High School Lover

by Rose Croft

  A tear streamed down her cheek, and her mouth quivered. “I never stopped thinking about you. I tried to move on, too, but no one was ever you. No one will ever be you.” Then, she did something I never expected; she placed her hand over her heart. “This only beats for you, Andrew. Always has. Only you.”

  At that moment, I didn’t give a shit if I was moving too fast. To me the moment was perfect. I gripped her head, crushing her lips, drinking her in like I would die without tasting her. She moaned, wrapping her hands around my neck. Our tongues lashed together in desperation as I pulled her onto my lap. “Don’t you know how much you mean to me?” I slid my mouth down the curve of her neck, sucking and biting, a primal act of someone with an insatiable hunger. Marking her mine, always. “Don’t you feel how much I want you, baby?”

  Her nails dug into my shoulders, and her legs clamped my waist in a vise-like grip. “Andrew.” Her sigh was a seductive caress on my skin, on my heart.

  I wanted her so damn bad and if my dick had hands, he would’ve already undone my pants. “I need you now. I need to be inside you. Feel you.”

  “I want that, too.” She cupped my cheeks, drawing an imaginary line over my nose and cheekbones with her thumbs, studying my face as though seeing me for the first time. “You’re so beautiful. Tell me this is real.”

  “It is.” God, I loved this woman. Always have. I easily lifted us up off the couch and started down the hall with her. I hoped I was going in the right direction as she nuzzled my neck. I was, because I saw the picture I’d given her several years before, framed on the wall just as she’d said. All the pieces she gave of herself from the past and the present were weaving together like a tapestry, and I couldn’t wait to create more memories with her.

  I set her down on the edge of the bed and kneeled between her legs, running my hands up her sides until I met the slope of her breasts. She hesitated but slowly pulled down her dress, revealing a strapless bra, which soon fell away. I stared at her gorgeous tits, which were bigger than I’d remembered from high school. I knew I wasn’t imagining that. I had a photographic memory when it came to her. “Your boobs look bigger.” I wasn’t complaining. They were exquisite.

  She lifted her lips in a half-smile. “Still as observant as ever, Mr. McKeon. For your information, I had a growth spurt in college.”

  I lifted them in my hands like they were something rare to be treated with care and ran my thumbs over her rock-hard nipples. “They’re perky and perfect, just like you.”

  I leaned in and took her rosy, budded nipple in my mouth, and she groaned as she threaded her fingers through my hair. I trailed my hands down her stomach to her thighs, spreading them wider. I slipped my fingers under the hem of her dress and felt the dampness on her panties as I strummed over her clit. “God yes, Andrew, touch me.” Loren pulled me tighter against her until my face was lodged in her cleavage.

  “I will.” My voice was muffled against her satiny skin. I wanted to rip off her clothes and dive into her and never come out, but I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment that had been too long in the making. I was going to cherish this, as I cherished her. I gently dislodged her hands from my head. I tugged her dress down until it slipped over her knees and dropped it to the floor. I hooked her panties and pulled them down, too, and nudged her back until she was reclined on the bed. And, holy fucking shit. Regardless of dating a super model, and seeing several women who worked out continually, and nipped and tucked everything to achieve perfection in their naked glory, nothing, and I mean nothing was as precious, as freaking divine, as bewitching as my Scout. Not a single thing. Ever.

  I stared at her, taking in every single piece of her. Committing her to memory. I couldn’t count how many times I’d thought about her, remembered everything about her in the past. Hell, I almost thought I was having another fantasy right now, but I touched her thigh to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

  I crawled over her as her hands fumbled with the button and zipper of my jeans. I kissed her lips as she freed my cock from my underwear. She gasped and my dick screamed hallelujah as he quickly snaked his way to Loren’s pussy. The tip of my cock was touching her clit. I slid it up and down over the slick smoothness. I almost cried out in a high-pitched voice, but I pulled my shit together. We both ground against each other like we were teenagers dry-humping in my old bedroom years ago.

  Loren jerked my shirt over my head and ogled my chest. “Good God, Andrew, are you human?”

  I kissed her, taking it as a compliment. I continued to grind against her as my dick found her warm, wet entrance like a heat-seeking missile. She clasped her legs around me, digging her heels into my ass, and my cock sank into her, passing the threshold. I hissed because nothing had ever felt this good, and it was just the tip…of the iceberg. The further I slipped in, I thought I might start weeping with joy. I pushed on until my balls touched her skin. Was I even breathing? I didn’t know. I think I was, because a growl rumbled in my throat, and I thrust a few times, already thinking this was the best sexual experience I’d had since I’d been with her before.

  However, a small part of my brain reminded me I hadn’t worn protection. I cursed that part of my brain but I stopped. For a split second I contemplated not mentioning it and continuing, because the feelings left me without words or thought, which was stupid and irresponsible. At the moment, however, I wasn’t feeling rational. Was I ever with her?

  Loren’s eyes were closed and she kept rocking against me. Finally, she must have realized I wasn’t moving. “What’s wrong?” she rushed out with brows drawn together. Her breath was heavy.

  My dick and I were thinking about a fucking hostile takeover of my brain. However, I knew the right thing to do. Fuck you, brain. “I’m not wearing a condom.” I wasn’t exactly in any hurry to pull out and get one, either. My dick was begging, pleading with me to stay put. Actually, he was pushing forward. I had to restrain him.

  “You don’t need one.” She dragged my head down and kissed me as she rocked against my cock, pulling me in even deeper. I could feel a tingling beginning in my balls as if to tell me to shut up and go with the flow. My dick and balls had formed a strong alliance. How could I fight that?

  “Are you sure?” I asked against her lips, but I thrust myself into her deeper. And, at that point it seemed like we both took it as a rhetorical question, neither one answering as we both resumed our moaning, wanting to be as close to each other as physically possible.

  “Andrew, it feels so gooooood.” She mewled as her hands tightened over my biceps. Her face was so fucking expressive when I was driving her to the brink.

  I went deeper, harder, over and over, wanting to get lost in her and never be found. This was my heaven, my nirvana, my home—she was everything. Soon I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. “Fuck, Loren. I’m about to come. You about there?” I guess I should be embarrassed that I was about to blow in under five minutes, but damn it’d been too long.

  “Uuuuuuhhhhhh-huuuuuuhhhhh!” Her face scrunched up in agony and sweat glistened at her temples. My arms were going to be decorated with half-moons the way her nails dug into me. Not long after, I felt her pussy clench around my cock again and again. I drove harder until I felt the buildup in my shaft rolling up, ready to explode. I jerked and twitched, groaning out her name as I poured myself into her. This was the perfect poem, the perfect script. This was the high you chased when you’d laid down the ideal words of your story on paper. When you stepped back and said, “Fuck yeah. That’s it,” because perfection is so rare. This…this was everything. After all these years, Loren was mine. And, this time I was never letting go.

  Present

  I typed “The End” on my book and exhaled in relief. After Andrew left last night, the inspiration hit me. I knew it was late, but I had to write so I wouldn’t forget it. Sometimes, ideas came at the weirdest moments. I debated whether to send it to Andrew because it was going to seem very familiar, but in my mind it was poignant and expressed the lov
e the characters felt. It was eight in the morning. I yawned and stretched, taking myself to bed for a few hours of sleep. By the time I woke up, I needed to get ready for my shift at the restaurant.

  Andrew called me after my shift. “How was work?”

  I slipped my shoes off and sat down on my sofa. “Busy. I killed it in tips.”

  “Nice.”

  I paused, chewing on my nail, debating whether I should tell him I wrote the final part. “I finished my book this morning.”

  “That’s great, babe. Send it to me so I can see it.” I could hear the excitement in his voice. And, I loved that about him, but…

  “I will. I just need to look it over again, and I’ll send it sometime tomorrow.”

  “May I see you tomorrow?”

  I wanted to see him. Spend every waking moment with him. “Andrew, I wish you could, but Rose is coming over to spend the night. We’re having a girls’ night in. And, I really need to find out what happened between her and John.”

  Andrew laughed. He was so understanding. “I know. My brother’s been checking his phone all day long and opted to stay in tonight, which is rare for him.”

  He must’ve heard my yawn over the phone. “You sound tired.”

  “I am. I started writing after you left and didn’t stop until morning. I can’t pull all-nighters like you. I need sleep.”

  “Okay, Scout, why don’t you get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Night, Andrew.”

  “Night, Scout.”

  “Hey, chica, be there in an hour. What can I bring?”

  “You don’t have to bring anything, but if you want to bring those awesome cupcakes you know I like, that wouldn’t suck. I finished my book, so a celebration is in order.”

  Rose lived near a bakery that had the best cupcakes I’d ever tasted.

  She replied with a thumbs-up emoji. I knew I could count on her. I ran to the grocery store and grabbed a bottle of wine, and a bottle of champagne and some appetizers. I returned home, and made sure the house looked presentable and lit a candle so my home would smell nice. I put on some music.

  An hour later, Rose showed up with cupcakes in hand. She was so happy for me as we embraced. “Rosie, you got the cupcakes.”

  “Yes, and I’m so proud of you.” We went to the kitchen. She saw the nice spread on the counter and a bottle of champagne on ice.

  “Thanks for getting the champagne.”

  “Only the best for my Rosie. I knew you didn’t like wine. Besides, this is a special occasion.”

  “Let’s get this party started!”

  I pulled out the champagne bottle, took off the foil, and unhooked the wiring at the top. “I’d better move over to the sink.” My luck, the cork might shoot off and put my eye out.

  I poured the champagne into two flutes, grabbed two strawberries, and dropped them in.

  “Fancy schmancy,” Rose said as she took her glass.

  “Let’s make a toast,” I suggested and she nodded, waiting for me to say something. We held up our glasses. “Here’s to a good romance with a little ménage on the side.”

  She giggled because I’d told her about the story. “I’ll drink to that.” We clinked our glasses and took a sip. “I just sent the final part to Andrew before you texted.”

  “So, did you sleep with him yet?” Her eyes were laser sharp as she watched me, studying my expression. I nodded slowly, and my cheeks flushed. It was pointless to lie. Rose’s bullshit meter was strong.

  Rose screamed, gripping my arms. “You slut! I want details.”

  We sat down and I told her about the mind-boggling experience as we snacked. I switched to wine after my glass of champagne.

  After a couple of glasses of wine I looked at Rose, who still hadn’t said anything about the other night. Even on the phone the day before, she blew it off like it was no big deal, only telling me that John gave her his number but she didn’t take it. “Be honest, Rose. Did you get John’s number?”

  She dug her phone out of her purse, eyeing me, and showed me her contacts.

  “You little liar. You did put it in your phone. I knew you would.” I laughed.

  “I don’t know why I did.” She bit down on a strawberry and chewed slowly as she stared at her flute.

  “You don’t find him attractive, Rose?”

  “Anyone with two eyes would find him attractive, but his arrogance is a huge turnoff to me.” Yeah, she said that, but I saw how she kept stealing glances at him the other night. And, she was jealous when the crazy groupie girl sat in his lap.

  “He may come across that way, but I think a lot of it is an act. I knew him in high school, and he’s very bright.” I ran my fingertip around the rim of the glass. “So, did you call him?”

  You would’ve thought I’d asked her if she blew him by the way she crinkled her face. “No.”

  “Then what are you going to do with his number?”

  She downed her glass of champagne. “This.” She clicked on her phone and typed a word and showed me.

  “Hi!”

  He responded immediately.

  “Who is this?”

  Rose frowned. “He doesn’t know who it is?”

  “Well, Rose, he doesn’t have your number, so…”

  She scoffed and typed as I watched.

  “Who do you think this is?”

  I inwardly groaned. Not the guess-who-it-is game.

  “Bella?”

  “Who the hell is Bella?” she barked at her phone, as she gripped it and squeezed it to death. Was she surprised by his response?

  “Rose, stop. Just tell him who it is.”

  “Um, no. He’s going to have to figure this out.” She took a selfie of her cleavage, which looked very generous in the strappy casual dress she wore. What the hell was she doing? She was never this uninhibited. She was the prim and proper teacher, or at least she acted like that. Maybe the champagne was getting to her, or maybe it was just John.

  “Figure it out. This is a test and so far you are failing.”

  “Ah, I know. Hellooo, Tiffany.”

  And he added the popped-out eyeballs ogling emoji.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice screeched, and I knew she was exasperated if she was throwing out the f-bomb.

  “I told you to quit while you were ahead.”

  Then she snapped a picture of me. “Rose...”

  “Here’s another clue.”

  “Loren?!?! Why the hell would you send me a picture of your tits?”

  “¡Ay pinche cabrón!” Rose growled out like a feral animal. I said the f-bomb was her pissy limit, but I lied. When she cursed in Spanish, that was her over-the-top-I’m-gonna-shank-a-motherfucker pissed.

  However, I was angry, too that she sent him my picture. “I swear to God, Rose, if you don’t tell him who it is, I’m gonna smash your phone.” But, she was already texting, grumbling to herself.

  “Oh, my God! Seriously?”

  “I’m just fucking with you, Rose. I knew that rack belonged to you.”

  “Why am I even responding to him? He’s so immature,” she complained, but her voice was calmer as she smiled. “I can’t believe he called my breasts a ‘rack.’ Who says that?”

  Her thumbs moved across the phone.

  “I’m falling all over myself from your vast vocabulary .”

  “I could be more descriptive if you’d like.”

  She huffed and set the phone aside. I tried to keep myself from laughing. Her phone chimed. She grabbed it.

  “I hope I didn’t offend you, but you did send me the picture. And when can I see you again?”

  “Idk. I’ll get back to you.”

  “This is my last night in town…”

  “Sorry. I’m busy. Have a nice life.”

  “Wtf? Why did you text me then?”

  “Because I’m drunk and bored. Don’t worry. I won’t contact you again! Bye, Felicia.”

&nbs
p; This time she tossed the phone angrily on the counter, and he didn’t respond. “Asshole,” she said under her breath.

  “That escalated quickly.” I sipped my wine, wondering how that conversation took such a sudden nosedive. “Would you like a cupcake?” I held out one in condolence.

  “Yes. And another glass of champagne.”

  “Okay, but you need to slow down.”

  “I’m fine, Loren. Chill, and let’s enjoy our night together.”

  We stuffed our faces with cupcakes, and ended up on the couch watching three different reality TV shows for the next few hours. It was getting late, and I knew I had to work in the morning. “Rose, it’s late. I’m going to bed.”

  Rose downed the remaining champagne in her flute. “Me, too.” She wobbled a little, but she seemed okay. I went to my room and cleaned my face, brushed my teeth, and threw on a thin tank that I usually slept in. I fell into bed, but I wasn’t tired. I could hear Rose’s voice down the hall, talking and giggling. What was she doing now?

  I kicked my legs over the side of the bed and passed through my door, down the hall to her room. The door was cracked open, so I peeked in and almost died of shock. I saw the faint light from Rose’s phone as she sat on the side of the bed and held it in front of her. She then pointed her finger in an authoritative way and said in a breathy voice, “Okay, mister, that’s it. You’re staying after school with me to work on that paper you didn’t finish. You’d better work hard at pleasing me, or I’ll give you a failing grade and you won’t be able to play in your softball game.”

  “You mean baseball, sweetheart.” I faintly heard…John’s voice?

  “Yeah, your baseball game. If you want to play, you need to convince me with that strong, hard body of yours…”

  Oh, my gosh! I put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. She was video chatting with him and role-playing. My girl was a closeted freak. I walked back to my room and my phone rang. I dove over the bed and seized it from the nightstand. Andrew.