SRU Unreally Real
- 2 years ago
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The first thing I did when I got home was go over to Valerie’s. Her dad answered the door.
“Good evening, young man,” he said, formally. “I understand you are escorting my daughter to the Valentine’s dance.”
“It’s me, Mr. Carter,” I said.
“I know who you are.”
“I’ve gone with Val places lots of times.”
“Not on an official date,” he said.
“Is this an official date?”
He smiled. “It had better be. She’s pretty excited about it. Do I need to ask you what your intentions are towards my daughter?”
“Intentions?”
He leaned closer and winked.
“Are you going to see what you can get away with?”
I blinked.
“You mean try something with Valerie?” My voice rose. The very concept was ridiculous. She’d break my arm.
“Exactly,” he said, looking serious and folding his arms over his chest.
“Who is it, Dear?” asked Mrs. Carter, and her face appeared over his shoulder. “Oh, it’s you, Bobby.”
“I was trying to divine his intentions toward my only daughter,” said Mr. Carter, still very serious.
“Don’t harass the poor boy, Ed.” She looked at me. “Come in, Bobby. What’s up?”
“I need to find out what color Val’s dress is,” I said. “The one she’s going to wear to the dance,” I added, just so there wasn’t any confusion.
“I don’t think she knows, yet,” said Mrs. Carter. “She’s been trying on dresses all afternoon.”
“How many dresses does she have?” I asked, surprised. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Valerie Carter in a dress. Then I remembered a wedding we both went to when we were ten or eleven. She wore a dress then. And she’d worn a skirt one time to another dance.
“More than the average tomboy,” said Mrs. Carter, smiling. “You staying for supper with us?”
“No, I have to get home. The lady at the flower place said I was ignorant and that if Val’s dress is going to be white, I have to call her and tell her.”
Both adults laughed, which I thought was pretty rude.
“It won’t be white,” said Mrs. Carter. “Not this time.”
I wondered which time it would be white, but decided not to ask. I knew what I needed to know.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Certainly,” said Mrs. Carter. “When she decides, I’ll call your mother and let her know what color it is.”
“The lady said the corsage will be two white orkins, or something like that.”
More laughter. It was a rude night.
“Valerie will be pleased,” said Mrs. Carter, when she stopped laughing. “Orchids represent grace and beauty.”
“They do?”
Mr. Carter grinned and patted me on the shoulder.
“At least I know my daughter’s virtue is safe.”
“Ed!” said Mrs. Carter, clearly chastising him with that one word.
“Well if he doesn’t even know what the flowers he’s giving her mean, then he’s clearly not sophisticated enough to seduce her.”
“Ed Carter!” Now she sounded mad.
“I’ll just be going,” I said, turning to leave.
As the door was closing I heard Mrs. Carter say, “And what if she’s the one doing the seducing?”
I thought about that for about twenty feet or so. Valerie? Seducing me?
Not a chance in the world.
Not that I’d mind, of course. If she did, I might get to see those breasts I was so interested in.
But there was no way.
Especially if she’d already seduced any of those other guys she’d gone out with.Or them her.
My stomach hurt by the time I got home, but by the time my mother interrogated me about the corsage I’d forgotten all about seduction and what I had finally admitted was jealousy on my part.
After all, she was going to the dance with me, right?
Okay, okay. I was going to the dance with her.
I’d been to lots of dances. I was always a little nervous about it, while it happened. I was always nervous in groups of kids. You never knew when somebody would pull some prank, or try bullying you. Things could go terribly wrong in the blink of an eye, and at no fault of yours.
But this time my mother was putting me in a suit. And there was the whole corsage thing, and the lessons my mother suddenly decided were required on etiquette. Such as going up to the door to escort Valerie to the car, and opening her door for her and all that kind of thing. I was pretty sure she’d beat me to the car and open her own door. She had a tendency to dash everywhere, and it was entirely possible she’d actually be offended if I opened doors for her. I could just hear her saying something like, “What are you doing? I’m not an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of opening my own door. Get away from me!”
Then there was the assumption, on the part of my parents, that I was taking Valerie out to eat before the dance. When Mom started in on how I was supposed to seat her at the table, I held up my hand.
“Who said we’re going out to eat?” I asked.
“Judy did,” said my mother. “She called to ask me if I knew where you intended to take her.”
“Her mother wanted to know where we were going to go eat?” This was getting weird.
“Valerie is allergic to shellfish,” explained my mother.
“Shellfish,” I said, uncertainly.
“Yes, like clams, or oysters, like they have in fancy restaurants.”
“I can’t afford to take anybody to a fancy restaurant,” I said.
“Sure you can, just this once,” said my dad. “We’ll help out with that. We want you two to have a good time.”
“This is starting to sound like prom,” I said.
“We can discuss prom when it happens,” said my mother, sounding businesslike.
“Yes,” said my dad. “One soiree at a time.”
“This isn’t a soiree, Dear,” said my mother, obviously correcting my father. “It’s a semi-formal.”
“Whatever,” said Dad, and I could tell he was losing interest. I was too, for that matter.
“Since I didn’t know we were going out to eat, I’ll have to talk to Val and see where she wants to go,” I said. “Or if she wants to go.”
“I gathered it was her idea,” said my mother. She frowned. “And a gentleman of good breeding should take charge and establish where he will take his lady fair.”
“The last time I tried to take charge, Val slugged me,” I commented.
My dad laughed.
What was it with all the rude people tonight?
The day of the dance finally arrived. They were having it on a Saturday night, which meant my mother had all day to fret and fuss and issue last minute instructions on gentlemanliness and etiquette. In the years since all this happened, I’ve heard more than one bride-to-be bemoan the fact that her mother was intimately involved in planning the wedding, and that, as a result, the bride was thinking seriously about eloping.
I get that.
But finally I escaped from my house, car keys firmly gripped in my hand. I was being required to drive the whole seventy-five feet to the driveway next door, so I could escort my date to the car without making her traverse any grassy swards.
It turned out that was actually a pretty good thing, because Valerie had on high heels. And they’d have sunk right down into the moist earth of our yards.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Remember those lifetime memories I mentioned at the beginning of this whole thing? Well seeing her come into view that night, as I stood inside their front door, is another one of mine.
Her dress was dark blue. I believe they call it Royal Blue. It fell to just above her knees, which surprised me, because I expected it to go down to the floor. Another thing I hadn’t expected was for it to fit her so well. The only formal or semi-formal attire I’d ever seen was at weddings, and in people’s prom pictures, and a lot of the women in those look like a big colored puff ball. Valerie’s dress fit her like a glove, and I suddenly saw that she had the same hour glass shape that I saw in some of the pictures of naked women in my collection.
She wasn’t naked, of course, but my eyes went to her chest anyway. The neck of the dress was what I think they call a scoop. It was rounded and went down and back up, exposing maybe three or four inches of cleavage. It wasn’t as much as her halter tops exposed, but somehow it looked just as alluring. She had a cream colored clutch purse in her right hand, and she stepped carefully on high heeled shoes that matched the purse. I could see the tiny wobble in her ankles and the concentration on her face as she walked. There was a shawl draped over her shoulders, and hanging down by her arms. It was ivory too.
She stopped, and looked hesitantly at me.
“Wow,” I sighed.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, in a voice that sounded very unsure.
Her father snorted. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t look at anything except Valerie.
“Better than okay,” I said. I know, it wasn’t suave, but it was what came into my mind.
“You look good too,” she said, her eyes ranging over my suit. I felt stiff and uncomfortable in it, and figured I looked like it.
The weight of the box containing her corsage intruded on my mind and I lifted it.
“I got you a corsage.”
“Okay,” she said.
It was obvious that she was nervous. That was odd, because Val was never nervous. But it made me feel better, somehow, because I was nervous as hell.
“Well don’t just stand there,” said Mrs. Carter. “Put it on her.”
I opened the box and reached in for the corsage. I’d looked at it before. My mother had oohed and ahhed over it. Even I thought it was pretty. But I hadn’t thought about what it would take to attach it to her. I pulled it out and turned it over. There were two huge pins sticking through the stem part of the thing. They were obviously to pin it to her dress.
I looked at Val, at that scooped neckline. There was plenty of room for it on either side. I approached her, pulling the pins out of the stem.
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Dedicated to a lovely young lady that would have graduated in 1960 with a first initial of "J" First and most important, this is a totally true story. Because it is true, there is little sex and what there is, has not been embellished to the best of my knowledge. One almost always remembers their "Firsts." Their first kiss, first date, first love, first sex and first crush. This is a story of all the above and more. I have always been a shy person. All through my freshman and sophomore...
My name is Paige, I’m twenty-seven, and I have brown hair. I’m 5’5, and I just happen to be a lesbian with c-cup boobs. I actually never had an experience with a guy, because I just wasn’t interested. Anyway, I just had a four year relationship with a girlfriend suddenly end. I found her face buried in another lady’s pussy, and that was that. Anyway, I had been using this realtor, who happened to be a woman, named Dina. She was smoking hot, and she always managed to get my panties wet. I...
Realtor WendyWendy knew what she was doing, she had a craving to meet up with young guys, especially young black guys with their rampant sex drive and as she had found more often than not were blessed with big black cocks. Wendy had known for a long time that her husband wouldn't be able to satisfy her sexual desires and cravings.Wendy had managed to find a style which suited her perfectly as the woman who craved sexual encounters with young men. Most days she would wear a tight fitting vest...
Every so often my parents get this thing where they think they want to buy a new house and move to another town. We go out and look at many houses then they change their minds and nothing ever comes of it. So any way that got it in their heads to buy a new house and we are out looking at these houses. Our realtor lady is an average looking woman, kinky curly brown hair , thin, big wedding ring, really nothing to get to excited about. I am thinking she is in her late thirties. She has that used...
My name is Paige, I'm twenty-seven, and I have brown hair. I'm 5'5, and I just happen to be a lesbian with c-cup boobs. I actually never had an experience with a guy, because I just wasn't interested. Anyway, I just had a four year relationship with a girlfriend suddenly end. I found her face buried in another lady's pussy, and that was that. Anyway, I had been using this realtor, who happened to be a woman, named Dina. She was smoking hot, and she always managed to get my panties wet. I...
LesbianWhile looking for a new place to live a few years ago I got in touch with a realtor. She had several places in mind for us to see the first time I met with her. When I met her my first thoughts were she is an attractive older woman who is probably all about business and would have no interest in me. When we got to the first place I held the screen door open for her while she unlocked the place. She said that was unneccesary as she normally just holds it open with her big ass. So of course...
Dear Indian sex stories dot net Readers, I’m Gurmeet Chaudhary, 33 y/o management consultant in Gurgaon. Recently, my wife Deepali and I decided to buy a new house, finally having pooled in enough money to buy a luxury penthouse somewhere near our workplaces. Deepali is a fashion designer and she insists we both remain fit. Well, that was never a problem for me, since I used to be a fitness model back as a 19-year-old in Chandigarh. I work hard to maintain an eight-pack physique with a hectic...
Cari The Beautiful Realtor By Fergus Rea Christi's realtor's was bucking the trend. Whilst others had stagnated or gone under during the housing slump, Christi's kept on increasing its turnover and profit year on year. Competitors would analyse Christi's business model in minute detail, to try to understand how they managed this, but none of them came close to understanding what was really going on. Jack Christi, owner and manager, is highly competent with key skills such as...
I was already irritated, and having to drive all the way over to the house just to cancel an appointment just made it worse. My wife and I were supposed to be taking a last look at a house we wanted to buy and had an appointment to meet our realtor at the house. We weren't going to buy it after all so I tried calling Sandra to cancel but unfortunately I wasn't able to get hold of her so ended driving out here to let her know. She'd been great throughout the whole process and I felt bad that she...
Evan was a good looking guy….maybe mid-40’s, so a bit older than Barry and me….seemed genuine, with a good sense of humor, and a bit flirty. I don’t think Barry noticed, but I certainly did. Evan smiled my way a bit more than necessary, and struggled to keep his eyes off my chest as the three of us discussed house ideas and prospects. I get it….I’m an attractive brunette in my late twenties, with green eyes, a slim waist, and a pretty smile. But what had clearly caught Evan’s attention were...
This is a very true story. It is not intended for the young or the weak of heart. Enjoy the story. If you like this one please look for others to follow. Thanks! Jake Lets start with a bit of background. I am a senior account executive and my home base office is in Manhattan. I love my job and have always excelled in work. I guess I feel that if you spend too much time at work you don't have time to deal with relationships. This is also a great reason to not have to "come out". Just stay...
Gay