The idea for these narratives started as talks with my wife about my sex drive vs. hers. She holds the viewpoint that I am somewhat overly focused on sex at our age, which is for us, early our 50s. We have had many discussions and comparing of experiences, what it all actually accomplished is yet to be seen.
What I learned in College -Ch.5.0- 2nd Year- Shelley
My summer of having two long time girl buddies who were slightly bi fuck came to an end all to soon. I had stray thoughts about changing schools to be with them, but it seemed a little like wishing for too much of a fantastic thing. It would have had to in some way end up as a colossal fuck-up. It just would have had to...
So, instead of trying to find a house for the three of us to rent at the real University in the state, I was back at the state teacher's college shithole doing marching band camp in a dry county 45 miles from the closest liquor store. Fuck me.
For those of you a little attention span beyond the fucking part, College Marching Band Camp, as we knew it at shithole state was a ball buster. This is so long ago that nobody even thought about heat stroke. You were just a "pussy" and couldn't take it. That was according to the asshole with a PHD in Music Ed in charge of the late August goat fuck that was marching Band Camp. Fuck him and fuck everybody in charge of that shit!
Anyway, we all lived through it plus or minus some sunburn, puking and an increased chance of skin cancer later in life. The capper of the whole week of bullshit from Dr. Asshole was telling us that there would be no band parties until after the first ball performance. He gave some bullshit reason about the local citizens complaining to the cops about last year. Fuck them too!
It was Friday of Band Hell Week and we had been released form rehearsal early so the majority of folks could go home for a weekend before the start of school the next week.
I had been home enough for the summer and would be able to see Liz and/or Janice, so I stayed at school to practice and try to get my head wrapped around being back at school.
By 8 p.m. had had cleaned up, eaten and practice more than two hours, or what I called "a good start". As I was changing to my bass trombone there was a knock at the practice room door as Shelley peaked in saying, "Wow, you sound great and I can hear you all the way down the hall. You're easy to find, Mal."
I had been expecting to bump into Shelley. She had asked several mutual friends about how I was doing since Rhonda left. She was naïve enough to ask both Linda and Curt without assuming they'd get around to telling me that she was asking after me.
We had a strange relationship. I had known her since junior high even though we went to different schools then. We both ended up in honors bands and played with the all city orchestra when they needed winds. By high school, it was more of the same.
She knew I had my eye on her back then, but she had dated a guy two years older that we were that was a mutual friend. That relationship lasted until the end of the school year when she got dumped and was told he was going to a college across the state.
The only big scandals involved there was that for a couple that were nominally considered Christians, he had a girlfriend that he had been seeing from the other school and with that information coming out Shelley had used the word "bastard" and a few other choice bon mots to describe what she thought about Robert.
The other consideration was that Shelley and I had two years of high school together without Robert around and she had used me as a surrogate boyfriend, hanging out with me on trips, etc. It had all been perfectly harmless other than to my ego until a trip back home after an all-state band concert.
We ended up in the backseat of a huge passenger van being driven by her junior high band director. Everyone settled down quickly and things got quiet. Shelley tucked her feet underneath herself and snuggled up against me to fall asleep. It wasn't the first time or the first time that I had a slight discomfort in my pants at her nearness.
Actually, it was the nearness of her huge 38D to DD tits. She knew what she was doing and I always let her sleep against nice, safe Malcolm because she would wrap her hands around my arm and snug my upper arm and elbow tight against those soft, warm sweater puppies. She done the same thing on a summer trip wearing a t-shirt and a sports bra and nearly caused me to have a stroke, or have to stroke it.
Shelley sleepiness and the motion of the van on the road and my fatigue caused us both to slump together a bit more than ever before. I could smell her hair; it was always floral with an undertone of cinnamon. I so wanted to know if that was how her pussy smelled.
Anyway, somewhere along the trip, her hand slipped (?) down unto my thigh and it had to by the side my cock was on, wouldn't it. If the van took a little bump, Shelley would reflexively hang on to what soon became my hardening cock. It would have been great if she had blown me and reduced my swelling. Instead, she woke up with a hand full of my tool and a nervous disposition. I played 'possum and she took a moment to figure out how to try and disentangle herself from me without waking me up.
She made the mistake of accidentally (?) giving me a little squeeze as she moved to sit up.
Looking at her with my best "surprised" face, she gave me a nervous look that read as confused. I took the opportunity to make the only sexual innuendo remark to her of our friendship, saying:
"Hang on to me if you need to, I can hold you up." I said, glancing in the general direction of my cock.
Even in the partial darkness, I could she her blushing through her slightly freckled complexion. Blonde hair, freckles, a little meat on her bones and big tits, what more do you need. Oh yeah, a willingness to suck cock...that helps too.
So, here we were about eighteen months later, both of us unattached, and her tracking me down to a practice room with no other exit. What now?
I broke the slightly awkward ice by asking, intentionally with a tone of incredulity to my voice:
"You're here, Shelley?" The implied what the fuck came through well.
She looked a little confused and could have shaded towards dismayed, before rolling her eyes as she remembered who she had come to see.
"I can't be home another minute. My folks are driving me crazy. It's been going on since last spring and all summer. Damn Robert. "
Yeah, her folks had it all figured out. Nice conservative Robert takes care of their little girl. I had that one figured out since the first time years ago when I had dropped Shelley off at her house. Her Mom looked at me like I was a feral dog about shit on their rug and hump someone's leg...but not Shelley's! I figured her Mom need a good fucking...her Dad was invisible in this dome of pussy-whipped-ness.
Shelley looked fantastic in a tank top; canvas shorts and flip-flops that showed off her freshly lacquered toes nails. Maybe I could get her to just stand there and let me jerk off...?
I tuned in from my fantasy to hear her say, "Would you come back to my room and hang out with me?"
Trying to find some way to keep my cool and knowing a few things about her since college, I offered a premise.
"If you'll let me bring some Wild Turkey and cokes. How 'bout?"
"I was hoping you were going to offer some refreshments. I'm not really prepared for school yet." She joked, excepting my counter offer.
She noticed that I had been in the middle of changing instruments and acknowledged that by adding," You can take your time if your not done. I'll go back and wait..."
