Memories of Alane

There are good memories and bad memories. These are the good memories. Mostly.

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I met Alane back in 1980 when she was 20 and I was 30. She was a theater student at a college near where I lived.

At the time I was a computer programmer, but when I was in school, I did a lot of "technical theater" work in local community theaters, and in the same college Alane was now attending. I had two very good friends that worked in the theater department in the college. Pat was the head costumer, and Gary was the technical director.

It was ten years since I'd been a student there, but most days I'd go a few miles out of my way home from work and visit my friends at the college. Everyone in the theater and music faculties knew me, and we would stop and chat if they weren't in a rush. The technical theater students that worked in the shop also knew me if they had been around for a while. I would spend hours helping out in the shop since I really enjoyed doing that, and it was more exercise than I could get in my day job as a computer programmer.

I met Alane's "little" sister Lynn first, by a few weeks. She was an artist, and enjoyed painting sets and drops. Lynn was spectacular. Six foot one inch, about 4 inches of bushy bright blond hair, a beautiful face, and a very muscular body. Not a body-builder's piles of useless muscles, but the kind of muscles you get from doing real work and enjoying it. I am just under six feet tall, and it was a bit of a surprise to have to look up when I talked to a woman. In those days, six feet was tall for a woman. Lynn was a bit of a tomboy and always wore jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. Unlike some students that dressed that way, it was a visibly clean and different shirt every day.

I got to know Lynn quite well. We never dated, or even considered it. It wasn't because she was twelve years younger than I was, it was because she was a confirmed lesbian. We both knew it, and both accepted it. Gay people were very common in theaters then, and still are now. You quickly got to know and accept everyone's personal orientation. That didn't mean that you couldn't go out together to dinner or a bar. Theater people love to party. You just didn't ask someone home to your bed if you weren't mutually interested in each other. That didn't mean that they couldn't crash on your couch or the spare room if they needed to.

A few weeks after meeting Lynn I met Alane. She was also a theater student, but she was in the acting classes, not the shop classes. The acting classes met on stage, and the shop classes met in the shop or costume department or control booth. All of these were separated from the stage by large soundproof doors that were usually closed. As a 'techie' you might occasionally walk across some part of the stage while an acting class was in session. But you and the actors both had your own things to do, and nobody had much time to chat with or get to know the people in the other group.

Alane would walk through the shop now and then, and my eyes tracked her like a magnet. I had no idea who she was, but I wanted to correct that oversight. That correction turned out to be easier than I expected. Occasionally when I visited with Pat I'd find her chatting with Alane. At some point Pat introduced the two of us. We didn't immediately fall into each other's arms, the introduction just meant that we knew each other's names, and could engage in group conversations when a bunch of us were sitting around and talking.

Alane, like her sister, was a blonde, with golden hair down her back almost to her waist. She was five foot nine or ten, about an inch shorter than I was. She often wore heels, so matched me in height almost exactly. It's fun to be able to look a beautiful woman straight in the eyes, and Alane was beautiful.

Alane almost never wore a bra. I can vividly recall the feel of her large breasts pressed against my chest when we hugged. She usually wore a very nice dress, but not infrequently would wear jeans and a thin and tight white t-shirt. The t-shirt was definitely not flat, and also definitely not all one boring shade of white. There were a couple of interesting round targets moving around in that shirt which attracted a lot of eyes. She knew this would happen; that was exactly why she dressed that way. Alane liked guys. No, Alane really liked guys.

Women will talk about things that men never think of discussing with their friends. One evening Pat told me that Alane really liked guys. It wasn't unusual for Alane to sneak off somewhere with a guy for a few minutes, and show up with a big smile on her face. It wasn't that unusual for this to happen more than once in a day, often with a different guy each time. Pat suggested that Alane and I might make a pretty good couple. I grinned at that. Pat had noticed that my eyes followed Alane any time she was around. I wasn't all that sure Alane and I were compatible from Pat's description. I was thirty, but I'd only had three girlfriends over the years, and Pat knew all of them. I wasn't at all sure Alane would be all that interested in an older nerd, especially one that probably knew a tenth of what she knew about sex. No, probably a whole lot less than a tenth as much.

But Pat had decided I needed another girlfriend, and decided to play matchmaker. And Pat had a way of quietly managing to get the outcome she wants. Both Alane and I knew that, and weren't going to even try to fight it, so we started spending more time together. We found we were comfortable being together, and had a few common interests we could talk about.

That year Ralph, the ex-head of the theater department, was involved with the Puppeteers of America, an organization of both the most widely known professional puppeteers that everyone knew from TV, and amateur puppeteers nobody outside the organization had ever heard of. Some were very good, and some were not very good, but they all had fun together at their week-long annual convention. They were going to have their convention in a hotel in San Diego this year.

Ralph had volunteered to provide a portable stage for the meeting where the puppeteers could perform for the other members. Of course Ralph didn't have one, which meant that Gary had to quickly design one, and the theater shop crew had to knock it out in about two days. Two long days and evenings later it was built, painted, checked, disassembled, and packed on a truck for the trip to San Diego, along with a lighting rig, sound system, and crates of other stuff.

Several of the theater students were invited to go along, or asked if they could go along. There were rooms available in the conference hotel, so they only had to provide their own transportation down and back. Alane was planning on going.

Originally I had no intention of going, I was busy at work. But then Pat asked if I wanted a week alone with Alane. To say that got my interest was an understatement, but I wasn't sure that Alane would want me along. Pat anticipated that, and had already asked Alane if she would be interested in sharing her hotel room with a man. According to Pat, Alane had said something like "Are you nuts? Of course I wouldn't mind!" Pat then asked her if that was still true if I was the guy. According to Pat, Alane had absolutely no problems with that. Suddenly I developed an interest in taking a week off work and going to San Diego for a puppetry convention!

That evening, or perhaps the next day, I ran into Alane. I made sure that she was still planning on going, then mentioned that Pat thought it might be interesting if the two of us went together. Her eyes lit up, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and I hugged her. We shared our first kiss. It wasn't more than a peck on the lips, but there was definitely a promise of more in the future. And that future would definitely begin in two days, in San Diego, if not sooner and closer to home. We were both looking forward to that.

We had to pack the sets and tools in the truck for the trip down to San Diego. That day the clouds decided to unleash about four inches of rain. By the time everything was tied down on the truck, everyone involved looked like a drowned rat. I was working in the shop, so was one of the very few that stayed dry. Pat and Alane came back into the shop, sheeting water everywhere. Fortunately they had spare clothes to change into, but that didn't help their completely soaked hair. They got the heat gun out of the tool closet and used it as a blow dryer for their hair. I recall Alane's golden blonde hair streaming out eighteen inches behind her head. As she was combing out her hair she looked at me and grinned. When she finished she came over to me and gave me a full-body hug and a kiss. When she pulled back, she glanced down at me and laughed about the front of my clothes all being soaked. Then she danced away to get changed. We were halfway to San Diego before my clothes mostly dried.

We talked for a few minutes about the mechanics of getting there and back. Her parents (she and her sister still lived at home) thought that she was going by herself. She wanted to go with me. So we both drove to my house and transferred her things into my car. We left her car in my garage.

We left about five in the afternoon for the trip to San Diego. Pat and Gary were in the truck, Alane and I followed behind in my car. Did I mention it had been raining? When we got to the freeway to San Diego, there were a couple of cops blocking the onramp. Gary stopped and asked why the road was blocked, they explained there had been a report that the road was flooded a couple of miles down. However, it was only supposed to be about 4 inches of water, so they flagged us through. We got rolling to San Diego.

About three miles along, the road went over a hill and down into a dip. No, down into a lake. It was standing or running water as far as we could see through the rain. We shifted down, and crept up to the water. It didn't look too deep, so we decided to keep going. The truck had about two feet of ground clearance. My car, on the other hand, only had about 8 inches to the door sills. As we plowed through the water, it got deeper and deeper. I was concerned that the water would go over the sills and leak under the doors onto the floor, ruining anything sitting there.. I asked Alane to lean over the back seat and move everything important from the floor to the back seat, since it might get flooded. Watching her do that would have provided a delightful distraction, but between heavy rain on the windshield and ever deepening water, I had to spend my time watching where we were going.

Fortunately the water never leaked under the doors, but it did get almost a foot deep. That was exciting driving. When we got there, there was mud on the side of the car an inch above the bottom of the doors.

After about two miles of driving, or really more swimming than driving, we were finally out of the water and had a clear road to San Diego. A really clear road - we were the only two vehicles on the freeway in either direction for the next 50 miles.

When we got to San Diego, we got off the freeway and wiggled through the downtown streets for several blocks until we got to the hotel. We got the vehicles parked and locked, and took our baggage and ourselves inside to check in. It was about eight in the evening.

Registering at the desk and getting a pair of room keys for my 'wife' and I was an interesting experience, to say the least. She was glued to my side, and looked radiantly like she had just been married, and this was our wedding night. Knowing that I was going to have Alane alone in a hotel room in about ten minutes was really giving my heart (and some lower parts of my body) a workout. She seemed excited too.

We got to our room and unpacked our things. Once we were unpacked, we had nothing to do except find something to do. We both knew what that 'something' was going to be. We looked at each other from where we were standing about six feet apart near the foot of the bed and smiled at each other. Her eyes glittered and the smile turned to a grin as we walked toward each other. She came into my arms (and I into hers). She put her arms around my neck, grabbed the back of my head and pulled me toward her, kissing me. I wasn't the slightest reluctant. It was fun to be in the arms of a gorgeous woman that knew what she wanted.

Our kiss started slowly and built over the next few minutes. By then she was standing on her right leg with her left leg wrapped around my hip and my back. I took advantage of her somewhat precarious perch, and slowly started to fall into the bed while holding her. We continued our kiss almost until we hit the mattress. I fell first so that she would end up on top. If anyone was going to get somewhat crushed, it would be me. Fortunately I was a strong enough guy that I didn't have to worry about that happening.

We resumed our interrupted kiss, but now our hands were free of the hug, and we started gently exploring each other's bodies. Over the next ten minutes or so we both touched anything we could reach, eliciting moans of pleasure. By then we had both decided that lying fully clothed in bed could be real nice, but lying in bed with a lot fewer clothes would be a lot nicer. I would long since have been undressing her, but as she was wearing a tight T-shirt and skin-tight jeans, it was difficult to do while we were both hugging, and she again had her leg thrown over my hip. We slowly broke our kiss, and were staring at each other from inches away. "I think our clothes are a little in the way."

She smiled. "Yes, we should probably do something about that." Then with a mischievous grin she resumed our kiss. It would be another ten minutes of rolling around on the bed before the kiss ended. Sometimes she was on top, sometimes I was on top, sometimes we were just lying facing each other and making out. I ended up on top when this kiss broke, with her legs wrapped around my waist and her ankles crossed behind me, bumping her heels on my ass, just to be sure I noticed. I did.

I smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "Ok, we need to do something about these clothes. Hang on." With that I got up from the bed with her clinging to me, arms around my neck and legs around my hips. Once I was standing with her in my arms she decided I needed another quick kiss, on my nose this time.

She unwrapped herself from me and stood, taking a step back so that I could see all of her. She smiled at me and pulled her T-shirt off over her head. Wow. Just wow. Her breasts were incredible, but her face and hair were also gorgeous, almost making it difficult to decide where to look. I started to move toward her, but she held up her hand. "Just watch." She had kicked off her shoes, and now unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, wiggling her hips (and her breasts) as she slowly pushed the pants down to her calves.

She fell onto the bed on her back, waved her feet at me and said "Pull." I grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked them off her, leaving me standing between her spread naked legs. I deliberately ran my eyes up her legs, up to her breasts, and after a deliberate pause, to her face. "Hum, very nice, but you are a little overdressed." I leaned forward and grabbed the waist of her panties and started to pull. She immediately raised her hips to make it easier.

I now had, one each, gorgeous tall blonde, in front of me. On her back, on a bed, with her legs spread wide, and I was looking at the Promised Land. A tuft of golden curls, and a lovely split between her legs. She spread her legs wider. A lot wider, and grabbed her ankles with her hands to hold herself spread, then rolled her hips back and forth. "Well, I'm ready, but don't you think you are a little overdressed?" I was indeed. It probably took me less than ten seconds to correct that oversight and reach a rapid meeting of the minds (and bodies) with her.

We continued necking for a few minutes, if "necking" includes two naked people rubbing against each other in all the fun places. She broke our kiss, smiled at me, and said "this is a lot of fun, but first things first." She leaned over to the table beside the bed, and grabbed something. It turned out to be a small package that she tore open. She grabbed the small jelly pill that came out, and curled her fingers over her sex. "Contraceptive, and lubricant. In ten minutes I'll do whatever you want. Until then, we can make out."

We did. And after the ten minutes were up, we discovered the plug really did fit in the socket. Very enjoyably so, for both of us. We practiced for the next two hours, just to be sure.

Time fades memories. I recall the trip and our first night together vividly. But after that, there are now gaps in my memory. I can recall certain scenes as though they just happened a moment ago, but I have no idea what happened five minutes before or a minute after. We had five more nights together, and the days in between. That time was filled with work during the day, relaxation with friends in the late evening, and a lot of fun together at night when we were alone. For that matter we had a lot of fun when we were alone any time of the day, even if it was just a few moments in public when nobody was looking. Or sometimes when we knew people were looking, and we wanted to give them a show. I have a lot of memories of the nights, and some of events during the days. But which memory comes first? I no longer remember, so I'll just present a series of scenes or vignettes from the rest of our stay.

We were in our room, and I said something that upset Alane. I didn't realize that at the time, I was (and still am) pretty socially inept. She excused herself off to the bathroom and I assumed for the normal reasons. After a few minutes I started to get concerned, wondering why she was taking so long. I waited a few minutes more, and walked over to the bathroom door (which was open) and asked her if she was OK. She was just sitting there, naked, on the toilet seat, using it as a chair. The frown cleared from her face after a moment, then her face lit up, and she bounded across the six feet between us and wrapped me in a big hug and a kiss. I had no idea how I'd earned that, but I was happy to reciprocate, and pretty soon we were cuddling on the bed in each other's arms. Finally she broke our kiss and said "Thank you! You are the first guy that ever showed that much concern", then we went back to kissing, and soon the other things that come with kissing while lying naked on a bed. I was very happy that she was happy, but I wondered what I'd done to upset her. I still wonder; I never found out.

On the first night, or maybe it was the second, Alane offered me her ass. This was a first for me. Of my limited selection of previous girlfriends, none had even considered that. Alane said she was happy to make the effort, but also said "I'm not so loose that I can just take anything up my ass, and you are pretty big." Well, I never thought of myself as "pretty big", but a couple of my previous girlfriends had remarked that it could be pretty uncomfortable if I was really deep into them. Maybe I was bigger than I thought. I know now that I was nowhere near in competition with the guys in porn. But there was no Internet Porn in those days. Heck, there was no Internet. It was years before I saw an erect penis other than my own, so I had no comparison. I still think I was about average, and the women were just being generous in their praise.

I had never done anal before. Heck, I had never had a 'birds and bees' lecture from my parents, and 'sex ed' classes wouldn't come into existence until I was long out of school. I had absolutely no idea how much lube was necessary. Alane knew it was needed, and had a handy tube of KY jelly. She told me to grease myself up, but for some reason (that I now think must have been extremely stupid) I was squeamish about doing it, and didn't use anywhere near enough lube. She hadn't lubed her own backdoor, and probably assumed that I knew enough to do that. But I didn't. We tried for a couple minutes to get me into her before she finally said "nope, too big", and we gave up. And that was that. The first, last, and only time someone offered me their ass. She probably would have been happy to try again if I'd ever brought it up. But I was too shy, or too stupid, or too uneducated in the ways of sex, (or all of those) so I never did. Fortunately, we were able to find another opening where I did fit.