Sarah's Sexual Saga Ch. 02

Beware the Ides of March and Behold the Eyes of Megan

Hello and thank you so much for reading this. I want to thank Roftlheory Q and Phil Anderer for editing this story and highly recommend their works as well.

All persons discussed and described in any forms of sexual and or intimate terms are and were 18+ years old.

* * * * *

I couldn't wait to get out of the truck. The trip, under normal conditions would have taken us nearly four hours, but there had been a late winter storm that morning which had iced over the roads, making the otherwise long and boring trip perilous and even longer. We were in the sixth hour of the commute.

"This is so stupid!" I complained at a volume loud enough for me to hear myself over my Discman, which was far louder than I needed to be for my parents to hear me.

"Why would they have the Tournament here?"

"Take your headphones off if you're going to talk, Sarah. Stop yelling at us!" My mom reprimanded, in a tone that was significantly more on edge than normal. I couldn't blame her; I'd stopped counting the number of vehicles we had seen skidded off the road into the ditches, at twelve. There had been more. If it bothered my dad, he didn't show it.

I sighed and paused my CD. I was listening to 'If it Makes You Happy' by Sheryl Crow. "We should have hosted this tournament; we live almost dead center in the middle of the State. Jesus, this place is practically across State lines, I grumbled.

"Baby, we wouldn't have enough hotel rooms for this thing, or floor space in the gym. There's gonna be over a hundred kids here this weekend," my dad explained, in his matter-of-fact way. "This city is ten times the size of home."

My sister had gotten the movie 'Dirty Dancing' in 1989 and I watched it... a lot. My sister, who exaggerates, likes to tell people that I begged her to watch it every day that summer. As a result, now in my forties, everyone in my family is as likely to call me Baby as they are to call me Sarah; even my nieces call me Aunt Baby. My nephews don't, I think it makes them feel weird.

It was Friday, March 14th, 1997. I was an eighteen-year-old, high school senior. In the backseat of a Dodge Ram Crew Cab headed for the State Championship Powerlifting Meet.

At the time, Powerlifting was not an official women's sport, but several towns had one, sometimes two, girls that trained with the teams. Usually, we were allowed to participate at the meets if time permitted. We weren't awarded medals or trophies or anything like that, and even if there were other girls at the meet, they weren't always in the same weight class. At most we stood to win pats on the back... once or twice on the ass, or bragging rights.

There were some fringe benefits of sorts to being a female powerlifter, though. Most meets started fairly early which meant I was around a lot of beefed-up guys awash with teenage hormones. If I had a nickel for every time I was checked out by random guys at the meets back then, I would have retired on the compounded interest by now.

I know maybe I shouldn't have, but I loved it. It was one thing to feel their pervy glances, fucking me with their eyes, but several of these guys often wore Spandex singlets, and as such, I glimpsed my fair share of bulges. One of the other girls and I had joked about it before, she called it 'morning-wood' season.

I can't blame the poor guys. I was tall at 5'8", fit and perky, though thickly built on a broad frame, 36C-30-36, with golden blonde hair, blue eyes, and from what I have been told, a great smile.

It was dark before we finally arrived in town. My dad occasionally bought and sold cattle here, so he knew his way around fairly well.

We were all hungry, so we went to a steak house and ate a late dinner before we did anything else. It was fantastic; in particular, I recall they made the best, baked sweet potato I have ever eaten. I don't know what they did differently, maybe it was just my psyche celebrating life after the six-plus hours of driving down an icy road of doom, but man, it was an amazing sweet potato.

As we left the restaurant and approached the truck, my mom and I both groaned. We had had enough travel time for one day. Had it not been freezing cold we might have walked to the hotel.

"Ladies," my dad said flatly, "Its only gonna be another ten minutes to get there."

I watched the clock and a full fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the hotel parking lot. The clerk at the desk joked that we were so late, they were about to vacate our reservations. None of us laughed.

My dad had reserved two rooms, one for him and my mom and the other for me. The clerk gave us two key cards for each room, my parents each took one for their room and my mom, for some reason, took the extra key to mine. We carried our bags to our rooms, which were right next to each other.

My parents entered their rented space without issue and my mom was instantly setting up camp for the night. My keycard didn't work so my dad took it back down to the desk to get a replacement.

As I was standing at the door awkwardly holding my bags, I heard footfalls heading towards me. Assuming it was my dad I said, "Please tell me this one works!"

I looked up and saw an angel standing there; her beauty was blinding. Her hair was fine and dark brown. She had light brown skin and was only a few inches over five feet tall. She had a high, firm butt

and solid B-cup tits on a sylph frame. She was wearing a black tubetop that showed off her tight midriff and skin-tight, faded bluejeans.

In what felt like slow motion, she shot me a wide smile with deep dimples at the corners. Her most striking feature were her eyes, big and almond-shaped, but I couldn't decide if they were brown or green. Whatever their color was, they were enchanting. 'Green,' I decided.

She turned away from me and slid her keycard into the door across the hallway from mine.

"Oh wow!"

"What?" She said turning around to face me again as the door opened.

'Oh fuck! I said that out loud,' I screamed in my mind before sputtering out, "Uh, wow, I have been waiting for my dad come back with a new keycard for like, ever."

She smiled and nodded at me. It was then that I noticed her muscle tone, specifically her thick muscular quads. It dawned on me that she was almost certainly one of the other few girls that had been invited to participate in the State tournament.

My mom could have picked any time that night pop her head out of her door, and she chose right then.

"Sarah don't forget to wear your retainer to bed. Dr. Mesklin said that you haven't been wearing it as often as you should," my mom said, as though she had some kind of sixth-sense, animal instinct that compelled her to say the most embarrassing thing she could possibly say to me, at the most embarrassing time she could possibly say it.

"MOM! GOD!" I replied, mortified as I pictured just how red my face must have been at that moment.

Oblivious to my angst, she replied, "It's expensive, Baby... do you want the gap between your front teeth to come back?"

'Oh God, please kill me now,' I thought to myself as my mom's head disappeared back into the doorway from whence it came, its quest to embarrass the fuck out of me complete.

I turned back, hoping the other girl had vanished, but I was not that lucky. She stood there still smiling. 'No, I think they're brown eyes,' I thought.

My dad rounded the corner. He saw me and then his eyes moved to the other girl and lingered there just long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. If she noticed, she didn't react in anyway.

He handed me the new keycard, "Is there anything else you need tonight?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"Okay, I better get in there. Your mom has trouble sleeping in strange beds and there's only one sure-fire way to tire her out enough to get some shut-eye," he said with a big, broad smile. I could have gagged on the embarrassing sexual innuendo.

Again, I hoped that when I turned my head the other girl would be gone, and again she was still there, suppressing a giggle. Now her eyes looked decidedly green again. 'What wizardry is this?' I thought.

"That was my dad," I said lamely.

"Yeah," she said.

After a second of awkward silence, she entered her room and the door closed behind her.

I hung my head and entered my room, desperately seeking a dark place to disappear into.

I hit the shower, then dried my hair. As I exited the bathroom, I turned off the light and the fan went quiet. Then I heard something I couldn't quite identify coming from the other side of the wall that my room shared with my parents' room. It was mechanical sounding and rhythmic.

I wrapped myself in a towel while trying to figure out what that noise was. I grabbed my moisturizer from my bag but before I could do anything else, I heard a door open and close, and seconds later there was a knock at mine.

My mom would habitually come into my room to tell me one-last-thing, four or five times a night. Assuming it was her, I walked over and opened the door. As I was pulling the door open, I identified the noise. The sound was the rhythmic compression of bed springs... my parents were fucking. Which is why, instead of my mom, it was the girl from across the hall. Her eyes, now brown again, gravitated to my towel-wrapped torso.

"I'm sorry!" I blurted out, "I thought you were my mom coming to tell me to floss my teeth or something."

"Oh, it's cool," she said. Just then, from the other side of the shared wall, loud enough that it couldn't be mistaken for anything else:

"Oh GAAWWD, Alan!" my mom groaned out lewdly, her voice muffled through the wall.

"Of course." I said accepting that my humiliating fate was to win the night.

The other girl's gaze moved from my covered tits to the moaning wall, and then up to my eyes.

"I was going to tell you there are a couple of guys that are throwing a party in their hotel room, and I thought you might want to come. I have a feeling there aren't going to be any girls there and I would prefer not to be the only one... and you seem like you might need to get out of here for a bit," she explained, with a knowing look.

"Oh... God, yes, please," I said.

She turned her back while I quickly threw on a button-down top with pink and yellow lemon print and a bat collar, a pair of bell-bottoms, which were making a comeback at the time, and tennis shoes.

I was looking in the mirror dawning and doffing my Lisa Loeb-style glasses. "What do you think?" I asked, "Glasses, or no?"

The other girl opened her mouth to respond-

"OH GAAWD, I'm so close!" My mom roared from the other room.

Cringing, I put the glasses down, grabbed my keycard and we quickly left the room.

"I'm Megan," she said leading the way to the party.

"Sarah," I reciprocated.

"Yeah, I know," she said giving me a look; her eyes were definitely green.

"How do you know my name?" I asked.

"Your mom called you 'Sarah' when she reminded you to wear your retainer," she said, matter-of-factly.

"So embarrassing," I sighed.

"Well, it's kind of what parents do though, right?' she asked rhetorically, and after a pause she added, "I mean at least it sounded like your dad was really good."

"I am trying to suppress that memory," I complained.

"Your mom isn't," she laughed.

Mercifully we heard the harmonica of 'Run Around' by Blues Traveler spilling out into the hallway and she knocked on the door. A beefed-up dude with excessive acne opened the door.

"YES!" he said holding the door open and gesturing for us to come in. "Finally, some chicks in this bee-atch!" he said high-fiving one of the other guys in the room.

Megan turned her head to me, smiled and then mouthed the words, 'All guys here,' Her eyes had switched once more to brown.

'What is the deal with this chick's eyes?' I pondered, 'It's like the tell-tale of some X-Files monster-of-the-week.'

The room was lit by a lamp in one corner, it smelled of too much of every variant of Axe Body Spray, with the slightest hint of beer. The bed in the room had been moved up against a wall and there were, if memory serves, ten maybe even a dozen different guys in the room, some decent looking, some not so much, all of whom took a long moment taking in the sweet, girl meat that had entered the room.

Two of the guys seemed to be manning the CD player debating what to play next and another was hanging out by a cooler from which he promptly produced two Keystone Lights, one for each of us. "Ladies drink for free," he smiled magnanimously.

Introductions were made... names, where we were all from, and so on. The room consisted entirely of seniors, kids without a doubt, but none of us were minors any longer. We were each the temporary kings and queens of our schools' hallways, on the cusp of having to leave that security for the uncertainties and unfamiliarity of adulthood. We were on top of the world and anxious about the future all at once.

On that night, the Ides of March, we, the last graduating class comprised entirely of Generation X-ers, in the immortality of youth, partied like it was 1999. We rocked out to the epic jams of the late 1980s and 90s.

Megan and I danced, surrounded by gawky, muscular guys, grinding against us, most of whom really weren't built for moving around a room to music. What was lacking in rhythm and fully integrated bodily co-ordination was made up for with exuberance, bolstered by the veil afforded by the dim lighting and alcohol-lowered inhibitions.

Now and again, she and I would meet in the center of the horned-up guys, and we would put on a show, dancing and grinding on each other to the ecstatic cheers of the party's Y-chromosomed attendees.

I had long known I was physically attracted to women as well as men, but I had never been afforded the opportunity to experience physical intimacy with another girl. Small towns are in many ways great places to live and grow up, but group-think and social norms are strictly enforced in them. Experimenting with another girl would have been a terrifying risk to take and the social backlash of it becoming known would have been harsh.

Nonetheless, in the low light, accompanied by the timeless sounds of the 1990s, my heart was thudding like a hammer in my chest as this exotic minx and I rhythmically pressed as much of our bodies as we could manage, against as much of the other's body as possible.

In fear of betraying my sexually escalated state, I would turn away to a different guy for a song or two only to reunite with her once again. It was as though some sentient, gravitational force abhorred the thought of space existing between us.

I was always fairly confident about my physical attractiveness, sometimes I worried about my weight, sure, but that night... I felt like I was hotter than a five-alarm fire. The attention from those guys bolstered my confidence tremendously, but sexual attraction from guys, was a dime a dozen, the sexual tension between Megan and I was foreign and exotic, and I had no idea if I would ever experience it with another woman ever again. Combined they made for a rare, perfect experience where a baker's dozen of eighteen-year-old kids in a hotel room in an obscure and relatively small town, were the still point of the turning world.

Megan and I again came to one another, and the boys went wild. One of them shouted above the music, "Kiss!"

We made eye contact, now her eyes seemed green again. Within seconds the room began to chant, "Kiss!... Kiss!... Kiss!... Kiss!..."

Neither of us said a word or nodded, there was no motion from either of us, but entirely through eye contact and body language we communicated with each other, 'Kiss!... Kiss!... Kiss!... Kiss!...'

Her arms came up around my neck and mine wrapped around her torso. I slid them over and then down her firm ass, stopping just under her cheeks and hoisted her off her feet. I felt her warm breath on my neck. I walked her over to the room's TV countertop where I sat her down and we kissed.

The room erupted in cheers and if ever there was a kiss that should have been cheered for, that was the one, it was deserving. I have always loved kissing. It is hard to say if it was the best kiss I have ever had -- nostalgia has a way of making colors brighter, smiles prettier, melodies sweeter and laughs louder; I know this, but it was without a doubt the best kiss I had ever had to that point.

There were tongues but they were gentle. It was long, like a conversion outside, under the porch light at the end of a first date that you don't want to end. It was soft like velvet. It was moist but not obscenely wet. It was done in innocence and done with passion. It was done for the cheering crowd of teenagers, it was done for each other, and it was done out of selfishness.

My hands were at her hips, and she moved her hands up to the side of my head and she gently ran her fingers along the curves of my earlobes. I felt myself shudder. I don't know why, but in a break from kissing, I rubbed my nose against hers back and forth for few seconds. The room went silent for this and then I went back in for another kiss. The guys went nuts again.

Our moment ended abruptly with a loud, repeated, thudding at the door. The music died instantly, and hilariously, inept attempts were made to hide the dozens of empty beer cans strewn about the room. Megan slid off the countertop.

When the door was opened, there stood a guy who was probably older than the rest of us by less than three years and was a dead ringer for a slightly less masculine version of David Spade. He was wearing a uniform that made it obvious that he worked for the hotel, and maybe my mind has created this detail over the two decades plus that have come and gone since it happened, but I swear his name tag said 'Dave'.

"We're getting noise complaints! It's midnight guys! Whatever this is, it was, and it is no longer," he said both meekly and authoritatively at once, it was amazing really. "Wrap it up or the police will be called, and I don't think that's what any of you want."

At that, the various guys dispersed to wherever it is that they were destined to go. I am sure that I may have said hello or maybe even gave a hug or two to some of those guys the next day, but I honestly couldn't swear that I ever interacted with any of them ever again. I wish I could remember the names of the men in that room; I wish I could look them up on social media and see where their lives have taken them. I wish I could thank them for how sexy, and amazing, and desirable they made me feel. I wish that I could thank them for that night, and I hope that from time to time they reminisce on that night, grinding up against two random women, watching us kiss. I hope that it means to them now, what it means to me now and that they masturbate fervently to the memory.

While this would have been one of the most amazing nights of my life if I had just gone to bed at that time, my night was really just beginning...

Megan and I entered the hallway, 'Dave' was heading in the opposite direction from where we needed to go to get to our rooms.

I grabbed Megan's hand, "Hey, do you want to go skinny dipping?"

Her eyes, fucking brown this time, dilated in excitement before her face was awash in disappointment, "They lock the pool at 10pm," she said, disappointedly.

"Well, I wouldn't want to go skinny dipping if it were standard operating hours, do you want to go skinny dipping?" I repeated.

She nodded in reply.

"Okay, just follow my lead," I said, as I pulled her by the hand in the opposite direction, "Dave! Wait up!" I hollered at a decibel loud enough for Dave to hear, while still being as respectful as possible to the renters at that hour of night.