Young LovebyR. Budd Dwyer©
There's this thing about teenage love. It's almost unreal. Each moment of it seems to hurt as much as it feels good. I never thought I'd find actual love. The kind of thing where you ache for it when its not there, and ache even more when it is. 'Alice, someday you're going to meet a nice boy and you'll know when you're in love,' mom told me. 'It will take all of your thoughts and steal all of yourself, and you won't care,' mom always said with a smile. 'You're a pretty girl. Got your mother's hair,' dad always said with pride. Blond, long, and down to my shoulders; just like mom. Got her figure too. Small and slim. Saw a picture of her when she was my age, a few years before the world war. She's standing at the beach in this funny little striped swimsuit. Must've driven my dad nuts, way back when.
But mom was right about love. It's the only time you ask to take a beating. Hurts so good, it's criminal.
I had plenty of admirers. Boys always asked me to the dances and to the movies. I rode in a car twice. They left me notes and sent me letters. One told me it was my eyes he loved. Said they were blue like the sky. Another said he thought my hair was pretty as anything. He liked the way it was straight and swirled around me when I moved. One boy actually had the guts to say he loved my body. But there was one who I knew was the one. One who liked my hair and my eyes and yes, my body too. But the thing that did it, was - me. This one said, 'I just like you. I like your laugh and your words and the way you stand or sit or run. I just want to be with you.' (Emphasis on the 'you.')
Now, luckily I had known this person for some five years. We were in all the same classes in Junior High School. Our parents played cards together, and we'd been good friends all the while. So it was no surprise when I found that one, real, teen love. Her name was Mary.
Mary was a long-armed, long-legged, dark hair beauty. Like something out of an old photo. She wore dresses that looked like flower-patterned gauze and silk, trimmed with simple, dark lace. She had a face that was like a classic painting. All her features were so distinct. She had a nose that curved slightly along the long bridge of it. Her eyes, dark with long lashes, sat under soft, elegantly arched eyebrows. Her lips, as though painted with the utmost care, were wide and had delicate little curves that gave her the look of gentleness and wit.
After we realized that we both felt what we felt, we would find ourselves spending the cool fall evenings in the field by her house. Or, we would lay under the weekend sun and make-out like lovers. With our dresses and underthings in heaps, we would let our hands and lips roam the other's naked body. Her breasts, full and round, would fall gently to the side as she lay on her back. Mine, small and with a slight curve, seemed to become little more than small rises on my chest as I lay beside her.
The grass would tickle our bare bottoms and the inward curves of the small of our backs.
I would begin to love the look of her shoulders as they twisted and moved bone under that nearly brown skin as she knelt on hands and knees before me. Her bottom was round and shapely in my hands, as I would bend forward. Her smell would drift into my head and make me weak. My tongue would move along the swollen lips first, and then, as she would start to push back and tense her long honey-tanned arms, I would push my tongue between those lips into the wet pink between.
When she had reached climax, she would turn around, lay me back and slip two fingers into me. She would lean over, her large breasts pushing at my belly, and kiss my throat. Her fingers would come out, wet and slick, and disappear into those lips that were so delicately painted onto her face. She would close her eyes as she licked them clean. Her face would drift down to mine and our lips would meet. My tongue would play along her own. Her mouth, with my taste still inside, was warm and inviting. Her fingers would slide back inside me and my hips would move slightly as she massaged me - all the while, her mouth kissing slowly against mine.
Teeth that were white like the clouds swimming above us nipped gently at my lips, my neck, and my ears. Finally, she would glide her body along mine, slide her fingers out of me and put her mouth there. Licking and sucking just slightly, I would soon shudder and exhale in one long moan of pleasure.
We would then lay; hands on each other, legs in a tangle, and hot bellies pressed together - and we would enjoy being in love.