Alexandra
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Alexandra free porn video
One
"BRAT!"
"TOAD!"
Well, don't all 8-year-old boys think all six-year old girls are brats? And don't 6-year-old girls think 8-year-old boys are toads? Well, most of them, anyway. That's my experience.
And those were our respective ages when Alexandra's family moved in next door to mine. I was 8, she was 6. However, I don't remember ever calling her a brat. And I don't remember her calling me a toad. That was her twin sister Cheryl, who still is a brat and probably still considers me a toad.
Alex was different. There were four girls in that family, and they all competed for attention. Alex and Cheryl were the oldest, followed by Andrea, who was 4 that first summer, and Jennifer, who was 3. I always felt bad for their Dad, Mr. Callaghan, the poor guy was outnumbered.
Alexandra and Cheryl were fraternal twins. If you didn't get that just by looking at them, you'd figure it out after spending seven seconds with them. Cheryl was the boisterous one. The younger ones seemed to take Cheryl as a role model. Like I said-competing for attention. Alex didn't do that. She went and sat in the corner. So, it was probably no surprise that I-the most introspective male 8-year-old you ever met-noticed Alex first.
I don't remember all that much about the first couple of years I knew them, but I have a vivid memory of a few years later. I was 11, Alex was 9. The neighborhood crew I ran with was in their backyard, and we were playing tag, or something. Something loud, with Cheryl organizing and yelling and pontificating, as usual. And I remember Alex, sitting by herself in the corner, reading. The rest of the crew badgered her, telling her that she should play with us, but she refused. I admired her for it. Me? Oh, I was playing tag. An eleven-year-old boy, who'd rather read in the corner than get dirty? Well, yeah, actually, I was. But that day, I played.
The next time I saw her in the corner of the yard, reading, I grabbed my latest and went to join her. The crew happened upon us shortly thereafter, organizing a game of something. I turned them down. And you can bet I got a boatload of shit for it. I also got a sweet little smile from Alex. That offset the razzing, and then some.
I also remember, about a year later, getting my first kiss from her. It was in a game of Truth or Dare, where Alex had the dare, and Cheryl-of course-dared her to kiss me. She blushed, but she did it. It was warm, and sweet, and soft, and made me all tingly. But that was it.
TwoAlex and I were always friends, of a certain sort. We weren't go-out-and-do-something friends. We were, if you're on your porch I'll come chat with you friends. We still occasionally read together. That sort of thing.
I suppose it started to change a little the summer before my junior year in high school, which was the summer before Alexandra's freshman year. I went to a private high school, but she was going to attend the local public one. I turned 16 that summer, just after Alex turned 14. We both had summer jobs. And, it seemed that our schedules somehow coincided a lot, as we used to arrive home at the same time quite a bit.
It just seemed natural to settle on one or the other's front porch for a chat. The chats got longer, and longer. We'd sit there for hours, just talking. We'd talk about our jobs. I'd talk about high school. She'd talk about being worried about high school, mainly because of Cheryl, who was blonde and was well on her way to being a candidate for a Playboy centerfold, and who flirted with anything in pants. Alex was described by most people as "cute". She was introverted. Under the glaring light of Cheryl, she could feel like a gnat. I think I was the first person she discussed this with. It worried her.
I know I was the first person she ever showed her short stories to. And she was the first person that I shared my poems and songs with. And, I made her laugh. Alex never laughed. Smile, sure. Chuckle, giggle, yeah. But not laugh. I was doing an impression of a customer that had been in the store I worked in, and she started howling. Great big belly laughs. I found, over the summer, that I made her laugh quite a bit. Nobody else could. It was nice to be able to do that.
When school started, our nighttime chats became less frequent. That was by necessity. My workload was brutal, hers only slightly less so. But, we still made sure to hook up a couple times a week for a talk. Her worst fears about Hurricane Cheryl were coming true-she was often left in her wake. I tried to reassure her.
It helped that she got asked out on a couple of dates. She had a few short-lived boyfriends that year. I had a girl that I dated most of the fall and into the winter. And we'd talk about that, too. That was actually rather humorous. These relationships were typical high-school stuff-rocky as a dinghy in an ocean storm. I'd complain about Marie, and Alex would say, "I'd never do that to you." She'd complain about one of hers, and I'd say, "What a jerk. Doesn't he know how to treat a girl like you?" I suppose, if we had been older, we could have read the signs better. But we didn't.
ThreeAnyhow, by the time winter turned to spring, both of us were, again, unattached. And complaining to one another about it. However, I had a bigger problem. There, looming in the not-distant-enough distance like a great big anxiety attack, was one of the prime milestones (or millstones) of a High School Junior's existence: The Prom. And I had to go. Tiger and Bill would never let me forget it if I didn't.
Tiger and Bill? They were my best friends, almost from the very start of freshman year. The three of us were tighter than an overtuned guitar string. The Three Musketeers. The Three Stooges. Huey, Duey, and Louie. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. The Beatles, minus Ringo. That was us.
And they were going to the prom, and would take it as a personal affront if I were not there with them. After all, what are Moe and Larry without Curly? The Beatles could live without Ringo, but John? I tried to point out to them that if they included their dates they could be all four Beatles, but that didn't wash. It was The Event of The Year. The Third of Three was expected to be there.
Easy for them to say. They had dates. They had girlfriends, actually. I had nothing, and time was a-gettin' on. And no way was I going stag. Then Tiger made the suggestion: "Hey, you don't need to be in love to go to the prom. Why don't you ask one of the neighborhood girls you run with? You know, just as friends."
It was a capital idea. Now, I knew who Tiger had in mind-a couple of the girls from up the street that I ran with. He knew them. And, yes, one or two of them would be glad to go, as long as I did the whole "just as friends" preamble. One, in particular, I knew would go and that I would have a good time with.
But I didn't ask her, because Tiger's innocent suggestion had made me think of something completely different. I didn't ask any of the girls up the street. I asked Alexandra.
And there was no preamble. No qualifications. I just asked her, "Alex, would you go to my prom with me?" And she said, "Yes." And smiled.
It's funny-walking back to my house, I wasn't filled with relief that I had finally gotten a date for the prom and Bill and Tiger would get off my back. All I could think of was-how the hell did I not notice before this how pretty she is when she smiles?
FourThe prom was just fine, fine, fine. The six of us did the whole limo bit. I went over to get Alex before the limo showed up, and, when she walked out of the house, she took my breath away. The shoulder-length ringlets of dark brown curls she had had since she was six were piled up on her head. Her lightly applied makeup-which she never wore-accented the twinkle in her chocolate brown eyes. Her eyes. HER EYES! I had known her since she was SIX how on EARTH had I never noticed her eyes before? The lavender dress was fairly low-cut. Since when did Alex have cleavage? She was very petite-always had been-but she filled out her dress just fine, thank you very much. And then that smile again. Did the little girl next door, my pal, my chat buddy, change overnight? Or had I finally woken up?
All four parental units took copious amounts of pictures. I was glad, glad, glad. I wanted copies. I was going to carry a few around with me, and the next jerk that called Cheryl "the pretty twin" and Alex "the smart twin" was gonna get an eyeful of THIS. Not that I'd blame them for not noticing. It had only taken me nine years, right?
We piled in the limo. There with Tiger and Bill and their dates, Alex's innate shyness asserted itself. Luckily, not for long. I had warned the guys that she might go into a shell at first. Hey, they're good guys. They're my best friends. They and their dates helped me draw her out. I performed my special magic trick-I made her laugh-and she found a second person that could make her laugh-Tiger. Tiger can make a fencepost bark like a seal. Both of their dates were sweet, and much bonding commenced. By the time we arrived at the prom, Alex had discarded her shell for the duration and the Three Amigos (plus female accompaniment) were ready for a Time.
And a Time we did have. We ate. We danced. Tiger and I made Alex laugh until she cried. We badgered the DJ to play Born to Run so Bill and I could sing it Really Really Loud while making an effort to look like we were trying to dance. This made Alex laugh, too. Then we danced some more.
There was, of course, an after-prom party. We had the limo until the wee hours, so what did we care? I accepted a beer (a very rare event.) Alex accepted a wine cooler (an unheard of event-in fact, it was her first.) We didn't drink enough to get drunk, but we got happy. Somehow-I don't even remember how-we ended up on a couch with my arm around her and her head snuggling into my chest. It just seemed the natural thing to do when I put my hand under her chin, tilted it upward, and leaned down to kiss her. It seemed just as natural when I did it again, a few minutes later. And again. And it seemed just as natural, when I took her home, standing on her porch, to wrap my arms around her-as she wrapped hers around me-and really kiss her.
FiveSo, that's where It All Started, right? Well, not exactly. For a while, it seemed like we were both scared that what had happened that night was due to Prom Pixie Dust and couldn't be recreated in the real world, or something like that.
But something had definitely happened. Not only did our porchside chats increase in frequency-and length-now, it seemed like we were always doing something together. If I was going to the store, it seemed natural to go over and ask her if she wanted to go. If she was going to the ice cream stand, it was natural to ask me. If I wanted to go for a drive, I grabbed her. Movies? Shopping? We'd always see if the other wanted to go. And, it was natural that, when I scored two very coveted tickets to see Bruce Springsteen in concert, I asked her to go with me.
It was Springsteen that did it. First of all, there was absolutely no logical reason why I should have asked Alex to go with me. I had plenty of BossManiac friends that would have cut off an arm for that ticket-I don't think Bill has forgiven me yet-and I decide to ask Alex, who had only the slightest inkling who Bruce Springsteen even was. Her musical tastes ran to Irish folk music, and classical. I told myself that I was doing it to initiate the unaware. That, although it might be fun to attend with someone else who knew all the words to Darkness on the Edge of Town and wasn't shy about singing along, it would be more fun to suck an unwary nonbeliever into the Church of Bruce. While there was a kernel of truth in that, it wasn't the real reason. And it certainly wasn't the reason she eagerly agreed to go.
Somehow, it had happened that, if I was going somewhere, I wanted her along-and she wanted to go with me. And, if she were going somewhere, she wanted me along-and I wanted to go with her. The destination was almost unimportant. And this little fact of life had snuck up on us so gradually that neither of us had even realized it yet.
Anyhow, there we were, seeing "BROOOOOOOOOCE SPRINGSTEEEEN... AND THE E! STREET! BAAAAAAANNNND!!!!!!" on their tour in 1980, supporting The River album (still my favorite.) It was stupendous. It was mind-boggling. It was The Greatest Show On Earth. I knew all the words. I sang along. I shouted myself hoarse. Alex? She started the night with a "So what's this Bruce thing all about, anyway?" look on her face. By the time they did "Rosalita" she was standing on a chair. Yelling a lot. I knew the words, she didn't, so when they did "Thunder Road", I made sure I sang the "Show a little faith, there's magic in the night" line right at her. Because it was true. And I was rewarded with That Smile. Times ten.
She babbled the whole ride home about how great it was. Another convert for BossMania. I walked her to her porch, and, instead of running in the door, she grabbed me. And kissed me, long and deep. I was breathless-and I know she was, too.
Bruce Pixie Dust? I hoped not. This time I was going to test the theory. Well, first, I had to make sure the convert was taken care of, so I went out the next day, headed to the record store, and bought Alex a complete collection of Bruce. I presented them to her, she squealed delightedly, kissed me again-and slammed the door in my face. And sheepishly opened it a second later, inviting me in to listen with her. I laughed, let her go explore the Majesty of Bruce by herself, and told her I'd see her later.
It was that night, on my porch, one of our chat sessions. Except there wasn't much chatting. I pulled her close, and kissed her. And kept kissing her. We broke the kiss, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. She reached down and planted little kisses on my neck. I entwined my fingers in her curls. She rubbed my back. Then she looked in my eyes again, and I kissed her again.
I think that one lasted about three weeks.
When we finally broke the kiss, and caught our breath, Alex leaned over and whispered in my ear, "My God, I've never been kissed like that in my life."
I just laughed. Then, she grabbed my face in her hands, looked into my eyes, and said, "So, are you going to do it again, or do I have to beg?" I didn't waste any time.
We necked for a while. It was glorious. Then she had to go inside.
SixThe next afternoon, Alex came and knocked on the door. I opened it for her, and she walked right past me into the kitchen, grabbed my car keys off the table, handed them to me, and said, "Let's go for a ride."
We drove for a bit, and then she said, "Just exactly what happened last night?"
"Well, you were there. And it seemed to me that you were a willing participant."
She giggled. "Very willing. But, what I meant was, is something happening between us?"
"That's a question, isn't it? Well, from my end there is."
"FINALLY!" She yelled.
"Huh?"
"Well, I was thinking about it, and I realized something. I think I've only admitted it to myself recently, but... I've been in love with you since that Truth or Dare game."
I think I just about drove off the road. I managed to control myself, and pulled into the first parking lot I could find. I found an out-of-the-way spot, turned to her, and said, "You are kidding."
"Oh, it just dawned on me recently. But, think about it. You're the only guy I know who's like me. You're sweet, you're kind. You make me laugh. When I'm with you, I'm happy. You make me feel whole. And I couldn't really define it until now, but I've known it since I was ten. And, I think I've been waiting for you to do what you did last night for a very long time."
"Oh, man."
"Don't worry, Chris, you're timing's perfect. I probably would have run screaming out of sheer terror if you had done that any earlier, no matter how much I wanted you to."
I laughed. "Well, I'm slow on the uptake. It took me until the first time I made you laugh."
"That long ago? Why didn't you say something?"
"Why didn't YOU say something?"
We looked at each other. And cracked up laughing. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?" I said.
"Yup. See-we even get terrified together, without even knowing it."
I took a deep breath. "I love you, Alexandra."
"I love you, too, Christopher."
That was all that needed to be said. From that moment on, we were A Couple. It was understood.
SevenActually, considering we had been close to inseparable for some time by then, not much changed. Except, when we walked to the store, we held hands. When we grabbed a couch and a couple of books to read, we did so with her head in my lap. And we still talked-we just kissed a lot more in between sentences.
I suppose the proof was late that summer, when she had a penpal that she had corresponded with for years come to visit for the first time. She was from Ireland, and she came over for a couple weeks. Alex introduced me to her as "Chris, my boyfriend." That made it official.
Of course, there were a few other changes in our relationship. Alex was a Good Girl, I had known that from the start. Virginity was saved for the wedding night. Of course, there's a huge gulf between kissing and intercourse, but I was unsure how much of that gulf she was willing to traverse. We never talked about it.
I was unsure when it came to that. I suspected that I was her first real kiss, and I knew for a fact that she had never been touched. To be honest, both of those statements were true of me, also. It was the blind leading the blind.
To this day, neither of us knows if she sent out a subtle sign that I caught, or if I just guessed right, but, one day, in October, we were kissing. She was sitting indian-style on the couch, facing me, and I was twisted, half facing her, and our lips were locked. I had my hand resting lightly on her stomach, and I just slid it up. I half-expected her to remove it. She didn't. She sighed, and pressed her torso forward, as if to increase the pressure my hand was putting on her breast. So I did it for her-pressing against her breast through her shirt and bra. She practically stuck her tongue down my throat, and then she broke the kiss, concentrating on what I was doing to her breasts. She leaned back, so I could get my other hand up there. She sighed contentedly and gave me a smile, different than her usual one-but just as good.
After I was done, she looked up at me with those shining eyes, and said, "Oh, goody. Another way to make me feel good. You just keep coming up with those, sweetie."
From there, things progressed rapidly. The next night, out parking, I had her shirt completely off. A couple nights after that, she shocked me by reaching for my belt buckle, while I had contemplated trying to get in her pants. There had been a limit she had set, but, beyond that, she was willing to try anything...
As I quickly found out, when she engulfed my member in her mouth. I was shocked. Stunned. And harder than I had ever been in my life. I had jerked off, of course. What teenaged boy doesn't? But, that was nothing like this. She was inexperienced, unpracticed, and I had to hiss 'Watch the teeth!' once. But it didn't matter. It was fantastic. She was fantastic. After a couple of false starts, she was bobbing her head up and down like someone who had actually done this before. I felt my climax building, warned her, she ignored me, and I came-in a torrent-right into her mouth. I was more shocked and more stunned.
She climbed up next to me in the back of my station wagon, a little satisfied smile on her face. "Well, that's a bit of a different taste. I think I like it, though."
I stared at her. "Alex, you amaze me."
"What, you think us shy, demure virgin types don't get horny?" she laughed.
"Oh, I get it. You just did that to me so I'd return the favor," I teased her.
She blushed. "Oh, no, Chris... I didn't mean... no, I've always wanted to do that for you... no, I didn't expect..."
"Relax," I interrupted. "Do you think I have even the slightest problem with returning the favor? Lie back."
I pulled off her pants and panties, and got my first ever look of a girl's pussy. I worshiped it. I worshiped her. And then, I worshiped her, and it, with my tongue. I'm a pussy addict. My favorite participatory sport is cunnilingus. And it all started that night.
I found her clit and massaged it. I ran my tongue up and down her pussy. Her heavy breathing got ragged, and then turned into little squeals. Then she came, bouncing up and down so hard she almost broke my nose. Not that I would have minded-or noticed, for that matter.
"Nnnnnnnngggggggggggg..." was the first thing that came out of her mouth after she recovered the ability to breathe. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw me there, grinning at her.
"Y'know," she said. "I've had orgasms before. Playing with myself. But never, ever, ever like THAT."
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing a couple minutes ago."
That opened the floodgates. We became the First Couple of Oral Sex and Mutual Masturbation. The barrier was still down on the other thing, but who cared? And there were chips in that barrier. "I'm waiting until I'm married" gradually became "I'm waiting until I'm ready." So, ready could mean tomorrow, it could mean three years from now. As long as I got to worship that beautiful pussy of hers, I could wait until the earth spun off its axis, for all I cared. And she knew that. The sex was great because it was based on trust. You don't have sex with someone two to three times a week and not ever have actual intercourse unless you trust that person completely. She knew I respected that barrier, and would never attempt to tear it down.
It wasn't all sex, it's just that the sex was new. You don't start a relationship with someone you've been friends with for nine years and have it just based on sex-it's impossible. I knew Alex, inside and out, and she knew me. We studied together. We went for walks, or drives. We tried to go out to eat at least once a week. We still read together, her lying on the couch, head on my lap. It was, looking back now on it, idyllic. I spent a lot of my senior year in high school with Alex.
Of course, there was a looming problem.
College.
EightI had started looking at colleges the previous year. I thought I might want to get away. We lived in the northeast, and there was a school in the Midwest that I took a liking to. This school was my first choice before Junior year ever ended. By the time it came time to actually apply to colleges, my life had changed.
Alex, of course, wasn't going anywhere. She still had two years of high school left to go.
She encouraged me. My reasons for getting away were valid, and she thought it would be a good thing. I applied to some local schools, and got into them, but also got into the one in the Midwest. Alex told me, "If it's meant to be, then it's meant to be. I fully plan on being here waiting for you when you get back." So, I decided to go.
But that was six months away, and now was all about Alex. We had a wonderful first Christmas. I flooded her room with flowers on Valentine's Day. She baked soda bread and made Irish stew and took me to a step dancing festival for St Patrick's day. We studied, listening to Springsteen. We fooled around in the back of my station wagon. We'd leave silly notes in each other's mailbox. She told me her dreams, and I told her mine, and we found out that we were each in the other's.
Mhairi
- 15.08.2020
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