Be My Sailor: A Single Dad and Virgin Romance

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Be My Sailor: A Single Dad and Virgin Romance Page 26

by Lauren Wood


  “Of course I do.” He shrugged and pulled back his finger. My eyes sadly watched it go. “I’ve always liked you, Mollie. I just never had the nerve to say anything.”

  “You have?” I knew I was stammering, but I couldn’t help it. My head was swimming and my stomach was churning. Chase Richards likes me? Me?? Mollie the yearbook nerd?? Who knew??

  “So, come with me to the party?” he asked, holding out his hand. I put my hand in his and he brought my fingers to his lips and gave them a little kiss. I nearly wet my pants.

  He said, “If you don’t have a good time we’ll leave and I’ll take you right home. Or anywhere else you want to go.”

  “You will?” God, I must have sounded star struck.

  “I will.”

  I felt my head nodding. I heard myself say, “Okay, um, I’m in my mom’s car…”

  “That’s no problem. Why don’t you take the car home and I’ll pick you up there after I get all this mud and dirt off of me.”

  “You know where I live?”

  “Of course, silly. We used to ride the same bus until I got my license. Don’t you remember? I passed your house twice a day for years.”

  I did remember, but was shocked that he did. I just nodded like a total idiot and he leaned in and kissed my cheek, then scooped up his helmet and headed for the showers.

  I stood there in a daze, rubbing my cheek until nearly everyone had cleared the stands.

  I packed up the camera gear and lugged it out to my car. I had a stupid smile on my face that wouldn’t go away.

  Chase Richardson likes me.

  When did the world go insane?

  Chapter 5

  Chase

  “Hey, aren’t you Chase Richards?”

  I looked up to find the taxi driver who’d picked me up from the bus station staring at me in the rearview mirror. I slammed the door, blew out a long sigh, and said, “I used to be.”

  “Man, that was just awful, that wreck, I mean.”

  He hunched over the steering wheel as if he thought I might bring him bad luck, and shook his head. I heard him say it several more times as we sat waiting for a break in the traffic so we could pull out of the bus station parking lot.

  “Just freakin awful, man.”

  “Yeah, just freakin’ awful,” I said quietly, turning my eyes to look out the window. He didn’t say anything else as he pulled into the heavy afternoon traffic and took the interstate south out of Birmingham. I guess maneuvering the heavy traffic required all of his concentration. Thank God.

  After thirty minutes of stop and go traffic, we took the Centerville exit and ten minutes later we were on Main Street, ten minutes from my mom’s house on Fern Street.

  We passed my old high school and I immediately thought of Mollie. I remembered the first time I spoke to her. She was taking the football team picture for the yearbook and we were all clowning around like testosterone-infused idiots. The coach had to rein us in like little kids at a birthday party.

  I remember how serious she looked, fiddling with the camera and doing her best to be patient with us. When I smiled at her she frowned and quickly looked away. I still don’t know why, but I was immediately smitten. Maybe it was because she was so different from the other girls I was used to hanging around with.

  Mollie wouldn’t have been caught dead in a cheerleader uniform. She wasn’t a blonde bimbo who would blow me under the bleachers in the gym or let me shove my clumsy hands in her pants when we were making out by the lockers.

  Mollie was different. Mollie wasn’t a bad girl. She didn’t drink or do drugs or sneak out at night. And she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Maybe that’s what made me fall in love with her: her strength, determination, and independence. And those tits, oh man, those tits…

  Mollie had her whole future mapped out and knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be a teacher. She’d go to college, graduate, come back to Centerville, get a job at the middle school, find some nice guy and settle down and have a houseful of kids. For a long time, she thought that nice guy was me. Turned out I wasn’t such a nice guy after all.

  She was smart and funny and beautiful, with her curly red hair and freckles across her nose. She never wore makeup because she didn’t need it. She kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail most of the time because she said it had a mind of its own.

  She never wore short skirts or Daisy Dukes or halter tops or anything that showed off her body. I didn’t know just how rocking her body was until the first time I saw her naked; which was a few months after we started dating, the night of my last high school football game.

  She gave me her virginity that night and I gave her my heart. When I close my eyes and I can still see her lying next to me, naked in the warm night air, spread out on a sleeping bag in the bed of my dad’s old truck.

  Mollie had told me over and over that she intended to save herself for marriage, and I had every intention of honoring her wishes, I never pushed, but that night was special.

  We were leaving our teenage lives behind and heading to college in the fall. We were adults now, or soon would be. It was time we started acting like it.

  Mollie must have felt it, too, because she was the one who initiated the sex that night. We often parked by the lake and spread the sleeping bags out in the bed of my dad’s old truck. We’d lie back there for hours and make out till our lips gave out and stare up at the stars, making wishes and talking about our future.

  That night, Mollie pulled back from kissing me and, without a word, sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms.

  I couldn’t believe her tits. I’d touched them, but I had never seen them. They were full, round, milky white in the moonlight with pink areolas and thick nipples.

  She didn’t say a word. She just smiled at the shocked look on my face. She lay on her back and shimmied out of her jeans and panties, then told me to do the same. She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was out of my clothes before she could blink.

  I lay down beside her and started to caress her breasts as I kissed her full lips. Our tongues meeting seemed to bring a new spark. I swear, I could smell ozone in the air.

  I felt her hand go down my chest, across my stomach, and finally – FINALLY – her fingers closed around my cock, which was stiff as a board. She was a little clumsy at first, we both were, but soon she had her fingers sliding up and down, milking me as I sighed at her touch.

  I squeezed her full right breast and moved my mouth to her nipples. I suckled at her right nipple as my hand slid down to her pussy. I held my breath when my fingers reached the thick pubic hair above her clit. I’d learn later that her pubes were the same shade of red as the hair on her head. Yes, the carpet does match the drapes...

  I gently rubbed her clit with my thumb and she moaned in my ear. My fingers slid down to her pussy. She was soaking wet and hot to the touch. I gently slid a finger inside her and heard the breath catch in her throat.

  Her hand was pumping me, quicker, quicker. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. I looked into her eyes and asked, “Are we…”

  “Yes,” she said, sighing through her dreamy smile. “Just be gentle.”

  She never let go of me as I moved on top of her. She spread her legs wide and guided me into her opening. I slid in slowly, until I felt the resistance. Mollie bit her bottom lip and gave me a little nod.

  When I pushed through the thin veil of tissue protecting her virginity, she gave a little cry, but then put her hands on my hips to set the pace, guiding me back and forth inside her.

  Less than a minute later, we orgasmed for the first time together. It would be the first of many orgasms we’d share over the next two years.

  Mollie gave me the greatest gift a girl could give a boy that night. There was pain, a little blood, and a few tears, but in the end, there was pleasure, so much pleasure.

  When it was over, she kissed me deeply and simply said, “Love you.�
��

  The taxi hitting a pothole jarred me from my memories of that night. In the fall of that year we both went off to the University of Alabama, her as an education major and me majoring in football. My degree path was in physical education, but I majored in football.

  Mollie and I shared an apartment off campus, though our moms never knew that we were living together. They would have shit bricks had they known. Both our dads had died years before. I think that was another thing that helped bond us together.

  We were blissfully happy for two years, then I left college at the end of my sophomore year to enter the NFL draft. The Atlanta Falcons picked me up in the tenth round.

  We made love the night before I left for training camp in Atlanta. I rented us a room at the Airport Hilton so we could be together until the minute I stepped on the plane.

  I broke up with her over the phone just a couple of months later. I know, it was a dick move, but at that time, I was a dick; full-fledged and proud of it.

  That was two years ago now. I’m not so much of a dick anymore. I am just a pathetic asshole.

  And to my regret, I haven’t even spoken to Mollie since.

  Chapter 6

  Mollie

  I’ve never stopped thinking about Chase. In fact, not a day has gone by in the last two years that he hasn’t been on my mind. Sure, I’m still pissed at him, I mean, who wouldn’t be, for dumping me so unceremoniously after getting picked up in the NFL draft, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care what happens to him.

  I remember how my entire body ached as I watched the video of his wreck on the morning news a year ago. When I saw how mangled his car was my heart literally stopped in my chest.

  I held my breath, waiting for them to say whether he was dead or alive. When they said he was alive, but not expected to live, I nearly had a breakdown.

  I was getting ready for my first day as a third grade teacher at Centerville Elementary after getting my degree from Alabama the previous fall.

  After Chase had left college before his junior year, I thought about quitting, too. I called my mom and I was bawling. I came very close to just crawling back home to Centerville to lick my wounds. But my mom reminded me that just because Chase had chosen a different path didn’t mean I had to.

  I had wanted to be an elementary school teacher as long as I could remember, and to throw that away over “some guy” as she called him, would have been insane.

  “He’s not just some guy!” I remember screaming into the phone. “I love him! He has been my entire life since the tenth grade! We’ve been together four years!”

  As she always did when I went off on a hysterical rant, my mom listened quietly, softly told me it would be okay, then sternly told me to quit feeling sorry for myself and get to class.

  And that’s what I did. I woke up every day, washed away the tears I’d cried all night, and headed to class.

  Each day it got a little easier until finally, the tears stopped and the anger and resentment settled in. I knew that if I ever saw Chase Richards again the first thing he’d see was my fist coming at his nose.

  Anger is a wonderful medicine. It pushed me to stay in college and force Chase out of my mind. I got my degree in elementary education, and came home to find a job. I was lucky. Centerville is a small town and the third grade teacher at the elementary school was retiring. I slid right in to her spot and plan to keep it until the day I retire.

  I still think about him. It would be a lie to say that I didn’t. Especially today, with the news that he’s being released from rehab in Atlanta.

  The buzz around town is that he’s coming home. I haven’t spoken to his mom since before we broke up, so I don’t have a clue what his plans are.

  His mom always hated me, so there’s no way I’d even call to ask. And even if I did, she would probably just tell me to stay away from her son.

  I think she somehow blames me for Chase’s bad luck. Maybe she thinks if he hadn’t met me his life would have been different. Who knows.

  I glanced at the clock on the classroom wall with the smiley face and big hands. It was nearly four o’clock and the kids had gone home an hour ago.

  I sat at my desk trying to focus on the stack of papers I had to grade. It was no use. My thoughts were all on Chase. I put the cap on the red marker and tossed it aside. I put folded my arms on the desk and rested my forehead on them. I was always catnapping. With a toddler who kept me up at night and a fulltime job, I stole moments of sleep wherever I could get them.

  As I started to drift into that space between awake and asleep, my mind went back to the last time I’d seen Chase.

  It was in the hotel room he’d rented for us at the Airport Hilton. He had to catch a plane for Atlanta early the next morning and we wanted to spend every second we could together.

  It was a magical night of passion and abandon. Chase and I had been intimate many times since the night I gave him my virginity two years before, but we’d never spent the night in a hotel room before.

  It just seemed to fuel his desires and made me do things with him and to him that I had never done before.

  Or maybe I knew in the back of my mind that it would be our last time together and it had to be especially memorable.

  Either way, drifting off to doze there on my desk, I could feel Chase’s strong hands caressing my body.

  I could feel the stiffness and thickness of him in my hand.

  I could feel his fingers probing into me, gently at first, then harder, faster, longer.

  I could feel his lips and tongue…

  I could feel… everything.

  Chapter 7

  Mollie

  My dreams about Chase were always as vivid as my reality without him. In my dream, Chase was leading me down a long hallway to our hotel room at the Airport Hilton. We were like kids; giddy, playful, we couldn’t keep out hands off of one another.

  With me hanging on him, Chase opened the door and led me into the room. He was on fire, knowing that the next morning he’d be heading to Atlanta for a meeting with the Falcons.

  It was a formality, of course. The Falcons had made it public knowledge that they were going to draft the young standout quarterback from the University of Alabama and wouldn’t let any other team get in their way.

  Chase beamed: knowing that, if all went according to plan, he’d be drafted by the Falcons, become an immediate millionaire, and our life together would be set.

  We couldn’t wait to tear into one another like animals. I roughly tugged his Alabama jersey over his head and pushed him onto the bed.

  He put his hands behind his head and beamed at me. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on Chase’s frame. His muscles flexed and called to me. I couldn’t wait to run my tongue across his thick chest and perfectly-chiseled abs.

  I pulled my jersey over my head and slid out of my bra. My tits are not huge, but they are natural and more than a handful. I playfully cupped them in my hands and held them up for him to see. I ran my thumb over my nipple and we both moaned.

  Without getting off the bed, Chase lifted his butt and shimmied out of his sweat pants and boxer shorts. His cock was already full and stiff in anticipation of our lovemaking. When he lay back with his hands behind his head it stood up like the mast of a great ship I couldn’t wait to board.

  I pushed my sweat pants and panties down my legs and got on my knees at the the foot of the bed. I put my fingers around him, so long and thick and veiny. He moaned at my touch, which just made me even wetter. I slowly moved my hand up and down as I put my lips to the mushrooming head. I toyed with him for a minute, letting my tongue slither around the head, flicking little kisses up and down the shaft.

  “Come here,” I heard him say. I looked up with him still in my mouth and grinned. He was reaching for me. Wiggling his fingers.

  I straddled him, ready to ride him like a stallion. He put his hands on my hips and slowly lowered me onto him. As he entered me, I closed my eyes and held my breath. Then, when he
was at my opening, I opened my eyes and impaled myself on him. The sudden eruption of nerve endings sent shudders through my entire body. I heard the breath rush from Chase’s lungs.

  I put my hands on his chest and lowered my mouth to his. His lips were wet and warm. His tongue darted into my mouth and I sucked on it life a candy cane.

  Chase’s hands immediately went to my tits, as they always did. He loved the feel of my natural boobs and the thickness of my nipples. He kneaded my breasts as I set the pace, riding him up and down, lifting myself until I felt his tip at my opening, then sliding back down.

  I heard Chase moan and call my name. He grabbed my hips and started to drive me up and down on his long cock. I bit my lip and dug my fingers into his chest. Within seconds we came together, as we always did. I could feel him filling me with his hot cum. I felt my muscles milking him for every ounce he had.

  After a moment, I collapsed on top of him. We were a sweaty, gooey mess. And we had never been more in love. If you had told me then that just two months later Chase would break up with me over the phone I would have said you were insane.

  * * *

  I felt someone shaking me. I lifted my head off my arms and looked up to find the principal, Mrs. Campbell, gently shaking me. There was a kind smile on her wrinkled face.

  “Mollie, dear, you were sleeping at your desk again,” she said, moving to stand across the desk from me. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, wiping a bit of drool from my cheek. “Long night, last night. Tommy has an ear infection, so…”

  “Have you heard the news about Chase?” she asked, totally ignoring the news that my young son had an ear infection. She as an old busybody. She, like everyone else in town, knew about my past with Chase. Heck, how could she not know. We were the golden couple of Centerville for years.

  “I heard he was getting out of rehab,” I said.

  “Do you think he’ll come back home?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me as if she were trying to read my mind. It was a good thing she couldn’t read my mind. It would have cost me my job.

 

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