tagRomanceI Thought She Made You Up Ch. 01

I Thought She Made You Up Ch. 01


Another memory, altered to be entertaining, I hope. I already have part two done and will be posting it soon


I saw her from across the room, a ghost from my past. Gently disengaging from the group I was chatting with, I moved to her side and touched her lightly on the arm.

"CeCe, is it really you?"

She looked at me quickly, smiling as recognition came.

"Looney! My gosh, it's been twenty five years! How are you?"

People were turning to see who I was talking to.

"Yes, CeCe, it's me. Nobody's called me Looney in years, though. It brings back good memories."

She had taken my hand and hadn't let go. People were suddenly very interested, I was well known here. Pulling her gently along we came to a couch and sat down.

"A lot of memories for me as well. Did your life go as you plan? Did you get the rich husband and houseful of kids you wanted? Is that why you're here? Bringing another legacy to your old school?"

I was smiling, but I guess some of my questions brought back some old pain.

She looked uncomfortable for just a second and then spoke.

"Yes and no. Yes and no, and yes. My life pretty much went to plan until last year. I did get the rich husband and had four kids. That's why I'm here, My second child, Marie, will be a freshman this year. Then last year my husband traded me in for a newer model. We've been divorced for about six months now. I can't complain, he was very generous. I can't even say I didn't see it coming, and realistically I wasn't too upset when it ended. We had twenty years of happiness, eight of comfort, and two of indifference. But enough about me. When we parted I came back home.

Do you have a child here also? Is that why you're here?"

We were at a meet and greet for parents of new students. Sort of a way to reassure them they weren't wasting the enormous amount of money it took to put a child trough college. I did have a daughter here, but that's not why I was there. I was actually dean of my department.

I sort of told a half truth. There were reasons, reasons that went back 30 years.

"Yes, my youngest is here, an art major. Not very practical, but she loves it."

We talked for about thirty minutes. Just before I left to mingle just a bit more I asked if I could take her picture. I was still in contact with some of our old friends. I showed her some pictures I had of some of them. She was nodding along making comments.

"I can't believe he went bald! That can't be her real hair color. Her husband looks handsome. Oh my, is that really Amy? She looks almost like she did thirty years a go. Some of us sure aged gracefully. What's she doing now? Is she married, any kids?"

Again, I didn't tell the whole truth.

"Yes, she been married twenty nine years to the same guy. Two kids, boy and girl. She became a teacher, still works in the local school system. I think she's happy, but who knows for sure. I know her husband can be a bit irritating at times."

She gave me a card with her numbers on it.

"When you see here, give her this. I'd love to see her again. And yes, you can take my picture. But loon-I means James, be kind when you talk about me. I know how I look-"

I stopped her. "You look great. Besides, I still see you as a twenty year old, your hair in that french braid you liked so much, that great rack, and tight jeans."

She laughed but had tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Looney, I hated that braid. I wore it that way for you. I haven't been in jeans for years. I don't think they would look so good on me now."

She had always been a big girl. In college she had weighed about 170, but she was almost six feet tall so she carried it well. Now, if I had to guess, I would say she had gained a hundred pounds, at least. She still carried it well, she had always had presence.

I hugged and kissed her goodbye, again watched by the whole room. I mingled a bit more, fulfilled my obligations and headed for the door. She was leaving as well.

She had a young girl by the hand. She was almost a carbon copy of her at twenty.

"This must be your daughter. You can't deny those genetics."

I shook her hand as CeCe introduced her.

She introduced me as am old friend from school, asking her if she remembered her talking about me, the one she called Looney. Her mouth flew open.

As I turned to put on my jacket she had one more comment.

"Do you still have that old Sportster? Still got the tattoo?"

"Believe it or not, I still do. Hardly ever ride it though. Got a nice Ultraglide I ride when it's fit weather. You remember what the winters are like up here. The tats still there, but awfully faded now. Goodnight, CeCe."

I got my SUV and drove home to my wife. I definitely had a tale for her.


It was 1982. I was twenty-one, single, and having a good time. I dated and bedded women, but had not found 'the one'. To be honest, I wasn't really looking either.

I had a good job that I enjoyed. It paid well, so I was able to indulge myself with a few toys. My pride and joy was a 1975 Sportster. It was fully chopped, with a twisted girder front end, nine inches over stock. Five spoke mags and American Eagle white letter tires, rectangular headlights, teardrop gas tank, and a gleaming black paint job. I kept it spotless. It was a girl magnet.

I knew as good as my job was I didn't want to be a factory worker for the rest of my life, so I took night classes at the local community college. I got an associate degree in three years going part time. After graduation I looked around but couldn't find anything better than what I had so I stayed put, working overtime and trying to save money. I had a vague plan to save enough to quit and finish my four year degree at a good college.


There was an old fashioned dance hall in my county

that had been in operation for as long as I could remember. Alcohol laws were strange in my mid southern state. This was a dry county, so the place couldn't sell beer or liquor. It did have a 'brown bag' permit, where you could bring your own. Liquor could be on the table and you bought mixers from the club. If you had beer, it was labeled and put into a cooler and you were charged twenty five cents a can for 'cooling fees'. Anywhere alcohol flowed there was a chance folks could get rowdy, so they kept an off duty deputy, still in uniform, as security. It had been the same guy for thirty years. He was now in his early sixties and was strictly a reserve officer, used for such things as directing traffic during major county events.

It also had one of the best grills in the area, and one of my first jobs as a teen was as a busboy and short order cook. It was an education I would have never gotten working at a pizza place or teen burger joint. You got to see and hear a lot cleaning the tables in the hall. Drunk women would make comments or rub body parts while their men would have a good laugh. If they knew how many serious offers I got they wouldn't have laughed nearly as hard. I wasn't really a virgin, but two brief encounters on the backseat in the dark were the extent of my experience.

My sexual education began in earnest when I was eighteen. One night the owner came to me and asked a favor. One of his regular couples had too much to drink and needed to be driven home. Another couple had ridden with them and the wife was to be the driver, but they had met friends and left them. The deputy wouldn't let them get behind the wheel and I was the solution.

My parents were friends with the owners, that's how I got the job. I usually didn't get home until one thirty in the morning and my mom almost always stayed up, sleeping on the couch, until I got home. I would wake her, and knowing I was home safe, go in to bed. I knew if I took them home it would be after three before I in.

It was just before midnight and my boss said if I would take them now he would pay me my full time and I would still get home almost on time. He also said he would tell my parents about it the next day. Well, I knew they had an almost brand new Lincoln Town Car, and I would probably never get another chance to drive a car that nice, so I agreed.

Barb was in her middle thirties and attractive in a hard sort of way. Her husband Bob was in his late fifties and owned the local Ford dealership. I guess you would call her a trophy wife.

We pretty much poured Bob into the backseat. Barb got into the front because she didn't want a drunk flopping all over her for 45 minutes. She sounded pretty angry when she said that. We had just hit the interstate when she began to talk to me.

She didn't like her life. Oh, they were rich, she got every thing she wanted but affection. Once Bob married her he pretty much ignored her. If she hadn't told him to take her out at least once a week or she would get someone else to she wouldn't even get to dance. She told me she wanted to go to some of the upscale clubs, gosh knows they could afford it, but he was in a rut and the little dance hall suited him just fine.

She slid over next to me. She started to rub my arm and ask questions.

"Enough about me. You got a little girlfriend, James?"

I grinned. You don't get much of a love life if you work until the wee hours on the weekend. If I went out on dates it was usually on Sundays. It actually worked out well for me, by Sunday most guys were broke and done dating for the week. I was presentable, had a car, and didn't mind spending a little. I could have something lined up every week if I wanted. Usually, I wanted.

"Nobody steady, ma'am. My schedule puts a crimp on that. I do date. just don't have the time for anything serious."

She grinned. "So then, ever show one of them how big the backseat is?"

I was getting nervous.

"I don't feel comfortable talking about that, Mrs. Jones."

"Relax baby, I like you don't kiss and tell. By not telling you told me a lot. I was a horny teen girl once. If boys were worse than girls it must be awful. And call me Barb, Mrs. Jones makes me feel really old."

Her soft voice took any sting out of the conversation.

"Turn left here. It's the third driveway on the left."

These days it would have been called a McMansion. A huge house on a small lot in a brand new subdivision. It was two stories with a basement, built into a sloping yard. We parked outside the basement and between both of us we got him into the house. The basement was the party room. A small bar, a pool table, a poker table, party lights, a couch and some occasional chairs. We got him to the couch, He was a big guy and we knew we would never get him upstairs. She took off his shoes, loosened his belt, and covered him with a blanket.

"He'll be fine. If he wakes he'll come to bed, but I'll probably have to come get him in the morning. Come upstairs for a second. I'll make some coffee."

I didn't plan on staying.

"Barb, I need to get back to my car. I'll just leave. The keys will be on the counter of the club when you come to get your car."

That didn't fly.

"Oh no. Bob would kill me if I left his car in a parking lot overnight. I'm not drunk, I just needed someone to help me get him inside. He's a bitch if he wakes up on the backseat. Let me wash my warpaint off and we'll go."

Well, I was stuck. And the boss did say he would explain it to my parents if I was late.

She had a great kitchen. Setting up the coffee pot she excused herself. She came back in ten minutes.

Gone were the makeup and party dress. She had on a simple sun dress and sandals. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked younger, softer. I couldn't help it.

"You look great! Why don't you wear something like that when you go out?"

She beamed at the compliment.

"You'll understand why a woman likes to dress up when you're a little older. Plus, I have to project a certain image for Bob. Pour us a coffee, I have some cake around here somewhere."

She got out a pound cake. We drank and joked around for about 20 minutes. I didn't realize it at the time but we were actually flirting. Finally she got the keys and handed them to me.

"Drive back, please. I'm not drunk but I have been drinking. I'll be alright by the time we get there."

Again she slid over to me. As soon as we hit the interstate she starting flirting again.

"Ever have any naughty thoughts about me? I know I do about you every time you bend over our table. You know you got a cute butt?"

I couldn't help but grin.

"No, I didn't but thanks for the compliment. And yes I do have fantasies about you. You're the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

I caught a glimpse of her in the mirror. She was almost leering.

"Too bad you're not a virgin, that was one of my fantasies. Tell me hon, do you ever think of me while you're, you know, relieving some tension?"

She had reached down and was gently stroking me.

I should have stopped her, but I was seventeen, a raging mass of hormones, and this was my dream woman.

"Often." was all I could get out in a strangled voice.

"Well baby, you know what's better than fantasy?"

She was leering now. I couldn't speak, I just shook my head no.


She had me unzipped by then, had me out. No teen age boy alive hasn't measured his dick at least once. I was six and three quarters, pretty respectable according to the two girls I had in my back seat. I felt hard enough to drive ten penny nails through a two by four.

"Oh my! You really are a growing boy."

I reached down in a feeble attempt to stop her but she grabbed my hand and put it back on the wheel.

"Uh Uh. baby, hands on the wheel for safety. Just drive, I'll take care of everything else."

Her mouth felt like...I had nothing to compare it to. It felt great. She would nibble, lick, them slam all the way down. I was going crazy.

The faster she went, the faster I drove. When we got to the exit we were supposed to take I was doing 110. It was ten miles before the next exit and I could turn around. I was ready to explode.

I tried to warn her.

"Barb! I'm gonna, I'm gonna, ohhhhhhhh."

I exploded in her mouth. Honest, that what it felt like. I felt like I had blown the first two inches of my dick off.

She never slowed down, swallowing it all. After about two minutes she came up for air.

"You really are young and full of cum, aren't you?"

She was slowly stroking me. I was seventeen, I didn't go soft.

"I can't believe it? More, so soon? Alright baby, tell me when we get to the parking lot."

She went right back down, but licked slowly, lazily, sliding down on me once in a while with the speed of a glacier. I thought I would go crazy with the sensations. Soon we were in the parking lot.

"Barb, we're here."

She kissed me once more before raising up to jam her tongue down my throat. I didn't care where that mouth had been, her tongue felt great.

After a minute or two she stopped and told me I could touch her if I wanted. Boy, did I wanted.

I rubbed her hair, her shoulders, slid my hand down the side of her dress. She stopped and got out of the car. I thought I had messed up.

"This is taking too long. Remember, you're on a deadline." She told me as she slipped the dress off over her head. Of course, she was naked underneath. She hopped back in the car.

"Not too rough, lover, don't leave marks."

I tried to be gentle, really. But in fifteen minutes we were stressing the hell out of the shocks on that town car. She was squealing, moaning, thrashing around, even let out a respectable scream when she had her fourth orgasm.

This time I went numb when I came. We both lay there gasping for breath. she finally pushed me off.

"Damn, that was mind blowing for just a straight fuck! After I get done training you the little girls are gonna love you. Now unlock the door so I can clean up."

I sometimes had to come in early for food service deliveries, so the owners gave me a key to the grill. She didn't bother to put her dress on. In the light she looked even better. I was starting to get hard again. She noticed.

"Down, boy! If we had time...but we don't. I'll see you next week."

She cleaned up, gave me a kiss while she was still nude.

"Clean up, your momma will know something was up if you come home smelling like pussy. And give me some air freshener to spray in the car. I'll get up early and have it detailed. If Bob asks I'll tell him I had to because he puked in it. It's happened before. Bye, baby."

Well, I did clean up and got home about three-thirty. Mom was a little upset when I woke her up. I told her Mr. Williams[my boss] would verify where I was and explained about taking the Jones home.

"You're such a nice boy" she said hugging me.

I slept the sleep of the dead.


Barb had me take them home the next week and about every other week after that. She was tired of getting fucked in the car so she came up with a plan.

"Jimmy, would you like to make a little extra money? If you do we need someone to mow our lawn, our guy just quit. We got a riding mower and the rest of the equipment. Of course, you'll have to do it on Saturday afternoons, while Bob plays golf. He has allergies, isn't that right honey?"

Bob looked bored.

"Whatever you want, dear."

The next Saturday I was there at noon, when Bob left. He usually played eighteen holes and had a few drinks with his cronies. Sometimes he played a little poker in the club room. He was a cheap bastard. He would give me a ten and a lecture about doing a good job. Barb always gave me another twenty. And I made damn sure I did a good job every time.

Like I said, they had a small yard. I could mow, trim, and edge in ninety minutes, If Barb would leave me alone. She had a habit of standing in front of the patio door in the basement watching me. Every time I made a round she would either flash me or lose an article of clothing. It made it hard to mow in a straight line. I would have to back track and smooth it up. As soon as she figured out it was costing her play time she stopped. I always made sure I was done before we played.

It became standard procedure for us to shower together before and after. I would bring clothes and go straight from there to work at the grill.

She taught me, well she taught me everything. Everything except anal. She was adamant. No one was ever driving up her dirt road.

She taught me how to do oral. It was the first thing we did to each other after the shower.

"Practice, baby, makes perfect. You can make up for a lot if you're a good pussy eater. Not that you have anything to make up for. The girl that gets you after you're trained should make sacrifices to the love gods every time your tongue hits her clit."

Did I fell bad for Bob? A little, but like I said, I was seventeen and getting steady sex. I got over it.

We almost got caught once. It started raining and instead of hanging around the bar Bob came home.

Luckily we had just started out shower and she was getting extra towels when she saw him drive up. We never did it in their bedroom, she said she just wasn't that much of a slut. We were in the guest bathroom. She yelled at me to stay in the shower, slipped on a sun dress and went out in the drive to hug him. It was pouring rain so he didn't know she was already wet.

He fussed at her for getting wet. They talked for a minute before he asked where I was. He knew I was still there because my car was still in the drive.

"He's in the shower in the guest room. He has to go straight from here to his other job, so he brings a change of clothes and dresses here. Remember we talked about that. You said it was o k if he didn't make a mess."

She hadn't talked to him about that but alcohol makes your memory suspect. He just grunted.

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