tagFirst TimeSlightly, Once Ch. 01

Slightly, Once Ch. 01

byBalrog©

No worries, we're all 18 in this story. She came to me in a dream, especially the shorts, which in the dream were even more risqué, exposing nearly half her delightful cheeks. The vision was pressing her up against the wall and cupping those cheeks in the shorts. Maybe in a later episode. Those shorts would have gotten her tossed out, so I tamed it a little bit. Not that any of this is at all credible.

She rattled around for a long time in my head, wanting to come out on paper. Well, on the screen, at least. Somehow I keep inventing female characters that I fall completely in love with. Kim is no exception. Straight from a dream, however. I only sort of played basketball in high school, and I only knew one six-foot girl. Enjoy, I hope.





Fall registration. Hot August day. My senior year in high school, 1972. Long lines in the gymnasium as we mostly stood around waiting to get our classes. Easier for seniors, and very easy for me, since I'd sacrificed study halls in my first three years to end up with a light schedule my last year.

Then, I saw her. Kim. I had seen her when we were both in summer basketball camp. An even six feet of lithe athleticism, she had been All-State her junior year. I had heard a rumor that her parents had moved into town, and she was transferring to my school. Guess so. There she was.

And was she there. Long blonde hair, parted in the middle, falling loosely halfway down her back. Bright blue eyes, a quick smile, and a ready laugh. She was radiant. But today, it was her shorts. Denim cutoffs so short that her cute, firm cheeks peeked out from below. A plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up, completed a look that was together, and sexy without seeming to try. Sneakers with rolled-down socks made me smile.

She pinned the Adorable Meter. I had watched her at camp. Quick, graceful, extremely talented, surprisingly tough and aggressive without seeming so, yet unaffected by her stardom. She was nice to everyone, sweet, and always happy-go-lucky. I was too intimidated to even talk to her for two weeks. But she had an underlying, subtle sophistication, a maturity. We had, at that time, what we called "the cheerleader mentality," ultimately responsible for that horrible, shallow comment "Have a nice day!" that is spoken all the time now, but never meant. Kim wasn't that, at all. If she wished you well, it was with those deep blue eyes looking right at you. No way would you refuse to comply, and your heart leapt that she would bestow such a blessing. Call it a pleasant intensity. She was a star, as a basketball player, and as a person.

Smitten? Me? I was a nerd before the term was ever applied. A loner, more or less. Quiet. A top student, an average athlete. Painfully shy and insecure. Girls, more or less, terrified me, even as I admired them. Yeah, smitten applied, but fat chance that I would ever even remotely act on it.

She looked over and saw me. With a squeal she left the line and ran over to me...and almost ran me over. It wasn't so much a hug as it was almost a tackle. Totally unprepared, I almost went over backwards.

"Dave! I'm so happy to see someone I know," she exclaimed, as I tried to keep my balance.

"You know my name?" I asked, truly surprised.

"Of course, silly!" she said, backing off her hug enough to look in my face. "I remember you from camp. You have no idea how great it is to know someone here." She hugged me again, tight. She bounced up and down a little, bending the needle of the Adorable Meter.

"Kim, I didn't even talk to you at camp," I said. "How do you even know my name?"

She backed off again, and her eyes twinkled as she looked in mine. "Research," she said simply. The smile behind the twinkle was warm. I felt like a stick of butter in 110 degree heat.

"Can you come home with me for lunch?" It almost sounded like a plea. "Please? Mom will be so excited that I met someone I know. And besides, you're so tall!"

True enough. I was 6'6". But as far as basketball went, I wasn't in her class. I was tall, and solid, but slow, not very quick, and nowhere near as instinctively talented. Nor was I nearly as handsome as she was adorable.

"Please?" How did she make her eyes beg, too? And what chance did I have to resist? The needle bent more.

"I'll meet you by the door when we're through," I stammered. At that time, bewilderment was a common state of being for me.

"Great!" She even sounded like she meant it.

We finished registration just before lunchtime, and met up by the door. "We only live a couple blocks away," she said, looking right at me with that smile. "Let's walk!" And with that, she took off. I was left to catch up, but watching her incredible, tight rear end peeking out from under those cutoffs, mounted upon the longest, loveliest legs I'd ever seen put me in no real hurry to catch up. And the grace she had on the basketball court translated into a motion as she walked that was mesmerizing. Her body just flowed.

Finally, she noticed, stopped and turned around. "Are you sneaking a peek at my butt?" she asked with a wicked smile.

"Uh, you caught me," I said glumly as I walked up to her.

She stroked the underside of my chin, almost as if I were a puppy. "I'll just have to take it as a compliment!" she said, her eyes turning gentle. How did she do that? The needle broke.

Lunch was, well, cute. Her dad had taken a new job nearby. Her mom was really nice, asking a lot of questions about the town, stores, restaurants, the school, people. She also gently probed me for who I was, about my family, my school career. She was subtle, and good. I felt completely comfortable and after a while was concerned that I was babbling. Kim was quiet, just watching me, all the time with this little smile on her face. Her eyes curious. How did she do that?

Mom excused herself to go grocery shopping. Kim laughed. "I think she likes you."

"Doesn't she usually like the boys you bring home?"

"I wouldn't know," she said lightly, "I never have...before now."

"Then why me?"

"Why not? Would you have preferred that I didn't?" The smile was genuine. She was teasing.

"No, not at all," I said, "But I just don't understand why."

"Because I know you from camp. Because you're the only person I know in a new place. Because you're tall. Because I want to get to know you."

I had no idea how to respond. "Well, uh, I guess I'll be going," I said.

"Are you good at math?" she asked.

"Um, yeah, I guess," I said.

"Will you help me? I'm terrible at it."

"Sure. Anytime."

"And can we play one-on-one? I'd love to have someone big like you who can help me work on my moves."

"You mean, basketball?"

Her eyes went wide in surprise, and then she laughed a full, throaty laugh, throwing her head back, and hugging me. I was confused. "Yes, silly. Basketball! What did you think I meant?" Then it struck her. "Oh, my!" she wagged a finger at me. "Naughty boy! Well, we'll see about the other."

I blushed about as deeply as anyone could blush, and hung my head. She looked at me hard. When I met her eyes, I only blushed more. My face was burning up. Her eyes took on a softness, but she was enjoying herself, more, maybe, than just a little bit. "Dave! I'll take that as a compliment, too. I'm flattered." My blush deepened. "And," she said lightly, "I didn't say No. See you at school!"

I left, or more should say, floated, out of the house.

The whole school quickly fell in love with Kim. Always bright and cheerful, she was able to befriend everyone with her open manner, ability to listen, sharp memory, and constant, genuine smile. I saw her daily, and we would chat a little bit. She always had a ready smile and nice things to say. But they never rang false. She was sensitive and perceptive.

She and I started practicing together, playing mostly one-on-one. It gave her the chance to work on her inside moves and rebounding against someone much bigger. She was good. I worked hard to counter her quickness. She, on the other hand, was creative and inventive. I'm embarrassed to say it, but we were evenly matched. But well, to be honest, it was often hard to concentrate. She was gorgeous even with, and maybe especially with, sweat on her face.

And she pulled stuff she'd never pull otherwise. Dribbling, she'd back into me, planting that delicious butt right into my crotch and rubbing it, just a little bit. Just as I was contemplating committing a very personal foul, she would sense my distraction, spin past me and go in for an easy layup. She would laugh at me as she passed me the ball, her eyes just a little wicked. How did she do that?

All the guys at school fell in love with her that fall. She was always surrounded by the most popular guys in the halls. But as weeks passed, I never heard of anyone actually taking her out which, for one thing, kept her from being universally hated by all the girls for stealing the men. Somehow, she was able to stay in everyone's good graces. Finally, I asked her about dating.

"No one has asked me out that I'm really interested in," she said simply. "They're nice guys, but..." She shrugged. The sparkle had left her eyes. That was a first.

"Does that mean you don't want to go out?" I asked.

"No, just that the guy I want to ask me out hasn't yet," she replied. "And to be honest, it's getting pretty annoying."

That's the first time I'd ever heard her say anything even slightly negative. "You mean there is somebody you'd want to go out with?"

"Yup," she said simply.

"Who's that? Maybe I can help?" I said.

She just looked at me, unsmiling. The look became a stare. She wouldn't break eye contact. Slowly, an idea formed in my thick brain. She saw it form. That smile crept into her face and those eyes started to twinkle again.

"Me?" I asked meekly.

The smile grew just a little, and she nodded slightly, just once. I panicked. She saw it and laughed out loud.

"Oh, Dave, I don't bite!"

"But why me?"

"Because you're sweet. Because I can wear heels if we go out." She moved closer; we were almost nose-to-nose. "Because I'll have to go up on tippy-toes to kiss you!" She was inches away, her eyes staring straight into mine, with a huge smile. Remember the Adorable Meter? Good thing it was already broken.

Nonplussed doesn't cover it. I couldn't even speak. She, on the other hand, was completely enjoying my discomfort.

"Well?" she asked, eyebrows raised. There was a long, thick silence while I mustered every bit of courage I could.

"Uh, Kim," I stammered. "Would you do me the honor of going to the Homecoming dance with me?" There. I did it! I have no idea how. I'd never been so terrified in my life.

She clapped and bounced. "Oh, yes! I'd love to go with you!" She threw her arms around my shoulders in a big hug. "I have to go buy a dress!" She ran away, skipping. Gracefully, long hair bouncing.

I was stunned. I had a date, a real date, with Kim!

Homecoming was two weeks away, and couldn't come soon enough. I had never gone before. I had barely dated before, and they could barely be called dates. Painfully shy. Inexperienced. In every way.

We made it a weekend, going to the football game together (and making quite a scene – Kim on a date! I, on the other hand, felt invisible, for which I was grateful). We sat in the stands on a chilly evening, and she held my hand. I thought I might die in bliss. She took my arm as we walked out, and I sensed, just a little, that she was establishing territory, sending a message to the other girls. Not that she needed to. Not that any other girls had designs on me. Not that I wanted to be anywhere else. It was so sweet I almost cried. I took her home and shook her hand at the door. The thought of kissing made my blood run cold. She was graceful enough not to make fun of me, and told me what a great time she'd had.

I had made dinner reservations for before the dance, and arrived to get her at the appointed time with a corsage, tie straight and blazer unbuttoned. Her father met me at the door and let me in. Almost immediately, Kim came down the stairs, and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut – all the air left me. A spaghetti-strap, pale yellow plain mini-dress clung to her curves in the most delicate way. It exposed a little cleavage – she didn't have big breasts, but enough to fill out the dress quite nicely, thank you.

Ending what seemed like several feet above her knees, her toned, long legs descended the stairs, slightly shiny with her stockings. White spike heels – I had expected heels – put her at about 6'3". She wore her long blonde hair loose, a simple string of pearls around her neck, with matching bangle earrings. Light makeup took her natural beauty up several notches. I had never seen her eyes so blue. I had never seen her so radiant, and that was saying something.

"You look amazing," I said, gulping. Yes, I actually gulped.

Her smile seemed only for me. "Thank you," she said gently.

"Here," I said, handing her the corsage box. She opened it and gasped. It was a white orchid.

"Oh, David, it's beautiful! No one has ever given me flowers before!" There was just a trace of a tear. She held it out to me. "You have to pin it on!"

Pin it on? On a spaghetti-strap dress? I looked at her, dumbly.

"Oh look! It has a strap! I can wear it on my wrist!" She put out her wrist and I put it on her, breathing a sigh of relief that the florist had been so thoughtful.

Mom to the rescue, with a huge smile. "Time to be off, kids! Dinner won't wait." She clearly was happy for her. Mom and Dad hugged her. Dad shook my hand and told me to take care of his little girl.

I helped her with her coat. Kim took my arm and led me out the door. Dad called after us to have a good time.

I opened the car door for her, and she got in, immediately moving over to the middle of the bench seat. I stifled my surprise, and went around to get in the driver's side.

Kim nestled in against me., hugging my arm. "You're nervous," she said.

"Truth be told, I'm terrified," I replied.

"Terrified? Why?"

"Because you are just so incredibly beautiful, and I'm scared to act like a jerk."

She laughed out loud. "Nothing you could do would make me think you're a jerk. Not gonna happen." She squeezed my arm.

"Really?"

"Tell you what. Can we get something out of the way?"

"Sure. What?"

"Kiss me." She was staring right at me. Unsmiling. Serious.

"WHAT!"

"Kiss me. Let's get our first kiss over with!"

"You mean, you want to kiss me?"

"One look at the corsage, and you're lucky you didn't get kissed in front of my folks! No one has ever given me flowers before." Her eyes misted, just a little.

I just gaped at her. "I, uh, I've never really kissed a girl before."

"Never?" She looked surprised. "Well, no matter. I've never kissed a boy before. So, we might as well get it over with!" She took my face in both her hands and turned me to her. Our lips met so, so gently. It was brief, but beautiful.

"Hmm," she said, licking her lips. Smiling now. "Nice, but not enough. This time, let's put a little more into it." With that, her lips moved to mine and we pressed them together a bit harder. My hand moved to the back of her head. Her tongue tickled my lips, and my teeth. I opened a little and my tongue met hers, and they danced. I felt electricity coursing through my body. We ended our kiss, and both sighed. She looked at me from inches away. "More later. I'm hungry."

Dinner was delightful. Good food and Kim's light conversation. She was excited about the basketball season. Our girls team was already good, and adding Kim made us a state contender. She thanked me for working out with her, claiming that it was making a difference. I didn't ask her if backing her butt into her female opponents had the same effect on them as it did on me. We didn't drink, but her laugh was intoxicating. I had never had such a pleasant meal. I felt so light that I worried I might float away. We talked about dating. Me: inexperienced. Her: uninterested, but hotly pursued by just about every male in sight. So she hadn't dated, either, focusing instead on a basketball career destined to earn a college scholarship, which was rare at that time for girls I felt completely inadequate, but thrilled to be enjoying her company. She, in turn, seemed to be completely happy.

The dance was magical. Kim was radiant all night long. Other guys asked her to dance, and she would look at me as if to ask permission. Of course I let her. But she insisted on dancing all the really slow dances with me, putting her arms around my neck and pressing close, nuzzling into my neck. I couldn't help it, and developed an erection each time. I'm sure that she couldn't help but notice, pressed that tightly, but she didn't say anything or make fun of me. Fortunately, the faculty wasn't going around with rulers keeping people apart. I could hide my boner that way, pressed against her. I was glad to be wearing a blazer that also hid my arousal.

It was late when I drove her home. I parked in the driveway. There was a light on the porch, but the house was dark.

"My parents have gone to bed," she said. "Good! Can we spend some time here?" She spun around to face me, tucking her legs under her on the seat, and immediately put her arms around my neck. "Please kiss me," she said, and didn't wait for an answer.

We necked for the next half hour, enjoying the sweetest of kisses. Then, I escorted her to the front door, and was rewarded with one last, memorable kiss, her body melting into mine.

"I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Dave," she said. "When can we do this again?"

"Really?"

"Yes, Dave, really," she said, arms around me. "For one thing, with heels on tonight I don't need to go up on tippy-toes. See?" She kissed me lightly again. "We need to go on a more casual date so I can wear sneakers!" She laughed, and held me tight. I felt light-headed.

We made a date. And then another. And more. We became a couple. My shyness decreased, a little. She was so easy to be with.

One night, a few weeks later, while we were characteristically kissing in my car, she pulled back and looked at me.

"When are you going to touch my breasts?"

Not that I hadn't thought about it, but I was still intimidated by this beautiful woman, and afraid I'd do something to screw things up. I said as much. She laughed. "You have been the most wonderful, sweetest gentleman a girl could ever ask for, and I'm deeply grateful that you treat me so well. I love to kiss you, and am grateful that we find so much time to practice it. But could you maybe, please, be a little bit less of a gentleman?" She smiled, tilting her head in the most fetching manner.

I kissed her again. My hand moved inside her jacket and covered her breast over her shirt, the same plaid one she had worn at registration. Her breast felt so smooth. It was an ample handful, and I squeezed it gently. She sighed and arched her back, moving herself into my hand. She reached and undid a button. Looking at me, she said softly, "Take the hint."

I clumsily unbuttoned the rest of the buttons to where the shirt tucked into her jeans. My hand went inside to find her again, gently caressing the firm flesh. I felt her nipple poking at the fabric of her bra. Her breathing came harder. We kissed, tongues deeply entwined. We broke for a second. "It clasps in front," she breathed. I found the clasp, groped at it, struggled, and finally succeeded in unhooking it. She giggled, but followed the giggle by attacking my tongue with renewed fervor.

A thought crept in. I pulled back. "Did you wear this shirt and bra on purpose?"

Her eyes were on fire. How did she do that? "A girl doesn't kiss and tell." She moved in to kiss me.

My hand moved the fabric away, and I touched the bare skin of my first breast. I cupped it and held it firm, feeling the erect nipple in my palm. I caressed it, squeezed it, felt it all over, wanting to memorize every contour. "Pinch my nipple," she whispered. I took it between my thumb and index finger and squeezed, rolling it. She moaned and pressed into me. I kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, slowly working my way down, completely unsure of what I was doing, but getting what sounded like encouraging sighs and moans from Kim.

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