The Crush

A day 3 weeks since my high school graduation sees me walking in the mall toward Barnes and Noble, my employer since I was 16. The part time job that I took during junior year is now a 40 hour work week, at least until I start college.

Approaching the book store, I spotted someone familiar from the past four years. Her very short blond hair, tank top, tattoos on her shoulder and a face devoid of makeup made Chelsea Long fit my image of the lesbian. Word around the school is that she lives with her partner and the two have a young daughter.

How do I deal with having a crush on Chelsea? I had known on a deep level since puberty that I like girls but kept that aspect of me hidden. Two very brief flings_ the first in 7th grade with Alan Kent, the other in 9th grade with Todd Leigh_ kept up an illusion of me being straight.

The fantasy of making love with the 26 year old English teacher/ gymnastics coach had started months before the last day of high school. Sitting in the classaroom I found myself unable to take my eyes off her. There had been the occasional brief fantasy of going down on her or she going down on me.

"Stephanie, how are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you doing?"

"Very well," she replied. She asked, "are you headed to college in the fall."

"I'm going to U Mass Amherst for nursing."


"Good choice," said Chelsea. "I'm about to change careers to paralegal."

"How did you pick that?"

"My brother Ron is a lawyer and my mom's a judge so I guess love of the law is in my blood."

"Are you starting in the fall?"

"Uh huh," she uttered.

"I like your tattoo."

She nodded.

The tattoo of crossed scissors confirmed the word around town.

I added, "I want one of girls kissing."

"You should get it."

"I'll see you around. I need to get to work."

As we headed off in opposite directions we both glanced backward. I want her. Chelsea I want you.

From behind register number three I peered at the sales floor seeing people looking at book shelves and others sitting reading. Transactions had taken place at the registers of my coworkers Anne and Carl. A dozen people had completed transactions at my register in the 8 hours since 2 o'clock.

Chelsea Long is living inside my head. I am no longer out of bounds for her.

My mother asked, "how was work."

"It was busy."

I would not mention the encounter with my former English teacher. Instead, I went upstairs to my bedroom.

Without hesitating I stripped off the off-white multi cold-shoulder blouse on top and my bra. I removed my Annie Klein Vita sandals putting them under my bed.

For a few seconds before stripping off my pants and panties my hands had a mind of their own brushing my nipples.

I stretched out naked face up on my bed. My clitoris swelled under the pressure from two fingers rubbing in circular motion. The outer labia opened.

Before long I could feel other signs of an impending orgasm: muscle tension, quivering legs, shallow breathing.

Chelsea I want you so much. I am no longer out of bounds. You know that.

About five minutes passed then cum streamed from my vulva ejecting my fingers from my vagina. As I lay huffing recuperating slowly I knew that I wanted to be anywhere with Chelsea Long.

The following day I sent her a friend request through Facebook. While waiting for a reply it occurred to me to call her attention to my Instagram. Chelsea Long I WANT you.

The thermometer registered 75 degrees at 7 a.m. that morning. I was running a favorite route keeping my body lean. My pony tail bounced with each stride as the Nikes smacked the concrete sidewalk. A gray sports bra supported my boobs. Deep Coal jogging shorts showed toned legs.

Winding roads pass single family homes, many of which are two floors high. Some have swimming pools. Dogs barked at the fence or passersby on the sidewalk.

Chelsea was not on my mind during the run that morning. Near end of the road where it connects to a much longer road I spotted her walking a dog on the opposite sidewalk.

"Chelsea," I shouted getting her attention.

"Stephanie Hi," she replied.

"I didn't know you live around here."

"I do," she replied.

I stopped to chat. The Labradore Retreiver sniifed my feet.

"Friendly dog," I said.

"Caitlyn, my partner, and I take turns walking her."

Shit, a partner.

"Have you guys been together a long time?"

"Two years ago at a lesbian bar," she replied.

Damn the hot ones are always taken.

"Catch you around," I said pining with unrequited love.

The cold shower washed away body odor but could not wash Chelsea out of my head. Pleasuring myself would make for a suspiciously long stay under the water.

I wore a floral bodycon off-the-shoulder style of dress that elicited a compliment from Anne.

"Thankyou," I replied with a closed-mouthed smile.

Her Pointelle turtleneck pink blush sweater had aesthetic appeal.

"I love your sweater. Where did you buy it?"

"Venus," she replied.

"Same place I bought this dress," I replied.

For the first time I got the impression that Carl is gay.

"That sweater is gorgeous."

"Thank you Carl. I wish my husband would notice things like that."

"It is," he added.

Later that morning after a few transactions I spotted a strawberry blond wearing a blue-striped off-the-shoulder top with blue cutoffs and block-healed sandals.

WOW she's fucking rub my clit hot. I do hope she's lesbian.

Minutes later she was approaching my register. I had to be all business though subconsciously I wanted her going down on me.

She pulled a card from her wallet.

"Credit or debit," I asked.

"Credit," she replied.

I bagged her book about horses. As she started to walk away I stole one more peek at her ass.