignoring the outside world. Until one of Stephanie’s friends waived a hand between our faces to break the spell.

I lowered Stephanie back to the ground as I reflexively turned my Ogre glare on the offending person. The glare was not at full power, but it was enough to make her blanch and take a step back.

“Hey Steph, umm,” she stuttered as she looked at me. I caught myself and tried to go back to my happy place. From the look on Stephanie’s friend’s face, I wasn’t entirely successful. “So, um, a bunch of us are leaving. We’re going to take the limo to Sonic and get some burgers and shakes. You guys want to come with us?”

It was getting late, I realized. The dance floor was only half full, and most of the tables were empty. I glanced at my watch, it was almost 10:30, they would be shutting down the party soon.

“Thanks, Katie, but we’re going to stay here a bit longer.”

Katie seemed surprised by that answer, but she nodded her acceptance. “Okay, you know where we’ll be, if you guys change your minds.”

The mention of hamburgers reminded me that I was hungry. I tugged Stephanie towards the refreshment table as Katie returned to her group.

“We can go with them,” I said, as we were walking. “I don’t mind.”

Stephanie looked up at me with a naughty twinkle in her eye, “I figured you’d like to spend some time with me, alone.”

“Hell yes!” I said, as I returned the finger sandwich I was about to eat to its previous location. “Let's go, what are we waiting for?” Stephanie giggled as we made a beeline towards the door.

Fifteen minutes later we were parked and fogging up the car windows. Stephanie was straddling me again with her dress pulled up around her hips. My jacket and vest had been tossed into the front seat, and the top three buttons of my shirt were undone.

I had never seen Stephanie so turned on before. Our previous make-out sessions had been heated, but she was positively on fire that night. Her hands were all over me, she tugged my shirt out of my pants, ran her hands through my hair, traced the muscles of my arms and chest. She even pinched my nipples! A guy could get used to this.

Typically, I would have had my hands all over her boobs, but they were still encased in the conservative (if strapless) bustier of her dress. Instead, my hands were exploring the smooth, toned expanses of her naked legs. My hands slid up to her ass cheeks, and I discovered a pleasant surprise. She was wearing a thong. No granny panties tonight.

I squeezed her ass, and Stephanie responded by grinding her thong covered pussy against my swollen cock. Without even thinking, I pulled one hand back and gave her naked bottom a quick slap, resulting in a satisfying SMACK.

Stephanie gave me a shocked look, then smiled. She leaned forward and purred into my ear, “Mmmm, I love the way your big, strong hands feel on me.”

I smiled and tried to slide my hands up her hips, pushing her dress further up, but the material was too stiff. Past a certain point, it wouldn’t move. I growled in frustration, the dress needed to come off, and Stephanie agreed.

She pushed my hands back down to her ass and patted them. Once I had a firm grip on her ass, she reached behind herself and unzipped the dress. I sat there with an ever-widening smile as she tried to worm her way out it.

The 1976 Ford LTD is a huge car, one of the biggest Ford has ever produced. Even so, it's not conducive to getting out of a form-fitting evening gown. After a minute of creative cussing and a little help from me, Stephanie was finally free of her dress. It joined my tuxedo jacket and vest in the front seat.

Struggling with her dress was unsexy enough that the heat of the moment had cooled, slightly, and Stephanie became a bit self-conscious about being so exposed. She started to cover her breasts with her arms, then forced them down to her sides, allowing me all the time I wanted to drink in the sight of her.

“Wow, you’re sexier than I had imagined,” I breathed as I slid my hands from the top of her thong, up her stomach and onto her bra. She leaned back and allowed my hands to roam her body, unhindered.

Her bra was a lace affair that clung to her breasts like a second skin. Remembering her admonishment from our second date, I gently cupped her breasts in my hands. She moaned and slid her hands over mine, repositioning them, so her nipples were under my fingers.

“Pinch my nipples, gently,” she whispered.

I found her perky little nipples under her bra and started rolling them back and forth between my fingers. As her moans got louder and more urgent, she slid one hand down her body, between her legs, and I watched as she started rubbing herself through her thong.

The throbbing in my pants had long since reached uncomfortable levels and watching my girlfriend masturbate on top of me… That was enough to cause the throbbing to become virtually unbearable.

It took minimal effort on Stephanie’s part before her entire body was quivering. I felt her nipples getting harder, so I started to pinch them harder. She responded to that by grinding against me with more urgency.

For as much time as I had spent with my hands on her tits, I had never actually seen them. It was time to fix that. I used both hands to scoop first one breast, then the other out of her bra, and I took a moment to revel in the site of Stephanie’s naked tits.

They were amongst the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Her sixteen-year-old C-cup tits really didn’t need a bra. They were firm and perky, and her dark brown nipples had a slight upward tilt to them. All-in-all, perfect for sucking on.

After taking in Stephanie’s boobs, my hands found their way back to pinching her nipples. That seemed to be the stimulus she was missing because almost immediately she exploded into a body shaking orgasm. She threw her head back and started moaning and bucking her hips, rubbing her sopping wet pussy against the throbbing hardness of my cock.

After she came down from the aftershocks of the orgasm, she met my eyes with a wicked smile. “Mmm, that was amazing. I’ve never had an orgasm like that before.” The smell of her sex filled the car, and it was driving me insane with lust. I moved my hands from her tits, and start caressing her body. Her silky-smooth skin felt fantastic under my hands. Stephanie followed my hands down her body and saw her naked boobs.

“When did you manage that?” she said with a mock gasp of shock. “You’re a naughty Ogre, aren’t you?”

I smiled at her, unapologetically. “Yup,” I said as I caught the hand she had been masturbating with and brought it up to my face. It was glistening with her juices. She caught on to what I had in mind and giggled as I licked her hand clean.

She was having some difficulty with undoing her bra with one hand, but about the same time I finished licking her hand clean, her bra fell to the floor. “How does my pussy taste?” she asked.

“Amazing. I can’t wait to get it straight from the source.”

“Not tonight, baby, maybe next time.”

The disappointment must have been plain on my face because she closed the distance between us and kissed me. “You have no idea how badly I want you. You’ve been rubbing that huge cock against me all night, and I can’t wait to have you inside of me. I just don’t want my first time to be in the back of a piece of crap car. I want it to be special, okay?”

Somewhat sullenly, I nodded my agreement. After all that, I wasn’t going to get my release? My cock throbbed painfully in complaint. As I was about to give voice to it, Stephanie looked down at her mostly naked body.

“How is this fair?” she said as she playfully punched me on the shoulder. “I’m pretty much naked, and you’ve still got all your clothes on.”

I perked up, literally and figuratively, there was hope after all.

“It sounds like a personal problem,” I said with a grin, trying to play it cool. Who was I fooling? My hands were already moving towards my belt.

It turned out that stripping down to my tighty-whiteys in the back seat of my mom’s car was even more difficult than getting Stephanie’s dress off. After another minute of struggling, my pants were down around my ankles. I was satisfied with that, but Stephanie wanted them all the way off.

Somehow, she managed to turn around so she could take my shoes and socks off. I was laying across the entire backseat of the car and Stephanie’s beautiful round ass was only inches away from my face. I could see the shape of her swollen labia, outlined by her soaked panties. The smell of her sex was even more intoxicating than the smell of her skin.

She was so engrossed in getting me naked, that when I ran my thumb along her slit, she jumped and hit her head on the roof. I laughed, and she gave me a reproachful look.

“Stop that!” she said as she took a half-hearted swipe at my hand.

I obliged her and contented myself with caressing her thighs. In short order, my shoes, socks, and pants joined the rest of our clothes in the front seat.

Again, she managed to turn around and face me, this time curled up between my legs on the floorboard. My cock was straining against my underwear, and Stephanie ran her hand across the length of it. Now it was my turn to feel self-conscious about being so exposed.

Stephanie eagerly tugged my underwear down, and my dick immediately sprang upright. After a few more seconds, my underwear was tossed into the front of the car. A tiny voice in the back of my mind pointed out that I was now completely naked, and she was still wearing panties and her choker. I ignored the voice.

Stephanie reached out a tentative hand and wrapped it around my shaft, my cock was as hard as it had ever been. Watching Stephanie’s grin as she slowly stroked it made it even harder, if that was possible. With a light grip, she stroked my cock, from the base all the way to the tip of the head.

“Does that feel good, baby?” she asked.

The only answer I could give was an inarticulate groan. I reached down with one hand, trying to get at her tits, but she was too far away. She realized what I wanted and sat up, closer to me. Not only did I get a hand full of boob, but my dick was now squarely between her tits. I couldn’t help but grin as I watched her jerk me off. Her jerking motions caused her tits to bounce in new and entertaining ways. No doubt about it, tits are my Kryptonite.

“Holy fuck, babe. That’s amazing,” I moaned. “Push your tits around my cock.”

“Like this?” she asked as she made a hand bra with my dick buried between her soft peaks. She slowly rose up and down on me, jerking me off. I couldn’t believe how good it felt having her tits wrapped around my shaft, just the head poking out. I was so ready to let loose that it was almost painful, but something was holding me back. Stephanie could feel my mounting frustration at not being able to cum.

“Maybe this will help,” she said as she bent down and tentatively licked the head of my cock. She swirled her tongue around the head for a second, and I could feel my cock throbbing in response. She looked up at me as she took the head into her mouth. Her lips followed the contours of the tip and shaft, and her tongue slid along the bottom of my cock. She bobbed her head up and down like that and used a free hand to stroke my rod.

I started thrusting my cock into her mouth, in time with the bobbing of her head, but soon I was gyrating wildly, trying to cum.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m… arghhh!”

I could see Stephanie’s eyes get big, but her lips sealed against my cock tighter, and she jerked me faster. She seemed determined to swallow my load, but she wasn’t prepared.

All the foreplay and teasing had caused me to work up a massive load of cum. My first jet shot straight down Stephanie's throat, causing her to gag, and she pulled back in surprise, coughing. She didn’t stop jerking me off though, and she aimed the last couple shots at her chest.

“Holy shit, that was a lot. Do you normally cum that much?” she asked after she recovered from gagging.

I was kind of embarrassed, I wasn’t sure how she would react to being drenched like that. “No, not usually,” I admit.

I watched as she took stock. The hand she had been using to jerk me off was covered in cum, as were her delectable boobies. She released my now soft cock and smeared the cum around on her tits and stomach. She had cum dripping off of her chin, and there was a long streamer of cum dangling from a cheek. She used her finger to wipe the cum into her mouth and sucked it clean.

“Mmm, yummy,” she said as she climbed on top of me, lithe as any cat. She pressed her cum covered chest against me and I could feel her hard nipples drawing twin lines of electricity up my abs as she worked her way up my body. She kissed me, and I tasted my cum on her lips and tongue. I thought it would be a turn-off, but I found myself getting hard again.

Stephanie felt me getting hard, and she started to grind against me. With a groan, I grabbed her hips and held her steady. She looked at me, frustration evident in her eyes.

“Unless you are ready to go all the way, we need to stop,” I said.

The burning lust in her eye’s dimed, and she sat up. “You’re right,” she sighed. Then she looked at her hands, giggled and said, “I’m covered in Ogre cum!”

Then she made a show of wiping her palms on my chest.

----

It was a week before graduation, and we were at one of the few remaining drive-in theaters in town, watching a movie. I say “watching,” but we weren’t. Instead, we were pawing at each other like the horny teenagers we were.

Stephanie’s shirt was hiked up on one side, exposing one of her bra-less tits. It turned out that Stephanie enjoyed having her nipples sucked on and pinched. And I was more than happy to oblige her.

“Oh, Thomas,” she moaned as she pulled my head down to her naked nipple. I wrapped my lips around it, bit down and pulled back, lightly dragging my teeth across her pert nipple as it slid out of my mouth with a wet pop. She enjoyed that, and she pulled my head back down to her breast with even more force, jamming her boob into my mouth. I opened my mouth and sucked as much of her C-cup tit in as I could, and pulled back. Pop.

While I was playing with her tits, Stephanie had her hand buried between us. She was jerking me off in time with the grinding of our hips. I could feel the tension building in her body. Her thighs started squeezing me, her abs clenching and unclenching and her breaths came in short gasps. Rubbing her pussy against my dick while she was jerking me off was having the desired effect. She was about to cum.

“Stroke me faster,” I said around a mouth full of boob. She did, and I thrust into her hand in time with the strokes. It wasn’t long before she buried her face in my shoulder and bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, as she reached her climax. I shot my load into the condom I was wearing (it made cleanup easier), and we both came down from our orgasm’s together.

Her hair was glued to her face from sweat, and I gently pushed it out of the way so I could see her eyes. I felt a swelling of emotion in my chest as our eyes met. I’m in love with this girl, I thought to myself.

I looked back at our relationship and realized I’ve been in love with her for a while. But this was the first time I’ve been able to admit it. I opened my mouth to say those three little words, but I couldn’t make them come out. Admitting it to myself is one thing. Actually giving voice to it, that’s a whole new level of vulnerability I wasn’t ready to open myself up to.

I love you, Stephanie. My little elf girl. The prospect was terrifying.

Stephanie saw that I was getting ready to say something and she blurts out, “Graduation!”

I did a double take. “Huh?”

“I saw the look on your face, you were going to ask when we were going to go all the way, right?”

I breathed a mental sigh of relief. Sex was a much safer topic than being in love with her. “Uhh, yeah. You can read me pretty well it seems.”

“Like a book,” she admits. “Graduation. Let's do it then.”

I pulled her down to me and kissed her. “That sounds perfect.”

----

Every year, my school held a Grad Night Party that went from 7 pm until 8 am the following morning. The idea was, that if the graduating seniors spent the night partying at school, they couldn’t be out getting drunk and killing themselves in car accidents. It was also the perfect cover for Stephanie and me to sneak off and bump uglies.

The graduation ceremony went off without a hitch. Mom cried, Dad said how proud of me he was, and my sister was off with her friends. Stephanie wasn’t there, which was disappointing. It was her great-grandmother’s 90th birthday that weekend, and her family was having a mini-reunion in San Francisco.  She had promised that she would call me when she got back home that evening.

As 7 pm got closer, a nervous pit opened up in my stomach. Stephanie still hadn’t called, and she should have been home over an hour ago. Thousands of possibilities raced through my mind, each more outlandish than the next.

My mom, sensing my growing anxiety (I’m sure it was plainly written across my face), offered some platitudes in an attempt to get me to relax a little bit. “I’m sure they’re okay,” she said. “Maybe they had car trouble? Or maybe they got stuck in traffic?”

At the mention of traffic, my dad chimes in. He commutes to San Francisco every day via BART, and he’s always commenting on the levels of gridlock he sees on the interstates. “Depending on when they left, it could be traffic,” he muses. “The 680 is always a mess, even on a Saturday evening.”

I know they meant well, but they weren’t helping. I stood up and headed towards the front door. “I’m gonna’ walk over to her apartment and see if they’re home yet,” I said.

“Good luck” my parents called out as I closed the door.

As I approached the apartment, I saw that Mr. De la Cruz’s old 1980 Chevy work truck was not in its usual parking spot. That did not bode well. I walked up to the De la Cruz apartment and knocked on the door, politely. The binds were drawn, and I couldn’t see any lights inside the apartment. My polite knocking rapidly grew not so polite, and eventually, I was pounding on the door hard enough to rattle it in its frame. That set off Old Lady Sanchez’s chihuahua, and it started barking like crazy.

My breath started coming in short ragged gulps, and my heart was racing. I recognized the symptoms; I hadn’t had a panic attack since eighth grade. I forced myself to stop pounding on the door and to take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, as I slowly counted backward from ten. After about thirty seconds I felt my heart rate start to drop and the dizziness receded.

“What’s all the racket about?” an old lady’s voice shrilled at me.

I looked to my left and saw Mrs. Sanchez standing in her housecoat, cradling her chihuahua. “I’m sorry Mrs. Sanchez. I’m looking for Stephanie. Have you seen her?”

“Left this morning,” she said. “Something about going into the City for a family reunion. They both had overnight bags with them. Looked like they were going to stay in the City.” She looked at me “You okay, son? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. Or, at least I tried to.

I turned away from Mrs. Sanchez and started to run.

I love the simplicity of running; place one foot in front of the other, pump your arms, time your breathing with your pace and go. I’m not a fast runner, but Coach was always saying I had the endurance of a draft horse. Running was a sort of moving meditation for me, the repetitive motion helping to clear my head.

Out of the thousands of scenarios that had run through my head, the thought that Stephanie might stand me up had never occurred to me. She had never even hinted that something might be wrong between us.

Could she really read me like a book? Did she know I was on the verge of telling her I loved her?

Tears clouded my vision, and I angrily wiped them away, and started running faster, pushing myself until I was heaving vast gulps of air and my tempo was lost. I slowed to a walk and crossed my arms over my head, opening up my diaphragm so I could inhale the fresh evening air. Looking around, I realized I hadn’t been running aimlessly. I knew where I was going.

The Mountain.

A grandiose name for what is a man-made hill on the northern edge of a park near my apartment complex. The Mountain is about a hundred-feet-tall and has a commanding view of the surrounding area. I’m intimately familiar with that view because it’s the halfway point of our daily warm-up runs during wrestling season.

The top of The Mountain is actually a small plateau with a flagpole and a veteran’s memorial. A plaque honored all the local veterans who had fallen in America’s various wars. The most recent addition was a Marine PFC that had been killed during Desert Storm.

It seemed fitting that I would end up there. In a little less than two weeks, I would be leaving for the Navy, for a six-year enlistment. A lot could happen in six years. Would my name end up on this plaque, a casualty of America’s next war?

I spent a long time on that Mountain thinking about what lay ahead for me.

Would Stephanie be a part of it, I wondered?

----

We were sitting at the kitchen table in Stephanie’s apartment, late morning sunlight streaming in through the front windows. Stephanie and her father had gotten home early that morning and her father had left immediately, saying he had a full day’s worth of work ahead of him.

I knew from the moment she opened the door, that I wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation. The look on Stephanie’s face was heartbreaking. She had bags under her big brown eyes, and it was apparent she had been crying. I think I caught a sob or two as she tried to put on a brave face.

She stepped back from the door and motioned me in, closing the door behind me. She led me into the kitchen and motioned for me to take a seat at the table. I sat down, as she walked around the table, taking the seat opposite me, putting it between us.

“What happened?” I asked. My voice a whisper.

“I was scared,” she said as she started crying again.

“Of what? Me?” It figures, everyone else was afraid of me. Why shouldn’t the girl I love be afraid of me too? “I would never hurt you, Stephanie.” I almost followed that with an I love you, but something told me that admission would not make things any easier.

“What? No! I’ve never been afraid of you, ya big Ogre,” she smiled a bit with that.

“Then what?”

“You’re leaving me. That’s what. You’re going off to join the Navy and have all these grand adventures, and I'll be stuck here for another year. There’s no telling where you’ll be when I graduate. What are the chances you’ll even get stationed in California?”

“I…”

“Everyone I love leaves me,” she sobbed. “My mom, you, even my dad is gone most of the time, working.”

And there it was. She loved me.

I know my heart was still there, I could feel it pounding away in my chest, but I felt like it was being torn out and crushed in a vice.

I reached across the table, to take her hands in mine. To try and comfort her. Right then, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to absorb the pain she was feeling. She didn’t want my comfort though. She pulled her hands close to her chest and leaned back in her chair, leaned away from me.

“You never talk about your mom,” I said quietly.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said between sniffles. “Your family is perfect! Your mom works down the street, and she’s home every night to make dinner. Your dad came to all the dual meets during wrestling season. Hell, even your sister is great.

"My mom abandoned us when I was six! And my dad didn’t make it to a single dual meet. Not one! Always too busy he would say.” She collapsed back into the chair, her chin on her chest, sobbing.

How do you respond to something like that? Seeing her in so much pain was tearing me up inside, but this was a pain I couldn’t protect her from. I felt worthless.

“Please, go,” she said between sobs. “I can’t be with you. I’m sorry, it’s too hard.”

I sat in the kitchen chair, dumbfounded. How had it come crashing down so quickly? Forty-eight-hours ago we were smiling and joking. Now it was all in ruins.

“Please,” she whimpered, not looking up.

The pain in her voice was too much. I wanted to gather her up in my arms and comfort her. To tell her everything would be okay and that I loved her. But that would hurt her even more. The best thing, the only thing, I could do to protect her was to leave.

Without a word, I got up and left her apartment.

Twelve days later I left for Navy boot camp.

I never saw, or talked, to Stephanie De la Cruz again.