The story of Carol and Charlie
Introduction:
A short story, with no sequel, of young love. Enjoy
I know I should’ve quit smoking years ago. I tried, but to no avail. After my wife of 40 years passed away four years ago, I guess I just let myself go and really didn’t give a shit any longer. Well, I guess, now I have to pay for it. As my Pastor says, “Charlie, you’ll quit some day, even if it’s after you die, you’ll quit.”
Needless to say, I’ve done a lot of soul searching this past month. Hell, I can’t do much else. I sit here at this computer, typing slowly with one good hand. It is tough having to capitalize and stuff like this with one hand, but I want to tell you a story about my youth and I want it to be accurate. You see, as I was reminiscing and soul searching about all of my experiences as I was growing up, my mine settled on the first time I had a sexual experience and I wanted to share it with you.
I was 14 at the time, full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the world. It was the year I started smoking, so you know how dumb I was. I had just immerged from puberty and though I was hot shit. I would stroke it with ol’ Rosy Palm at the slightest twitch and at 14, that was quite often. But my first real live “Put it in a girl” experience was that summer. She was a beauty named Carol.
It was at the 4th of July Town Picnic held down at the fairgrounds near the river. I ran in to Carol in the dinner line. I had secretly admired her from the first time I saw her walking towards me class in high school. She was standing there, waiting with her plate, talking to her friends, about three or four people ahead of me and I couldn’t resist staring at her. She was a beauty, I’ve said that, but a sweet, slim, tanned blonde that had a sense about her that would drive a sane man crazy. Her long locks splayed over her shoulders and down her back, framed the loveliest facial features imaginable. Her baby blue eyes sparkled like lanterns through the darkest night, radiating warmth and direction for all to see. As she smiled the broadest of smile to her friends, she slowly glanced in my direction and then quickly diverted her gaze downward. Checking to make sure I was still looking at her, she glanced in my direction again and she did the unbelievable, she smiled at me.
My heart stopped. I froze. I must have turned a violet color of red as I quickly looked down. When I looked back up, she was staring right at me and so were her friends. They all laughed a little and she turned her attention back to their conversation, but not before she stole one last glance in my direction.
She looked wonderfully delicious, like an ice cream sundae or something. She was wearing a white dress, with red and blue poke-a-dots all over it. It flared out a bit in the skirt, but came up to fit her nicely at the waist and bosom. She had on a blue belt, a red scarf and white shoes with white ankle socks, slightly turned down. The only problem with this whole scene was that she was a year older than I was. She was 15.
I had just finished my freshman year in high school. I was no longer a “freshman” but I was a long way from being a “junior” like Carol. I had shot up in height last year and was getting close to my present height of 6 feet, but I was still rather gangly at 145 pounds. I guess I wasn’t bad looking but I was no Clark Gamble either. I looked behind me in line to make sure Carol hadn’t been smiling at someone else. Nope, just the Millers, Betsy and Elmer and their five-year-old daughter were all I saw. She must have been smiling at me.
I watched Carol and her friends take their plates over to a table under the big tree. They sat down at the end of the table and proceeded to eat. Dare I go over and ask to sit with them? I choose to sit by myself on the hill overlooking the river bank. I felt safer there. As I ate my hamburger and potato salad, I was trying to generate the nerve to follow up with Carol. Suddenly from behind, came a soft, sweet voice asking, “Charlie, are you sittin’ here all by yourself?”
It startled me and as I turned around to see who it was, I knocked over my soda into my lap and it spilled down the front of my jeans. I patted it dry with my napkin as I looked up into the afternoon sun and all I saw was a silhouette. I recognized the form but I was so embarrassed at spilling my drink, I dropped my hamburger on the ground.
“O Charlie, I’m sorry for sneakin’ up on you like this,” said the soft, sweet voice again.
This time, I recognized the dress at least, by the red and blue poke-a-dots, so I responded as best I could by asking, “Is that you, Carol?”
“O yes it is, I’m sorry. I thought you knew who I was, I mean, I know you know who I am, but I…” she stammered. She walked over in front of me, out of the direct sun light and I could see that she was red as a beet in the face.
She stood there looking down at her feet with her hands in her lap, but all I saw was her beautiful legs only feet from my gaze. “I was going to ask if I could join you but it looks like I’ve ruined your meal for you,” she said, referring to my drink and hamburger.
“Well, to be honest, it wasn’t that good anyway,” I said, making an excuse to her for not wanting to eat any more.
“Mind either,” she confided, shrugging her shoulders. “Do ya want to go for a walk?” she asked.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. “Hell, yes,” I thought. “Okay,” I said.
I sprang to my feet and took my paper plate and drink can over to the trash container and asked “Where to?”
“I don’t know, down along the river I guess,” she suggested.
I fell in along side of her and we started upstream walking along the river bank. We walked in silence for the longest time and then I finally thought of something to ask her. “So, you’re going to be a junior this year, huh?” That was the dumbest thing to ask, Charlie!
“Yeah, I made it through to my junior year,” she said the obvious. “You’re going to be a sophomore, right?”
“Yeah, sophomore.”
We walked along in silence once again. I was trying to think of something witty to say, but at this rate, I’d settle for anything to say. I would start to open a topic with her but would think that it is a pretty lame topic. So I’d say nothing instead.
“I would see you around at school, but you never seemed to notice me or my friends,” she said suddenly.
“Well, I didn’t think you would want to be seen with a freshman hanging around, you know, the underclassmen and all.”
“You know, Charlie, I don’t put much stock in grades we are in or classes and things. I figure, if a guy I like, or would like to like, is a year ahead or behind me, it shouldn’t make any difference,” she explained off handedly. “I’ve always thought that I would like to get to know you.”
Did I hear right? Did she say that she wanted to get to know me? Did the most beautiful girl in the whole world just say that she would like to like me? I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
“Gee, Carol, I had no idea you felt that way about me or I would have…ah…I would have…” I stammered. “I would have probably done nothing about it,” I confessed. “Carol you are so pretty and stuff. I wouldn’t have had the guts to ask you out or anything.”
“You think I’m pretty?” she asked.
“Heck yeah! I think you’re beautiful!” I said.
She just lowered her head, smiled and took my hand in hers and continued to walk. I really thought I was going to pee or something. She actually told me she wanted to get to know me. She was actually holding my hand. I was actually walking along beside her holding hands with the most beautiful girl.
We walked in silence again for quite awhile meandering along with the river. We made a sharp turn with the river and noticed an enclosed structure up on the bank of the river.
“O look, it seems to be a river shack or something. Come on, let’s see,” she said, lifting her skirt over her knees and pulling on my hand. As we scampered up the rocky bank towards the structure, she lost her footing and fell, scrapping her knee on the rocks.
“Ouch, darn it anyway. Now look what I’ve done,” she said looking down at her skinned knee.
“Let’s see,” I said, kneeling down to look at the scrape. I had her leg in my hand just above the knee. It wasn’t bad, didn’t even break the skin. “I think it is going to be alright,’ I pronounced. “It didn’t even break the skin.” I instinctively bent forward and kissed it well, then hurriedly withdrew my lips and hand from her knee as I said, “All better.”
I was so embarrassed. I had just kissed the girl of my dreams on the leg. My gosh, right on the knee, after a grabbed her leg. Gosh, her skin felt so smooth. I started feeling my manhood rise because of the stimulation. If she sees this, I will die. My gosh, why can’t I keep this thing under control?
As we walked up to the vacant shack, all I saw was a beat up old cabin. One of the windows was broken out from a rock being thrown through it and inside, all that remained was an old bed frame, spring and mattress. The cobwebs over the window curtains almost blocked the sun from shining through. It appeared that no one had entered into this cabin in a long time. But to her it was a beautiful old cabin by the river. She went on and on about how nice it would be if it were fixed up.
She turned to me, lowered her gaze to her hands at her lap and said, “Charlie, that was sweet of you. You didn’t have to kiss it all better, you know. I am a big girl now,” she said teasingly. “And you didn’t have to let go of my leg, either.”
What did she just say? Did she just tell me didn’t have to let go of her leg? What is she trying to tell me? What’s going on here?
“I, ugh, I guess I, ugh, didn’t mean to kiss your leg and all…” I stammered.
“Charlie, are you a virgin?” she blurted out. “I am.”
“Carol? What kind of question is that? Am I a virgin?” I stammered, then hesitated a moment. “Well, if you must know, yes I am,” I confessed.
“Charlie, I’m sorry to embarrass you. I didn’t mean anything by it, but I just wanted to know if you’ve ever done it before, I guess. I just wanted to know if you ever thought about it, what it would be like and if…if you would ever want to do it with me?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. What did she say? What about, “if I would ever want to do it with her?” Was she talking to me? I think she just asked me a question so I had better think of an answer and quick.
“Carol, gosh, I mean, gosh have I ever thought about doing it? Hell yeah, I’m 14 years-old! What would it be like? I don’t know but I’m dying to find out. Do I want to do it with you…my gosh Carol, you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire school. Heck yes I want to do it with you.”
She blushed a bright shade of red, then said almost as an after thought, “Well, now what do we do?”
“What do you mean, “Now what”? I stammered. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know Charlie, what do people do when they want to do it?”
“Well, I guess we can kiss, if you would like. I mean if you would let me, I’d like to kiss you,” I said.
“Okay, I’d like that too,” she said. “Come here and give me a nice hug and kiss.”
I walked to where she was standing and took her into my arms. I turned my head slightly and pushed towards her with my mouth. Our lips met and we lingered for a moment, pressing them together. It was nice but it could have been better. I back off and said, “Let’s try that again,” and we kissed once again, with more feeling this time.
As our lips met this time, hers opened just a little so I followed suit. Now our kiss was wetter with more movement to our lips. We continued to kiss as my arms were draped around her back and I was pulling her into me. I could feel the pressure of her breast against my chest and then her thighs against my thighs. All of a sudden, I felt the pressure of her crotch against my crotch.
As I pressed back against her crotch, my erection became apparent to her and I started poking her with it. She sighed a little sigh of contentment and moved her hips in a circle, as she ground into my erection. “O Charlie, I’m getting all hot and sticky,” she said between kisses. “I think I like kissing you. Now what?”
“I don’t know, Carol, I’ve never gone this far with a girl before. What do you want to do?”
“I guess I just want to touch you all over and have you touch me all over, too.”
“Well, I guess we could take off our clothes,” I said, not knowing what else to do.
“Okay, look, we are going to take off our clothes, right? Not counting my shoes and socks, I have four pieces of clothing on. How many do you have?”
“Not counting my shoes and socks, three,” I said.
“Okay, let’s take off our shoes and socks together, then I will take off my dress and then we will take turns. Okay?” she asked, excitedly.
“Sounds okay with me,” and bent over to remove my footwear.
After she did the same, she removed her scarf, her belt then attended to her dress. She unbuttoned the back down to her waist and then, slowly moved the top from her shoulders and off her arms. Lowering it down to her hips, she slid the skirt off of them and stepped out of the garment as it reached the floor. She stood up revealing her full slip.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said.
My hands went to the buttons on my shirt. Making short work of unbuttoning them, I removed the shirt and laid it down on the floor.
Without saying a word, her hands went to her waist and grabbing the fabric of the slip, pulled it over her head and wiggled out of the silky confines until it was clear of her body and laying on the floor next to her dress. She stood back up as my eyes were glued to her body underneath her white bra and cotton panties. The bra covered her breasts completely but her panties were snug over her mound and I could detect a slight crease down the middle. My heart skipped a beat as I reached for my belt.
Unfastening the leather strap, I exposed the button and the top of the zipper of my jeans. As the zipper came down, my hands went to my hips and pushed my jeans over my hips and down my legs to the floor. Stepping out of them and depositing them next to my shirt, I stood up to expose my 6 foot height in just my underwear. I know she was staring at the growing bulge in my crotch, but I made no attempt to hide it. I knew it would be useless anyway, so I just stood there, letting her stare.
Now it was getting serious. Her hands were a little shaky as she reached up to remove the straps of her bra from her shoulders. They were almost hesitant as she slowly dropped them down her arms. But when she exposed her soft tender breasts to my steely stare by lowering the cups off of her two mounds and she turned the bra around to unfasten it, she turned a crimson color of red. Removing it to the floor, she stood back up, squared her shoulders and presented them to me for inspection.
Her pink auroras started to shrivel with their exposure to the air and her little nipples began to harden. She could detect the changes she was feeling and she giggled and placed her arm over them. “I’m sorry,’ she said with her color turning an even redder red. She brought her arm back down to her side as she got control of her emotions and she cleared her throat, lifted her chin and looked past me onto the wall. Her mounds were near perfection. They were neither too big nor too small. They looked soft and tender but firm and steady, all at the same time.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of those beautifully soft mounds of flesh. They look so inviting to touch, to lick and to suckle. I moved my hands down to the waistband of my shorts and then I hesitated. “Do you want to take off my last piece of clothing, my underwear?” I suddenly asked. “I know I would like to remove yours myself.”
Now she was flustered. She turned an even darker color of red. Where is the girl with all of the self confidence? She was turning into a bashful little girl, one who wanted to play but didn’t know the rules of the game. I was taking charge now and it would be me who would call the shots from here on end.
“Carol, would you come over here and take off my shorts,” I commanded. “I know you want to as bad as I want to take yours off. Come on, I want to feel your hands on my jockeys.”
She approached me slyly at first, almost afraid to make contact with me. She reached for the waistband hesitantly and when she made the connection with her fingers, they grasped the top of the band and started pulling it downward. Her eyes were glued to her progress, so when the back slid over my butt and the front started down over my abdomen, her eyes grew wider with anticipation. My shorts got caught up on my swollen stiffness and she had to physically move the waistband over the head which was sticking straight out towards her. She gasped when she first saw what was hidden in the jockeys, as it sprang free of its confines and jumped out at her, she backed away as if it startled her.
As she bent to peel my shorts off of my legs, her forehead made contact with it and she rapidly slid them down my legs to the floor. She looked up to see it as she literally ducked her head around to avoid making contact with it again. Standing before me once again, not taking her eyes of it, I told her, “Reach out and touch it.” As she did, it jerked a little, causing her to pull her hand away. “It’s okay, touch it again. This time use your fingers and cradle it into your palm,” I directed.
Following my instructions, which I didn’t know what to do next, she started stroking it gently. “It feels so soft,” she marveled, “yet, underneath it feels so hard. Am I doing it right?”
“Just use your fingers and move the skin, like this,” I said, demonstrating the movement I was used to using. “O that feels great.”
