by John Foltin
Because I spent so much time on my grades, I had little time for anything else, like dances or dates. You could say I was a recluse.
That’s why I was so surprised when Lindsay, the prettiest girl in the history of our school, approached me at my locker.
“You’re Jeff, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, Mr. Wilhelm recommended you. You see,” talking in a more seductive voice, “I’m having trouble in algebra.”
“You? Get real.”
“No, seriously. And I need a C on the final to pass. So, I was wondering, would you mind tutoring me this week?” She drags her fingers up and down my chest. “If I pass, maybe we could go out on a date. And the better I do, the more fun we’ll have.”
Swallowing in complete surprise, I responded, “Uhh. Sure, I could tutor you. When did you want to start?”
“How’s Monday? The final’s on Friday. This way, if I need it, we could meet more this week.”
“Okay, Monday it is. See you then.”
“Thanks.” She messed up my hair before she left.
The rest of the day, I was a nervous wreck. The prettiest girl in the school wanted to go out with me? Who’d of thunk it?
Monday came. We met at her house. Her mom left us chocolate chip cookies to snack on.
“Okay. So, where do we start?” I couldn’t help staring at her. She was wearing a tank top and short shorts.
“I’m having trouble with my factoring.”
“Okay. That’s one of my favorites.”
“I can’t tell which one to use when.”
“Well, I can help you.”
I made up some problems for us to start on.
“x2 - 25. This is a difference of two squares. It’s easy to see because there are only two terms. You just take the square root of each term and arrange them as (x + 5) (x - 5).”
“That seems easy enough.” She drew her chair closer.
“x2 - 6x + 9. This is a perfect square. The first and third terms are both squares. The middle term is twice the sum of the square roots of the first and third. It factors as (x - 3)2 because the sign of the middle term is minus.”
“I see that now.” I felt her foot brush up against my leg.
“x2 + 2x - 8. This is the hardest kind to factor. The first thing I write down is (x + )(x - ). I can tell that it is plus and minus because the sign of the last term is minus. If it was plus, it would be either both plus or both minus, depending on the sign of the middle term.
“Now, I look at the last term. I think of factors of 8. The difference must be 2. So, I use 4 and 2. Thus the answer would be (x + 4)(x - 2). I put it like this because of the middle term. The larger number goes with the sign of the middle term.”
“Ooh. You’re so smart.” She grabbed my hand.
We worked on some more problems for a half hour.
“I think I get it now. Now, can you help me with my systems of equations?”
“Well, I think it would be better to work on that tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to work on too much at once.”
“Okay. You’re the tutor. You know what’s best. See you tomorrow.” She hugged me on my way out. I started to feel a rise in my Levis.
The next day at school, she waved at me coyly whenever she saw me. I smiled back at her.
That evening, we worked on algebra for an hour. I thought she was ready for her final.
“Do you think you could come over Thursday night? I want to be sure I’m ready.” She looked at me with those cute hound dog eyes. How could I say no?
Thursday, we touched on a little of everything. Now I knew she was going to ace this thing. She kissed me on the cheek as I left.
Day of the final. As expected, I aced all of mine. I waited outside Mr. Wilhelm’s class.
“So, how’d you do?”
“Great. I think I might have gotten an A.” She hugged me. “Thank you so much for all your help.”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
“I’ll find out for sure on Monday. But hold off plans for next Saturday.”
“Okay.”
Monday night, I got the call I had been hanging by the phone for. She was ecstatic.
“Jeff! I got a 93!”
“That’s great.”
“And I owe it all to you. So, I’m going to make Saturday a day you will never forget. Leave everything to me.”
I was a complete basket case all week. I was more worried about embarrassing Lindsay than myself.
Saturday night. Butterflies were churning in my stomach. She was picking me up. I wore a sun yellow henley shirt and denim shorts. I heard a knock at my door.
I looked out the window. I had never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. Blonde hair, shoulder length. Baby blue eyes. Perfect figure. Finger-lickin’-good drumsticks. Wearing a red miniskirt and a midriff bearing T-shirt. I had to wipe the drool from my mouth before opening the door.
“Hello, Jeff.”
“Uhh. Ahh.”
“Jeff? You okay?”
“Yeah. I can’t get over how beautiful you are.”
“C’mon. Let’s go.”
We hopped into her convertible and went to the movies. During the whole movie, she is draped all over me. I can’t believe she wanted to be seen in public with me.
After the movie, she took me up to Lookout Point. I’d heard stories about this place, but I never thought I’d ever be here.
“The movie was for helping me get the C. Now for the rest of the grade.”
She kissed me hard on the lips. Meanwhile, she started working on the zipper on my pants. She took off my glasses. Good thing. They were all steamed up.
“You know, you look much better without glasses.”
“Well, I have to wear them.”
“Ever try contacts?”
“Yeah. Bothered my eyes too much.”
She took off my shirt and started kissing softly down my chest. I didn’t know how to take this.
She took off her shirt. She was not wearing a bra. Her firm teenage breasts were milky white.
“Go ahead. Touch them.”
I was scared to touch them. She took my hands and placed them on her ample bosom. They were as soft as a baby’s bottom.
She whispered in my ear, “I’m not wearing panties under my skirt.” I freaked.
She laid me down on the back seat and proceeded to remove my pants and undergarment. She straddled me. I could feel my rock-hard enter her pleasure zone. For the next few minutes, I felt happiness like I’d never felt before.
“Oh, Jeff. You’re so great.”
“Oh, Lindsay. I love you.”
“Jeff, I ...”
Then, the phone rang and woke me up. This had better be important.
DREAMING OF THE RICH & FAMOUS
Every one of us has had a fantasy of dating a superstar or someone famous. Well, here’s Jeff’s.
Ever since I heard her voice on the radio, I was in love with Jordan. She was the lead singer of the group Unbridled. They had the number one song in the country “I’m Your Girl”. Their self-titled album was also number one.
That’s why I was so excited to hear that their tour was coming to our town. I vowed that, no matter the cost, I would be at that concert. I got there an hour before the box office opened. Unfortunately, there was a long line waiting before me. The box office opened and the mob crowded the window. A half hour later, I got there in time to see the SOLD OUT sign. I was both disappointed and angry.
Jordan’s number one fan and I was going to miss out on possibly her only appearance in my town. I heard my favorite radio station WALT, all alternative, was giving away tickets with the grand prize being two front row seats with backstage passes. The grand prize would be chosen from all the previous winners.
Every time they offered, I called again and again and never got through. On Thursday, I got through. I was caller twelve. They wanted caller thirteen.
On Friday, the day before the concert, I tried
one last time, praying to God with all my heart. I heard ringing. I started to get excited.
“WALT.”
“Am I caller thirteen?”
“You are. Congratulations.”
“Wow! This is great! I can’t believe it!”
I won! I was going to see Jordan! Now I waited until five o’clock to see if I had won the grand prize. Again, I prayed to God.
I was hanging by the phone waiting for the call.
“Now it’s time to call our Grand Prize winner of front row seats with backstage passes. I’m pulling the name out of the fishbowl. Okay. Let’s call.”
RING! I rushed to pick up the phone.
“Hello?!”
“Hello. Is this Jeff?”
“Yes. Did I win? Did I win?”
“You won! You won! You’re getting front row seats and backstage passes to see Unbridled.”
“Yes! Yes!”
Not only was I going to see Jordan, I was going to meet Jordan. Every man’s dream. Now who to take? I called some of my friends. They said they were going out of town. I had no girlfriend. Then, I got a call.
“Hi, Jeff.” It was my friend Gwen.
“Hi, Gwen.”
“Listen. I hear you won tickets to the Unbridled concert. Found anyone to go with yet?”
“Not yet. Let me guess. You want to go?”
“Let’s just say,” in a seductive voice, “I’d do anything to go to that concert. Anything.”
“Well, since you’re the first person to call me, okay. You can go. Just meet me here around six o’clock.”
“Great. See ya then.”
5:30 Saturday, Gwen came over. She was wearing a tight short, revealing red outfit. Normally, this would turn me on, but my mind was focused on Jordan.
7:00. The opening act came on. 7:05. I wanted them to get off the stage. They sucked. It was a local band. Now I knew why they were still local.
7:45. They finally ended their session. For the first time tonight, the crowd cheered. They chanted, “We want Jordan! We want Jordan!”
8:30. Unbridled took the stage. Jordan was wearing a purple skin-tight jump suit, accentuating all her assets. Her bleach blond hair was done up in pigtails. She overdid the lipstick. I didn’t care. I was mesmerized by her.
They played for an hour and a half. They mixed stuff from the new album coming out next month with stuff from their debut album. They finished with “I’m Your Girl”. Of course, we demanded an encore. For an encore, they played their current hit “All Wound Up”.
As the crowd filed out, Gwen and I made our way backstage. I was fighting through the crowd. That’s how excited I was to meet Jordan.
We got backstage. Gwen left to schmooze with the band, leaving me alone with Jordan. I was sweating like a pig.
“Hi, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Uhh! Uhh!”
“You do have a name, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Oh, Jeff.”
“Hi, Jeff.” She shook my hand.
“Wow! This is such an honor. I’m your biggest fan. You are so beautiful.”
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. Is that your girlfriend over there?”, pointing to Gwen.
“No, just a friend.”
“Well then, come with me.”
She took my hand and led me back to their trailer. She invited me inside.
“So, you’re my biggest fan?”
“Yeah. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Bark like a dog.”
“WOOF. WOOF.”
“Slap yourself in the face.” I did it.
She walked in the bathroom. I heard water running. I looked around the trailer at all the souvenirs and pictures. Suddenly, she called out to me.
“Jeff, could you come here for a minute?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
I walked into the bathroom. She was taking a shower.
“Could you scrub my back?”
“Your back?”
“You said you’d do anything for me,” in a sexy voice.
“I did, didn’t I? Okay.” I hurried up and undressed. I opened the shower door. There was Jordan, shimmering and naked. My wildest fantasy come true. I reached for the sponge and gently rubbed it along her spine. She turned around and kissed me. We got out of the shower. I dried her off, then I dried myself off.
“Jeff, my shoulders are tense. Could you massage them?”
“Sure.”
We sat on the bed, me behind her. Gently, I rubbed her shoulders. Her head cocked back from the relief of tension. I worked my way down her back. Now, her back arched.
“You’ve done so much for me. Let me do something for you.”
She lay me down on the bed and removed my towel. Then, she removed her towel. Her body was still damp. Her breasts glistened.
“Just lie there and let me do the work.”
She mounted me. My sprout entered her foliage. I grabbed onto her hips. She wiggled around like a fish out of water. I screamed out in ecstasy. She was moaning like crazy. My hands slid to her rear and gripped tightly.
“Oooh, Jeff. Thanks for being my number one fan.” She tenderly kissed my lips.
“I’ll always be your number one fan. But how will my friends believe what happened here tonight?”
She reached under the bed and grabbed a camera.
“This is how.”
She set the timer to take one of her mounted on me. She took one of us kissing. She took one of us, arms around each other. She also autographed a poster for me. I gave her my phone number.
“Here’s my number. Give me a call next time you’re in town.”
“I promise. Maybe I’ll call you before then.”
We got dressed, and she walked me back. She kissed me gently on the cheek and grabbed my can before leaving. Here came Gwen.
“So, Jeff, what happened?”
“Nothing, we just talked. She showed me pictures. That’s all. How ‘bout you?”
“Oh, nothing. Those guys were jerks. I just stood around waiting for you.”
We headed back to the car.
“I had a great time tonight, Jeff. But it’s not over yet.”
She rubbed her hand up my leg. After Jordan, nothing could turn me on. Or could it?
We got home. She invited herself inside. She planted a hard, long kiss square on the lips. She started to undo my fly.
“Wait a minute. I don’t want to.”
“I said I’d do anything to go to this concert.”
“Yeah. But not this.”
“Why not?”, as she nibbled my ear.
“Because we’re friends.”
“So, can’t friends do this?”, as she unbuckled my pants.
“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” She stroked my schlong. “I mean, oh why not?”
“That’s better.” She dropped to her knees, stroking harder and faster.
She took off her pants and panties. She lay me on the floor and slipped it in. She started bouncing up and down.
“Oh, Jeff.”
“Oh, Jordan.”
“Jordan?” She pulled out, slapped my face, and left.
Just then, I woke up. I turned on the radio and what was playing? You guessed it. “I’m Your Girl”.
FRIEND AND LOVER?
They say most good relationships start out as friendships. Well, what if that one special friendship turned into more than that? Let’s see.
I remembered the first time I met April. She had been dating one of my best friends for a few months. We became the best of friends. Even after they broke up, we kept in touch.
There were times when I wanted to go out with her, but I thought of her more as a sister than a friend. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.
She was very promiscuous. She was the type who liked to flirt, but she never did with me.
I would go to see her on occasion. We would catch up on what was going on with our lives. She would tell me about the guys she was seeing. Of course, I couldn’t return the banter.
One day, I went to talk to her.
“Hey, Honey.” We were friends, but we called each other affectionate nicknames.
“Hey, Sweetie. How you doin’?”
“Okay. I guess. I’ve been doing some thinking.”
“About what?”
“I think I’m going to stop going out with a different man every week. I want someone who’s interested in the real me. Someone who’s not interested in a quick fix.”
“Well, I hope you find him. I hope you have better luck than me. I can’t even find a quick fix. Not that I’m looking for that. You know what I want. Someone to appreciate me for me. Someone to start off as friends first and work our way up.”
“Sounds like what I want.”
We talked for a while longer, and I left.
I figured the next time I went over to see her, it would be like normal. Wrong.
“Hey, Honey.”
“Hey, Sweetie.”
“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about last time.”
“Uh-huh. And?”
“I found someone. He’s sweet, attractive, and one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. He thinks just like me.”
“Great. Do I know him?”
“I think so.” She inches closer to me.
“Well, who is he?”
She put her arm around me, looked into my eyes, and smiled. “It’s you, Jeff.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. And it works out for you too. We’re already past the first stage. We’re already friends. I’m not looking for the quick fix.” She wraps a leg around mine. “I’m looking for the long run.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” kissing me on the cheek. “Just sit back and relax.”
She repeatedly kissed around my face, finishing on the lips. She started to take off her shirt.
“Wait a minute. Something doesn’t feel right. I think of you as a sister.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it feel all right,” finishing taking off her shirt. She was wearing a black lacy bra. She took my shirt off.
“Oh, I just love a man with a hairy chest,” rubbing her fingers up and down my chest.
