Apologize

This story was inspired by a song by OneRepublic. I hope you enjoy and I hope I did the song justice. As always, all comments appreciated.

My name is Kurt Cline. You may not know me by name, but when I describe myself you'll think of someone you know that is just like me.

I am an all or nothing kind of guy. Whatever I was into at the time was all I would talk about. I didn't care too much about what you were in to. Consequently, I wasn't your friend, in fact, I didn't have any real friends. You might say "Hi" to me but would try not to get into a conversation with me. I would prattle on and on about what was important to me.

Thus, in school, I retreated into my own world. It was a world of art, fantasy art to be exact. I got really good at it. Two artists in particular that I tried to emulate were Frank Frazetta and Boris Vallejo. They both were huge in the 70's. In fact, if you are in to Classic Rock you've probably seen their art on album covers. My dad had his record collection and I saw Molly Hatchet and Ozzy Osbourne cover art. I was hooked. Both of them focus on the human form, especially the buxom women, in fantasy settings. To a hormonal teenage boy, it was like crack.

Being the all or nothing kind of guy, I delved right in, to the exclusion of almost everything else. The way they captured the human form with all the muscles evident under the tan skin, or even the muscles evident in the animals, both real and fantasy, made you believe they were real. It made me believe in fantasy, a world where I wasn't an outcast or an annoyance. I wanted to be in those worlds to be the "hero" standing next to the almost naked woman, the "lady in distress". The shading, the tones, the shadows, they all added to the effect...

Oh, I see your eyes are glazing over as again I monopolize the conversation with details, details, details. I can see you're ready to get away from me. Don't worry, I'm used to it.

Let me tell you some more before you go. One day Dad saw me working on my own fantasy art and said, "Son, you've got talent, but unless you're going to be a tattoo artist you'd better learn a trade to support yourself.

Well as you probably know, I wasn't a people person so tattooing was out. I started checking out some jobs that I could make enough to live on. My Art teacher said, "You should check out Graphic Artist/Graphic Design. I think you would do well in that sort of job. They have courses at the Tech Center."

Long story short, (well shorter) I spent half my day in school going to core classes and the other half at the Tech Center. One of my core classes was biology. I really liked that class, especially when we dissected the frogs. Seeing the muscles when we opened it up was awesome. It made me understand the human form even that much better. It made my art even that much better.

Another reason I really liked it was because I was paired up with Angela, a girl I would eventually marry. It was not a pairing that she wanted. Again, I was the guy people didn't necessarily want to be around.

The teacher thought that it would be good for her to be lab partner with me. She wasn't the prettiest girl in school, but she was to me. What she was, was popular. She was from a rich family so she was one of the "in" crowd. She dated jocks and partied every weekend with the "cool" kids.

When she got assigned to be my lab partner for the project, she complained to the teacher to get reassigned. The teacher evidently told her that she needed to be with me because her grades were such that she might not pass the class if she didn't get an A on this project. Also, I would keep her from getting distracted by talking to her lab partner all day long (which she was prone to do).

As we proceeded to start dissecting the frog I hardly said anything, I was tongue tied. She was way above my station in the hierarchy of our school, and also in life.

She saw how in to dissecting I was and made a comment, "That's gross."

"It's amazing," I said, forgetting my shyness. "To see the way the muscles are made and attached to the bones, and how they move and ripple when I move them is unbelievable. To see the veins and arteries, the cartilage, the way the bone forms the structure and supports the muscles, it's just wonderful."

"You're weird." Was all she said.

"This will help me draw better." I stated.

She looked at me with a puzzled look on her face.

"I'm an artist," I said. "This will help me with getting the muscles to look right."

"You're weird." She said again.

Well, weird or not, I helped her get an A and saved her from having to retake the class.

After biology class was done she didn't say much during the next two years of high school. She would occasionally say, "Hi", but only if none of her other friends were around.

After graduation I got a job at a printer/sign/banner shop. My ability to make the graphics had really flourished and I was soon the set-up man, designing and getting the jobs ready to run. I was still not very good around people so I was given jobs and I did them. On Monday mornings I was given the jobs and my boss and I worked up a deal where I stayed until they were all set up to run production. This took me, usually, until about midnight. It was a 16 hour day, so I got Fridays off, a three day weekend every week. I spent most of that time traveling around the countryside looking for great settings to use for my fantasy art. It was my passion.

Sorry, there I go again, babbling on. You don't care about that. You want to know why I'm just hanging out in my back yard waiting for the police. To explain that I need to tell you how I came to be married to the angel that is my wife.

A couple of years after high school I was in the basement of my parent's house. (Yes, I still lived with them. I was saving to buy a house. My parents didn't mind, I was quiet and didn't have friends, male or female, that would come over. They actually encouraged me to save money.) Anyways, my mom called down to me and said that a woman was calling me on the home phone. (Yes they still had a landline phone.) A woman calling me? Must be a telemarketer.

I ran up the stairs, it was a woman after all. I answered the phone and it was my future wife, my biology lab partner. "What was she calling me for?" I thought. Well, she explained that she had flunked out of the State University because she partied just a bit too much and didn't study enough. Then she explained that her parents made her go to the local college. Maybe, after she showed she could get serious abut her schooling, they would send her back to the State University.

What she was calling me for was that she was studying to be a nurse and was taking an Anatomy class and needed help. She knew I was good at biology and I helped her get an A on our project so she thought that I could help her. Of course, she would, "Make it worth you're while." She had said. I wasn't sure what she meant but my mind was definitely going through some different scenarios. I was a 20 year old red blooded American male after all.

Turns out her parents were willing to pay me to tutor her. I told her that I had Fridays off from work and we made arrangements to meet after lunch. I took a look at her course book and at least all the skeletal and muscular chapters were just review for me. I would, however, have to spend some time studying all the other aspects of the human body.

We spent every Friday afternoon together and we actually started to carry on conversations about things other than her Anatomy class. She was somewhat depressed that she wasn't able to be with all her friends at the University. The people that were going to the local college were not people she wanted to hang around with. Her weekends were boring, none of her friends came home, so she didn't have anyone to party with.

One afternoon, when we were done studying, I made mention of how much better my art had become since I had been studying the muscles for her class. She said, "I'd like to see that."

"No, I don't show anyone my art. It's too personal." I was actually afraid to show it to her, she had been my unknowing model for most of them.

"Come on, you've been talking about it since high school. Let me see your art. I bet it is amazing. Your attention to detail is so great."

"I don't think so." I responded.

"Come on," She said with a lilt in her voice and a smile on her face. "Let's go look at it now."

When she looked at me like that how could I say no. I had had a crush on her since grade school. She didn't know that, I had never told anyone and while we were lab partners I barely said two words to her. That way I wouldn't inadvertently say something that would give me away. I was just elated to be standing so close to her.

"Okay," I said, "But you've got to promise me that you won't laugh, and whatever you do, don't take anything the wrong way. The art is a bit risque'."

"I won't, I promise."

Well, reluctantly I took her over to my parent's house and went down to the basement. As we got to the bottom of the stairs and I opened my bedroom door, she gasped. My face turned beet red. On the wall, above my headboard, was a picture I had drawn of an angel with wings spread and arms outstretched forward in a kind of beckoning pose looking down from above. The clouds were white and puffy surrounding her. Her wings were so detailed that if you looked close you could see individual feathers.

The reason she had gasped was what caused me to turn red. She had seen the face of the angel, it was like she was looking at a reflection, every aspect was her, even the little freckle on the side of her chin. I had worked on that face for months getting the right expression as well as every detail, an exact copy.

She then looked around the room. I had stacks of prints, half of them had her as the woman character. I had many of them with tan skinned, leather trimmed, muscular "hero" helping or guarding the "heroine". I obviously hadn't seen her without her clothes on, but I had captured her perfectly in various outfits, from bikini skimpy to full leather and metal armor with a sword in her hand fighting a wild catlike alien creature.

Once the shock of seeing herself as the subject of so many of my pieces wore off, she relaxed and really started to look at them. She started naming the muscle groups evident under the skin. She ran her fingers along them as she named them.

"Wow, the detail is incredible. You really captured the power and vitality within each muscle."

I think she had a greater appreciation for the human form now that she saw these. The muscles weren't just names on a page anymore.

After about an hour of looking at my art she said, "Wow, I think we'd better go now. Thank you for showing me these. I know it took a lot of guts to show me."

We didn't say much as we left and I drove her back home. Me, because I was embarrassed and her, because she now knew how I felt about her.

One Friday, after a particularly difficult study session, she asked me if I wanted to go grab a bite to eat. Did I want to spend time in public with this gorgeous woman? Ahh, yeah!

We did this for about 6 weeks. Then she saw someone she knew while we were out. She told them it was kind of a requirement since I was helping her with her studies. I almost expected it so I didn't say anything. When it happened again I quickly finished my meal and left her with her friend.

The next Friday she apologized, but it didn't seem like she really meant it. It was strictly study that day and we didn't go out afterwards. The next Friday she apologized again, I heard the sincerity in her voice this time and accepted it. She smiled and said, "Thank You" and gave me a quick peck on the lips. Needless to say, I didn't teach her much that day, my mind was on other things. That night we went out and after dinner she asked if I wanted to see a movie. I told her I had nothing scheduled for the next morning so I agreed.

Well, in the movie theatre, she gave me more of a kiss. Our tongues were dueling. I didn't have much experience, but she didn't laugh or seem disappointed in the results. After a few weeks of this I was on top of the world, so I naively asked her to be my girlfriend. I think she laughed out loud before she knew what she was doing or what affect it would have on me.

I got up from the table we were studying at and told her that she needed to find someone else to tutor her. She said, "I'm sorry" again.

"I'm sorry?!!" I exclaimed. "I thought you had feelings for me, you know I have feelings for you." She apologized again, more profusely.

I told her that I had taught her as much as I could. She would have to handle the rest on her own. I walked out. When I got home my mom told me she had called. I waited a half hour and then called her. Her voice was heavenly when she picked up, I knew I was going to forgive her. She told me how sorry she was and that if I wanted to make it official she would agree to be exclusive with me. Of course I said yes, naively forgetting the laugh from less than an hour ago. I was so smitten, we were a couple now.

In the days ahead we were together and getting closer, both mentally and physically. I would spend all of my free time with her.

One Friday night her parents were gone and she wondered if I wanted to stay in tonight and watch a DVD. I agreed and that night we got really physical, our hands were all over each other. We were kissing passionately, lustfully, when her hand started rubbing my dick through my jeans. I was about to explode. My hands had worked their way up her shirt and under her bra, her nipples were as hard as erasers. I so wanted to suck on them. I pulled up her shirt and pulled her bra up over here ample breasts. I started kissing them and sucking them, first one then the other. Her breathing was getting more pronounced. She was rubbing my dick vigorously through my jeans. I had to do something or else I was truly going to explode in my pants.

I hate to admit it, but I was a virgin. I had never gotten physical with any girl prior to her. I, however, had viewed a lot of internet porn. I'm not proud of that. What I am proud of is that, like everything else I had interest in, I had studied it extensively. Not just watching porn, lest you think me I'm a perve. I read many, many books, magazines, articles, and even erotic stories. From all of that I knew that women liked it when a guy went down on them. I am ashamed to say that I practiced what I read, how to move my tongue, use my fingers, even my lips and nose to titillate a woman. I had to buy a doll to practice on, that was embarrassing.

This is where my art obsession helped me. I learned about the human form. I studied every inch of the body in books and on the internet. In regards to the female anatomy, I knew the name of every different part, how the muscles were under the skin, the placement and concentration of the nerves, responses to different stimulation, even how physical attention, caresses, and manipulation of other parts of the body affected her vaginal responses.

Well, I knew that tonight was the night to put all of that practice to work. If I didn't stop her from rubbing me I would cum, so I pulled back from her nipples, looked into her eyes lustfully, and told her that I wanted to please her. She looked at me, also with lust in her eyes, and I kissed my way down her belly, unzipping her pants as I did. She lifted her hips and I pulled her pants down. Her panties were a bright hot pink, high waisted type, that made my heart skip a beat when I saw them. I looked up at her and she had a mischievous look on her face. I pulled her pants all the way off and she said, "Let's go to my room, it will be more comfortable than this couch."

We ran to her room, leaving the DVD playing, it would stop on its own. As we entered her room I tickled her softly, touching her sides as I worked my way up to her breasts. She was taking her shirt and bra off and I was shedding my clothes as fast as I could.

She turned around and I kissed her passionately, lovingly on the lips and neck and tickled her earlobe with my breath and then sucked gently on it, sending shivers up her spine. With my hands caressing the sides of her breasts, I started to gently cup them. I started softly pinching the nipples as I worked on one earlobe and then the other as well as up and down the side of her neck.

She was breathing hard and was grabbing at my cock, pulling it towards her. She was stroking me quickly. I whispered in her ear, "You're going to make me cum if you don't stop that. I want to make you cum first." She stopped stroking me, but still held on as if it was a precious treasure that she didn't want to lose. I gently removed her hand and laid her back on the bed. Her legs spread slightly and I got a whiff of her arousal.

It was the first time I had smelled any woman. I had read it smelled fishy, but I felt that was a lie, it smelled musky sweet to me. I wanted, no I needed, to taste it, but I knew I needed to take my time. I wanted her to remember this forever. To be honest, I wanted her to want to come back for more, actually, to be addicted to me.

I kissed her softly on her ankles, then out to her toes. She tried to pull her foot away as it must have tickled her, but I held on. I gently sucked each toe. Then I grabbed her other foot and repeated the process. Her breathing had slowed, but I could tell this was having an affect on her because she was squirming, rubbing her thighs together.

I started kissing first one ankle then the other and worked my way up her shin, then lifting her legs up I lightly nibbled on her calves. She moaned softly and I worked my way farther up her legs toward her knees. I kissed the backs of each knee and started massaging her legs, moving up to her thighs. She started opening her legs. I could tell she wanted me to get to her sweet spot, but I knew from all of my research that the anticipation was half the erotic aspect of the sexual experience.

As she continued to spread her legs I grabbed her hips and gently, yet firmly, turned her on her front. She protested a little but spread her legs even more expecting me to work on her from behind. I kept kissing and nibbling her thighs until I reached her beautiful ass. I had always thought her ass was perfect, not too big and not too small, nicely shaped globes of flesh rising from her smooth back.

As I worked my way up her back, kissing softly, I put my hand on her inner thigh and made little circles with my fingers, careful to stay at least an inch from her swollen labia. When my lips kissed her shoulders I let my fingers brush against her outer lips. This made her moan more loudly and she spread her legs even further. I heard her breathing coming in shorter more ragged breaths. As she did this I parted her vaginal lips with one of my fingers and caressed the inside of her outer lips, working my way down one side and up the other. As I neared the clitoris I started a slight in and out pressure. She was breathing heavily now and I knew that it wouldn't take much to make her orgasm. When I felt the time was right I turned her back over and started massaging her clit with my thumb and slowly probed in and out with two of my fingers.

She screamed out loudly as her orgasm hit. Her body convulsed, her hips jumping off the bed. I had anticipated this so I kept my hand in place, continuing to finger fuck her as well as rubbing her clit with my thumb. Wave after wave of orgasmic convulsions racked her body as she clamped her legs together on my hand. I didn't let up. If I had to guess I'd say she had 3 orgasms lasting at least 5 minutes.

When she came down she pushed my hand away and gasped "No ...Stop ... too much." I knew she was overstimulated so I allowed her to relax from her orgasmic high. As she did I repositioned myself between her legs and started slowly kissing my way up the inside of her thighs. She tried to push my head away but I kept kissing and nibbling just a little bit. After a few minutes she started to relax and spread her legs for me. The smell of her sex was intoxicating to my nose. I had to taste her.