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Reply-To: "Frank Downey" <fabfour.fan@verizon.net>
From: "Frank Downey" <fabfour.fan@verizon.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP Alexandra by Frank Downey (Mf, teen, rom)
Date: Tue, 28 Aug 2001 16:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "alexandra.doc" begin>

Copyright 2000 by Frank Downey. All rights reserved. Permission
granted for copying for personal use. Any other use, please
contact me. Any use for pay sites is expressly forbidden.

Do not repost.


This is a work of fiction. This never happened. This is not
biography. Well, a little of it sort of happened in a roundabout
way. But most of it is fiction, especially the ending. 

However, deep inside the heart, soul, and essence of Alexandra
lurks the essence of a girl I once knew, a long time ago. This is
for her.  



ALEXANDRA

By Frank Downey
fabfour.fan@verizon.net


--One--

"BRAT!"

"TOAD!"

Well, don't all 8-year-old boys think all six-year old girls are
brats? And don't 6-year-old girls think 8-year-old boys are
toads? Well, most of them, anyway. That's my experience.

And those were our respective ages when Alexandra's family moved
in next door to mine. I was 8, she was 6. However, I don't
remember ever calling her a brat. And I don't remember her
calling me a toad. That was her twin sister Cheryl, who still is
a brat and probably still considers me a toad.

Alex was different. There were four girls in that family, and
they all competed for attention. Alex and Cheryl were the oldest,
followed by Andrea, who was 4 that first summer, and Jennifer,
who was 3. I always felt bad for their Dad, Mr. Callaghan, the
poor guy was outnumbered.

Alexandra and Cheryl were fraternal twins. If you didn't get that
just by looking at them, you'd figure it out after spending seven
seconds with them. Cheryl was the boisterous one. The younger
ones seemed to take Cheryl as a role model. Like I
said**2014**competing for attention. Alex didn't do that. She
went and sat in the corner. So, it was probably no surprise that
I**2014**the most introspective male 8-year-old you ever
met**2014**noticed Alex first.

I don't remember all that much about the first couple of years I
knew them, but I have a vivid memory of a few years later. I was
11, Alex was 9. The neighborhood crew I ran with was in their
backyard, and we were playing tag, or something. Something loud,
with Cheryl organizing and yelling and pontificating, as usual.
And I remember Alex, sitting by herself in the corner, reading.
The rest of the crew badgered her, telling her that she should
play with us, but she refused. I admired her for it. Me? Oh, I
was playing tag. An eleven-year-old boy, who'd rather read in the
corner than get dirty? Well, yeah, actually, I was. But that day,
I played.

The next time I saw her in the corner of the yard, reading, I
grabbed my latest and went to join her. The crew happened upon us
shortly thereafter, organizing a game of something. I turned them
down. And you can bet I got a boatload of shit for it. I also got
a sweet little smile from Alex. That offset the razzing, and then
some.

I also remember, about a year later, getting my first kiss from
her. It was in a game of Truth or Dare, where Alex had the dare,
and Cheryl**2014**of course**2014**dared her to kiss me. She
blushed, but she did it. It was warm, and sweet, and soft, and
made me all tingly. But that was it.

--Two**2014**

Alex and I were always friends, of a certain sort. We weren't
go-out-and-do-something friends. We were, if you're on your porch
I'll come chat with you friends. We still occasionally read
together. That sort of thing.

I suppose it started to change a little the summer before my
junior year in high school, which was the summer before
Alexandra's freshman year. I went to a private high school, but
she was going to attend the local public one. I turned 16 that
summer, just after Alex turned 14. We both had summer jobs. And,
it seemed that our schedules somehow coincided a lot, as we used
to arrive home at the same time quite a bit. 

It just seemed natural to settle on one or the other's front
porch for a chat. The chats got longer, and longer. We'd sit
there for hours, just talking. We'd talk about our jobs. I'd talk
about high school. She'd talk about being worried about high
school, mainly because of Cheryl, who was blonde and was well on
her way to being a candidate for a Playboy centerfold, and who
flirted with anything in pants. Alex was described by most people
as "cute". She was introverted. Under the glaring light of
Cheryl, she could feel like a gnat. I think I was the first
person she discussed this with. It worried her.

I know I was the first person she ever showed her short stories
to. And she was the first person that I shared my poems and songs
with. And, I made her laugh. Alex never laughed. Smile, sure.
Chuckle, giggle, yeah. But not laugh. I was doing an impression
of a customer that had been in the store I worked in, and she
started howling. Great big belly laughs. I found, over the
summer, that I made her laugh quite a bit. Nobody else could. It
was nice to be able to do that.

When school started, our nighttime chats became less frequent.
That was by necessity. My workload was brutal, hers only slightly
less so. But, we still made sure to hook up a couple times a week
for a talk. Her worst fears about Hurricane Cheryl were coming
true**2014**she was often left in her wake. I tried to reassure
her. 

It helped that she got asked out on a couple of dates. She had a
few short-lived boyfriends that year. I had a girl that I dated
most of the fall and into the winter. And we'd talk about that,
too. That was actually rather humorous. These relationships were
typical high-school stuff**2014**rocky as a dinghy in an ocean
storm. I'd complain about Marie, and Alex would say, "I'd never
do that to you." She'd complain about one of hers, and I'd say,
"What a jerk. Doesn't he know how to treat a girl like you?" I
suppose, if we had been older, we could have read the signs
better. But we didn't.


-----Three------

Anyhow, by the time winter turned to spring, both of us were,
again, unattached. And complaining to one another about it.
However, I had a bigger problem. There, looming in the
not-distant-enough distance like a great big anxiety attack, was
one of the prime milestones  (or millstones) of a High School
Junior's existence: The Prom. And I had to go. Tiger and Bill
would never let me forget it if I didn't.

Tiger and Bill? They were my best friends, almost from the very
start of freshman year. The three of us were tighter than an
overtuned guitar string. The Three Musketeers. The Three Stooges.
Huey, Duey, and Louie. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. The Beatles, minus
Ringo. That was us.

And they were going to the prom, and would take it as a personal
affront if I were not there with them. After all, what are Moe
and Larry without Curly? The Beatles could live without Ringo,
but John? I tried to point out to them that if they included
their dates they could be all four Beatles, but that didn't wash.
It was The Event of The Year. The Third of Three was expected to
be there.

Easy for them to say. They had dates. They had girlfriends,
actually. I had nothing, and time was a-gettin' on. And no way
was I going stag. Then Tiger made the suggestion: "Hey, you don't
need to be in love to go to the prom. Why don't you ask one of
the neighborhood girls you run with? You know, just as friends."

It was a capital idea. Now, I knew who Tiger had in mind**2014**a
couple of the girls from up the street that I ran with. He knew
them. And, yes, one or two of them would be glad to go, as long
as I did the whole "just as friends" preamble. One, in
particular, I knew would go and that I would have a good time
with.

But I didn't ask her, because Tiger's innocent suggestion had
made me think of something completely different. I didn't ask any
of the girls up the street. I asked Alexandra.

And there was no preamble. No qualifications. I just asked her,
"Alex, would you go to my prom with me?" And she said, "Yes." And
smiled.

It's funny**2014**walking back to my house, I wasn't filled with
relief that I had finally gotten a date for the prom and Bill and
Tiger would get off my back. All I could think of was**2014**how
the hell did I not notice before this how pretty she is when she
smiles?

--Four---

The prom was just fine, fine, fine. The six of us did the whole
limo bit. I went over to get Alex before the limo showed up, and,
when she walked out of the house, she took my breath away. The
shoulder-length ringlets of dark brown curls she had had since
she was six were piled up on her head. Her lightly applied
makeup**2014**which she never wore**2014**accented the twinkle in
her chocolate brown eyes. Her eyes. HER EYES! I had known her
since she was SIX how on EARTH had I never noticed her eyes
before? The lavender dress was fairly low-cut. Since when did
Alex have cleavage? She was very petite**2014**always had
been**2014**but she filled out her dress just fine, thank you
very much. And then that smile again. Did the little girl next
door, my pal, my chat buddy, change overnight? Or had I finally
woken up?

All four parental units took copious amounts of pictures. I was
glad, glad, glad. I wanted copies. I was going to carry a few
around with me, and the next jerk that called Cheryl "the pretty
twin" and Alex "the smart twin" was gonna get an eyeful of THIS.
Not that I'd blame them for not noticing. It had only taken me
nine years, right?

We piled in the limo. There with Tiger and Bill and their dates,
Alex's innate shyness asserted itself. Luckily, not for long. I
had warned the guys that she might go into a shell at first. Hey,
they're good guys. They're my best friends. They and their dates
helped me draw her out. I performed my special magic
trick**2014**I made her laugh**2014**and she found a second
person that could make her laugh**2014**Tiger. Tiger can make a
fencepost bark like a seal. Both of their dates were sweet, and
much bonding commenced. By the time we arrived at the prom, Alex
had discarded her shell for the duration and the Three Amigos
(plus female accompaniment) were ready for a Time.

And a Time we did have. We ate. We danced. Tiger and I made Alex
laugh until she cried. We badgered the DJ to play Born to Run so
Bill and I could sing it Really Really Loud while making an
effort to look like we were trying to dance. This made Alex
laugh, too. Then we danced some more.

There was, of course, an after-prom party. We had the limo until
the wee hours, so what did we care? I accepted a beer (a very
rare event.) Alex accepted a wine cooler (an unheard of
event**2014**in fact, it was her first.) We didn't drink enough
to get drunk, but we got happy. Somehow**2014**I don't even
remember how**2014**we ended up on a couch with my arm around her
and her head snuggling into my chest. It just seemed the natural
thing to do when I put my hand under her chin, tilted it upward,
and leaned down to kiss her. It seemed just as natural when I did
it again, a few minutes later. And again. And it seemed just as
natural, when I took her home, standing on her porch, to wrap my
arms around her**2014**as she wrapped hers around me**2014**and
really kiss her.


--Five**2014**

So, that's where It All Started, right? Well, not exactly. For a
while, it seemed like we were both scared that what had happened
that night was due to Prom Pixie Dust and couldn't be recreated
in the real world, or something like that.

But something had definitely happened. Not only did our porchside
chats increase in frequency**2014**and length**2014**now, it
seemed like we were always doing something together. If I was
going to the store, it seemed natural to go over and ask her if
she wanted to go. If she was going to the ice cream stand, it was
natural to ask me. If I wanted to go for a drive, I grabbed her.
Movies? Shopping? We'd always see if the other wanted to go. And,
it was natural that, when I scored two very coveted tickets to
see Bruce Springsteen in concert, I asked her to go with me.

It was Springsteen that did it. First of all, there was
absolutely no logical reason why I should have asked Alex to go
with me. I had plenty of BossManiac friends that would have cut
off an arm for that ticket**2014**I don't think Bill has forgiven
me yet**2014**and I decide to ask Alex, who had only the
slightest inkling who Bruce Springsteen even was. Her musical
tastes ran to Irish folk music, and classical. I told myself that
I was doing it to initiate the unaware. That, although it might
be fun to attend with someone else who knew all the words to
Darkness on the Edge of Town and wasn't shy about singing along,
it would be more fun to suck an unwary nonbeliever into the
Church of Bruce. While there was a kernel of truth in that, it
wasn't the real reason. And it certainly wasn't the reason she
eagerly agreed to go. 

Somehow, it had happened that, if I was going somewhere, I wanted
her along**2014**and she wanted to go with me. And, if she were
going somewhere, she wanted me along**2014**and I wanted to go
with her. The destination was almost unimportant. And this little
fact of life had snuck up on us so gradually that neither of us
had even realized it yet.

Anyhow, there we were, seeing "BROOOOOOOOOCE
SPRINGSTEEEEN.......AND  THE E! STREET! BAAAAAAANNNND!!!!!!" on
their tour in 1980, supporting The River album (still my
favorite.) It was stupendous. It was mind-boggling. It was The
Greatest Show On Earth. I knew all the words. I sang along. I
shouted myself hoarse. Alex? She started the night with a "So
what's this Bruce thing all about, anyway?" look on her face. By
the time they did "Rosalita" she was standing on a chair. Yelling
a lot. I knew the words, she didn't, so when they did "Thunder
Road", I made sure I sang the "Show a little faith, there's magic
in the night" line right at her. Because it was true. And I was
rewarded with That Smile. Times ten.

She babbled the whole ride home about how great it was. Another
convert for BossMania. I walked her to her porch, and, instead of
running in the door, she grabbed me. And kissed me, long and
deep. I was breathless**2014**and I know she was, too.

Bruce Pixie Dust? I hoped not. This time I was going to test the
theory. Well, first, I had to make sure the convert was taken
care of, so I went out the next day, headed to the record store,
and bought Alex a complete collection of Bruce. I presented them
to her, she squealed delightedly, kissed me again**2014**and
slammed the door in my face. And sheepishly opened it a second
later, inviting me in to listen with her. I laughed, let her go
explore the Majesty of Bruce by herself, and told her I'd see her
later.

It was that night, on my porch, one of our chat sessions. Except
there wasn't much chatting. I pulled her close, and kissed her.
And kept kissing her. We broke the kiss, and I could feel her
breath on my cheek. She reached down and planted little kisses on
my neck. I entwined my fingers in her curls. She rubbed my back.
Then she looked in my eyes again, and I kissed her again.

I think that one lasted about three weeks.

When we finally broke the kiss, and caught our breath, Alex
leaned over and whispered in my ear, "My God, I've never been
kissed like that in my life."

I just laughed. Then, she grabbed my face in her hands, looked
into my eyes, and said, "So, are you going to do it again, or do
I have to beg?" I didn't waste any time.

We necked for a while. It was glorious. Then she had to go
inside.

---Six--------

The next afternoon, Alex came and knocked on the door. I opened
it for her, and she walked right past me into the kitchen,
grabbed my car keys off the table, handed them to me, and said,
"Let's go for a ride."

We drove for a bit, and then she said, "Just exactly what
happened last night?"

"Well, you were there. And it seemed to me that you were a
willing participant."

She giggled. "Very willing. But, what I meant was, is something
happening between us?"

"That's a question, isn't it? Well, from my end there is."

"FINALLY!" She yelled. 

"Huh?"

"Well, I was thinking about it, and I realized something. I think
I've only admitted it to myself recently, but.....I've been in
love with you since that Truth or Dare game."

I think I just about drove off the road. I managed to control
myself, and pulled into the first parking lot I could find. I
found an out-of-the-way spot, turned to her, and said, "You are
kidding."

"Oh, it just dawned on me recently. But, think about it. You're
the only guy I know who's like me. You're sweet, you're kind. You
make me laugh. When I'm with you, I'm happy. You make me feel
whole. And I couldn't really define it until now, but I've known
it since I was ten. And, I think I've been waiting for you to do
what you did last night for a very long time."

"Oh, man."

"Don't worry, Chris, you're timing's perfect. I probably would
have run screaming out of sheer terror if you had done that any
earlier, no matter how much I wanted you to."

I laughed. "Well, I'm slow on the uptake. It took me until the
first time I made you laugh."

"That long ago? Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't YOU say something?"

We looked at each other. And cracked up laughing. "We're quite a
pair, aren't we?" I said.

"Yup. See**2014**we even get terrified together, without even
knowing it."

I took a deep breath. "I love you, Alexandra."

"I love you, too, Christopher."

That was all that needed to be said. From that moment on, we were
A Couple. It was understood.


----Seven------

Actually, considering we had been close to inseparable for some
time by then, not much changed. Except, when we walked to the
store, we held hands. When we grabbed a couch and a couple of
books to read, we did so with her head in my lap. And we still
talked**2014**we just kissed a lot more in between sentences.

I suppose the proof was late that summer, when she had a penpal
that she had corresponded with for years come to visit for the
first time. She was from Ireland, and she came over for a couple
weeks. Alex introduced me to her as "Chris, my boyfriend." That
made it official.

Of course, there were a few other changes in our relationship.
Alex was a Good Girl, I had known that from the start. Virginity
was saved for the wedding night. Of course, there's a huge gulf
between kissing and intercourse, but I was unsure how much of
that gulf she was willing to traverse. We never talked about it.
I was unsure when it came to that. I suspected that I was her
first real kiss, and I knew for a fact that she had never been
touched. To be honest, both of those statements were true of me,
also. It was the blind leading the blind.

To this day, neither of us knows if she sent out a subtle sign
that I caught, or if I just guessed right, but, one day, in
October, we were kissing. She was sitting indian-style on the
couch, facing me, and I was twisted, half facing her, and our
lips were locked. I had my hand resting lightly on her stomach,
and I just slid it up. I half-expected her to remove it. She
didn't. She sighed, and pressed her torso forward, as if to
increase the pressure my hand was putting on her breast. So I did
it for her**2014**pressing against her breast through her shirt
and bra. She practically stuck her tongue down my throat, and
then she broke the kiss, concentrating on what I was doing to her
breasts. She leaned back, so I could get my other hand up there.
She sighed contentedly and gave me a smile, different than her
usual one**2014**but just as good.

After I was done, she looked up at me with those shining eyes,
and said, "Oh, goody. Another way to make me feel good. You just
keep coming up with those, sweetie."

From there, things progressed rapidly. The next night, out
parking, I had her shirt completely off. A couple nights after
that, she shocked me by reaching for my belt buckle, while I had
contemplated trying to get in her pants. There had been a limit
she had set, but, beyond that, she was willing to try anything..

As I quickly found out, when she engulfed my member in her mouth.
I was shocked. Stunned. And harder than I had ever been in my
life. I had jerked off, of course. What teenaged boy doesn't?
But, that was nothing like this. She was inexperienced,
unpracticed, and I had to hiss `Watch the teeth!' once. But it
didn't matter. It was fantastic. She was fantastic. After a
couple of false starts, she was bobbing her head up and down like
someone who had actually done this before.  I felt my climax
building, warned her, she ignored me, and I came**2014**in a
torrent**2014**right into her mouth. I was more shocked and more
stunned.

She climbed up next to me in the back of my station wagon, a
little satisfied smile on her face. "Well, that's a bit of a
different taste. I think I like it, though."

I stared at her. "Alex, you amaze me."

"What, you think us shy, demure virgin types don't get horny?"
she laughed.

"Oh, I get it. You just did that to me so I'd return the favor,"
I teased her.

She blushed. "Oh, no, Chris....I didn't mean...no, I've always
wanted to do that for you...no, I didn't expect......."

"Relax," I interrupted. "Do you think I have even the slightest
problem with returning the favor? Lie back."

I pulled off her pants and panties, and got my first ever look of
a girl's pussy. I worshiped it. I worshiped her. And then, I
worshiped her, and it, with my tongue. I'm a pussy addict. My
favorite participatory sport is cunnilingus. And it all started
that night.

I found her clit and massaged it. I ran my tongue up and down her
pussy. Her heavy breathing got ragged, and then turned into
little squeals. Then she came, bouncing up and down so hard she
almost broke my nose. Not that I would have minded**2014**or
noticed, for that matter.

"Nnnnnnnngggggggggggg....." was the first thing that came out of
her mouth after she recovered the ability to breathe. Her eyes
fluttered open, and she saw me there, grinning at her. 

"Y'know," she said. "I've had orgasms before. Playing with
myself. But never, ever, ever like THAT."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing a couple minutes ago."

That opened the floodgates. We became the First Couple of Oral
Sex and Mutual Masturbation. The barrier was still down on the
other thing, but who cared? And there were chips in that barrier.
"I'm waiting until I'm married" gradually became "I'm waiting
until I'm ready." So, ready could mean tomorrow, it could mean
three years from now. As long as I got to worship that beautiful
pussy of hers, I could wait until the earth spun off its axis,
for all I cared. And she knew that. The sex was great because it
was based on trust. You don't have sex with someone two to three
times a week and not ever have actual intercourse unless you
trust that person completely. She knew I respected that barrier,
and would never attempt to tear it down.

It wasn't all sex, it's just that the sex was new. You don't
start a relationship with someone you've been friends with for
nine years and have it just based on sex**2014**it's impossible.
I knew Alex, inside and out, and she knew me. We studied
together. We went for walks, or drives. We tried to go out to eat
at least once a week. We still read together, her lying on the
couch, head on my lap. It was, looking back now on it, idyllic. I
spent a lot of my senior year in high school with Alex.

Of course, there was a looming problem.

College.

--eight**2014**

I had started looking at colleges the previous year. I thought I
might want to get away. We lived in the northeast, and there was
a school in the Midwest that I took a liking to. This school was
my first choice before Junior year ever ended. By the time it
came time to actually apply to colleges, my life had changed.
Alex, of course, wasn't going anywhere. She still had two years
of high school left to go.

She encouraged me. My reasons for getting away were valid, and
she thought it would be a good thing. I applied to some local
schools, and got into them, but also got into the one in the
Midwest. Alex told me, "If it's meant to be, then it's meant to
be. I fully plan on being here waiting for you when you get
back." So, I decided to go.

But that was six months away, and now was all about Alex. We had
a wonderful first Christmas. I flooded her room with flowers on
Valentine's Day. She baked soda bread and made Irish stew and
took me to a step dancing festival for St Patrick's day. We
studied, listening to Springsteen. We fooled around in the back
of my station wagon. We'd leave silly notes in each other's
mailbox. She told me her dreams, and I told her mine, and we
found out that we were each in the other's.

And, of course, there was another Prom. The Biggie, the Senior
prom. There was no scrambling for a date this year. Tiger and
Bill still had the same girlfriends, so it was the same cast of
characters, The Three plus Three. And, instead of ending with a
first soul-kiss on a front porch, it ended up with me waking up
next to Alex in a hotel room we had rented. We had fallen asleep
after a wonderful couple hours of Everything But. That's right, I
slept with her without sleeping with her. Waking up next to her,
seeing her beauty in the morning light, was worth the price of
admission.

It was a wonderful summer after that. Knowing that I was going
away in the fall, we spent as much time as possible together that
summer. My Dad made a joke about wondering if we went to the
bathroom together.

The week before I left, she offered "it" to me. But it was
halfhearted.

"Y'know," she said, "I've been thinking about letting you have my
virginity before you leave."

"Do you want to?"

"Part of me does. Really bad, as a matter of fact." 

"I can understand that. But I'm not taking it until all of you
wants to."

She sat for a minute, then just looked up at me and said, "I love
you. When I do give it away, it's yours. I promise. And I don't
think you'll have to wait too much longer."

A week later, I was a thousand miles away.

-----nine-----

I liked school. I liked being away from home. I made a lot of new
friends. I enjoyed seeing another part of the country. It was
cool.

But I missed Alex.

I met Karen. We became fast friends. When I got to know her I
found out that she was...unusual. She was practically a nympho,
with a special fetish for taking guys' virginity. She found out I
was cherry, and put the full court press on. I told her, "sorry,
I'm saving that for Alex." She teased me mercilessly, and then
told me that it was the sweetest most romantic thing she had ever
heard**2014**and then went back to teasing me mercilessly about
it. I didn't mind. We were good friends. She really did respect
my decision**2014**despite the teasing**2014**and she was a great
kid, lots of fun to be with. I arranged to have her pluck my
roommate, who was very nice to me for a week afterwards.

And, I wrote a lot of letters. I pretty much kept a diary of my
life the first half of that first semester, but I didn't put in
in a notebook. I put it in an envelope and mailed it to Alex. She
did the same. I ran to the mailbox every day. I know she did,
too. We talked on the phone once a week, on Sunday night. It
usually spilled over into the wee hours of Monday morning.

The letters got a little less frequent around the end of October.
I didn't mind, really. Writing the kinds of letters we were
writing was time consuming, and we had work to do. The tone of
the letters never changed. Our phone conversations never changed.


Until Thanksgiving Day. I couldn't come home for
Thanksgiving**2014**not enough money, not enough time. I called
her on the day, and got her right in the middle of the meal.
Normally, that wouldn't have been much of a problem. However, she
sounded distracted**2014**and I could hear Cheryl yelling in the
background, "Did you tell him yet? Did you tell him?" I asked
what that was all about, and she made something up. She cut the
call off in record time, promising to call me back later. She
never did.

Three days later, I got The Letter.

There was another guy. She had met him through Cheryl. Now, you
have to understand about Cheryl. Cheryl changed boyfriends like
most people changed socks. She also gave most of them what they
were most interested in. And she hated the whole Chris-and-Alex
thing. She constantly badgered her sister about "throwing her
youth away" tied down in a serious relationship**2014**now, a
long-distance serious relationship. I also believe she was
jealous. I know for a fact that she was a shrew. She'd like
nothing better than to break Alex and I up. With me a thousand
miles away, she saw her opportunity. 

So, Alex had been dating this guy for about a month. Now, we had
no problem with that. I pretty much "dated" Karen at school. We
went out all the time.  Neither Alex nor I expected the other to
spend our time apart walled up like hermits. I had no problem
with her dating.

I had a big problem with her surrendering her virginity to
someone that wasn't me. 

She was lonely, and horny, so she let him get a little physical.
Then she let him get a lot physical. Then he was over her,
insistent, begging, and she was saying "no, no, no" and all of a
sudden she found herself saying "yes".

Oh, she was pushed. No doubt about it. Do you think I couldn't
have pushed her? After all our times of mutual gratification,
don't you think that barrier of hers was paper-thin? It was. It
would have only taken the slightest push on my part, and it would
have crumbled. I had known that for close to a year. I swore to
myself I would never do that.

And now, someone else had.

She had surrendered her virginity. And mine was still
ingloriously intact.

The rest of the letter trailed off into tear stains, half
scribbled apologies, pleas for forgiveness, etc, etc. When I read
the letter some time later, I realized that she never did say
that she wanted to break up. She also hinted that this guy had
been pushed right out of the picture shortly after the Event.
But, I didn't pick up that subtext right away, that first time I
read it. I took it as a breakup. And a horrible, agonizing
betrayal.

I reacted maturely, calmly, completely in control of my emotions.
Right? Who am I kidding. I was eighteen years old. I LOST it.

Tore my half of the room apart. Screamed. Cried. Called her every
nasty name I could think of, in every language that I knew them,
and even made up a few of my own. Then I had one of my of-age
floormates buy me a bottle, and I got toasted. Then, I called
Karen.

That was a no-brainer. I was betrayed. I was horny. Karen was
willing. She was surprised. Thought I was saving myself for Alex.
"Yeah, and I thought Alex was saving herself for me. I was
wrong." I showed her the letter. Karen, bless her heart, knew
this was a revenge-fuck, and still didn't mind. She told me she'd
help me out.

It was good. She was great. The girl had talent, no doubt about
it. The orgasms were fantastic. She knew what she was doing. But
it wasn't what I had expected. It wasn't profound. The earth
didn't move. The stars didn't realign themselves. Hey, I enjoyed
myself. It was a lot of fun, Karen made sure of that. I was
satiated, completely.

But I wasn't content. Because it wasn't Alex.

---ten---

I spent the next week in a fog. Then I got a surprising phone
call.

It was from Andrea, the middle Callaghan sister. 

Andrea had started life trying to be Cheryl Two, and quickly
found that that didn't completely work for her. She was still
boisterous, fun-loving, the life of the party, but she had
avoided becoming a manipulative contemptible bitch. She was a
good kid. She and Alex never quite understood one another, but I
helped, because I loved Alex and was inordinately fond of Andrea.
I considered her the kid sister I didn't have, and she felt the
same way. And, despite their wildly different personalities,
there was a bond, a strong one, between Andrea and Alex.

Which is why Andrea called me. She was worried about her sister.
She had managed to drag the whole story out of Alex.

"Chris, it's Andi. Look, you've got to do something!"

"What do you want me to do, kid?"

"I don't know, but something. Alex can't eat. She can't sleep.
Cheryl is walking around here like the cat that ate the fucking
canary, and I want to shove my fist down her throat. And Alex is
a walking pile of depression. She reads your letters and cries.
She looks at your picture and cries. My parents, as usual, are
oblivious. But, Chris, right now she hates herself. How can you
keep getting up in the morning if you hate yourself?"

"Andi, you know what happened?"

"Yeah. And I know you must have been devastated. But, dammit,
Chris, she is too. I know she did this. I know it was her fault.
I also know if there was any way to take it back, she would. I
also know she still loves you. And I know damn well that you
still love her."

"Yeah, I do." I took a deep breath. "Look, Andi, I need a sign
from her. Something. Doesn't have to be big. But I need
something. I need her to take the first step, even if it's a baby
one."

"I'll work on it."

It took a week for Andi to bolster Alex's courage, but a week
later, there was a card in my box. It was a small one, which said
"Thinking of You" on the outside. Inside, she had written,

My dearest Christopher,

Words can not say how sorry I am.
I can only hope that someday you can forgive me
Please don't hate me, because I love you,
And I always will.

Alex

I read it, and read it, and reread it again. I think I hugged it
a little bit. Then, I composed my reply. Since I was flying home
in a week for Christmas break, I kept mine short and simple. I
just didn't want to leave her hanging until I returned. I bought
a small card, and wrote,

Alexandra, my love,

If love exists,
All things are possible.
Does love still exist?
It does here.

See you in a week.

Chris

---eleven----

I got off the plane, and looked for my parents. They knew the
flight, the time, all that, and were coming to pick me up. Or so
I thought. Unbeknownst to me, Alex had gotten her driver's
license two weeks before. Also unbeknownst to me, she had
convinced my mom to perform a Switcheroo.

I spotted her first, and my heart skipped a beat. I think I
thought she was an illusion at first, since I wasn't expecting
her to be here. She was looking in the other direction, and
didn't see me coming. I think I ran. I dropped my carry-ons,
picked her up, swung her around, and held on for dear life. As a
reward, I got The Smile, and then I got a hot, heavy,
weak-in-the-knees soul kiss in the middle of thousands of people
in a busy airport. 

We talked on the way home. Then**2014**since it was too cold on
the porch**2014**we went to my room at home and talked some more.
I forgave her before she asked me to. I told her about Karen, and
she said she understood. She cried, I cried, we held each other,
and we kissed a lot. 

I had made an appointment with one of the local colleges to
inquire about transferring. It looked like it would be completely
doable. Alex was a little upset, because she was afraid that I
was transferring home because I didn't trust her any more. 

"Not at all," I told her. "It's got nothing to do with trust.
It's got everything to do with love. I just can't bear to be that
far away from you anymore." That, she wholeheartedly agreedwith.

Christmas Eve, Tiger and Bill came over. Their previous
girlfriends had been high school flings, so they showed up with
their new college girlfriends. I was still with Alex. Thank God.
The girls were very sweet, there was more bonding, and we ended
up drinking too much eggnog and going out around my neighborhood
singing Christmas Carols. We weren't that bad. Heck, if we had
been sober, we might have even remembered all the words. People
threw money**2014**or tomatoes**2014**and the proverbial Good
Time Was Had By All. Alex and I exchanged gifts at midnight.

And, for New Year's weekend, my parents went away.

Alex came over on New Year's Eve. I made spaghetti with marinara
sauce**2014**Mom's recipe always works**2014**and we broke into
my parents' wine stash. We ate, we drank, we talked. And then I
took her upstairs.

It started like it always had. I took her shirt off, and played
with her sensitive breasts. She was fairly small, but that was
OK, because I had found I could fit almost a whole breast in my
mouth and still tease the nipple with my tongue, a little
maneuver that drove Alex wild. 

Then, I moved down. Boy, had I missed worshiping her this way.
She was soaked. It was heavenly. I curled my tongue into a little
funnel and probed her entrance. I brought my tongue up and down
her pussy lips and flicked it at her clit. Then I settled in on
her clit, and started moving a finger in and out of  her hole.
She went wild**2014**even for her**2014**thrusting her hips at my
finger and face. She gasped. She moaned. She gripped the sheets,
then gripped my head, practically tearing a couple clumps of hair
out. Did I mind? Are you kidding? It was fantastic. She had never
been all that verbal, but, when she came, I got a very satisfying
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOYYEEEEEE!" from her.

I crawled up beside her, and she pulled me into her. "Chris, I
want you to make love to me. I need you to. I need you to make
the hurt go away. I need you to make it all better. I need you. I
need you in me, I need it so bad.."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to beg."

She smiled at that, but kept it up as I adjusted myself,
murmuring, "..need you...I need my love inside me....need it so
bad....oh I need it....."

She got it. It took some effort. She was tight. It was worth the
effort. I finally got myself buried to the hilt, and rested for a
minute. She looked up at me, and gave me That Smile. Times a
million.

I gathered her up to me, and started moving, in and out. This was
so intense, and it was my second time, and I had no illusions
about how long it would take. Not very.

Alex lowered her face to my neck, kissing it lightly, as I gently
thrust in and out of her. Then she moved her lips up to my ear,
and whispered. "Oh, my love, I waited so long for this. This
feels so right...oh, I needed you so bad....I could do this
forever." 

I chuckled and whispered back. "Unfortunately, I can't."

She giggled, and said, "It's OK. I don't mind. I already had one.
It's your turn." Her breath was getting more and more ragged.
"It's OK, Chris. Cum inside me. I want you to. Cum for me,
Chris." By this time, her words were punctuated by gasps, and I
knew she was getting close, but I just couldn't hold out. I did
what she told me to do. I came, spectacularly, up inside her.

As I lie on top of her, still buried in her, I realized
something. I was still hard.

She realized it, too. "Hmmm," she giggled, "seems to me like
somebody's not done yet."

"Alex, you're a miracle worker," I said. She giggled again.
"Let's try something." Without disengaging, I put my arms around
her back, and rolled us over. 

"Hmm. This is interesting," she mused. She adjusted her legs and
arms to get some leverage. She ended up sitting up straight,
hands on my stomach for leverage. Then she started moving herself
up and down on my member. "Oooooooh, I think I like this!"

I put my hands on her hips to steady her. "I think I like this
myself."

"Ummmm.....oohhhh.....That's cause I'm doing all the work....."

"No, that's not it at all. It's because I get to watch you."

I wasn't kidding. She had her ringlets of hair pulled back off of
her face with a bow, but a few had escaped, and curly strands
framed her face and snaked down her neck. Her face was flushed.
Her eyes were closed. At one point, she bit her lower lip,
showing me the small gap between her two top front teeth, a
feature that I had always found endearing. Her chest heaved from
exertion and excitement. She started murmuring something. I
couldn't hear at first. Then it got a little louder; "oh God it's
so good it's so good it's so good oh God oh God......"

I could tell she was close, so I strengthened my upward thrusts
in time with her downward ones. She groaned, and then dropped her
arms by her sides. I increased my leverage on her hips as she
approached her climax, and she lost control and flopped around.
When it hit, she fell forward and lied on my chest for it,
moaning and writhing on me as her pussy spasmed around my cock. I
wrapped my arms around her. It was fantastic. She was in no
condition to do much of anything after that, so I flipped her
over and finished myself off, enhanced by her dreamily whispering
"I love you..I love you....,"in my ear the whole time.

--twelve**2014**

We were cuddling after that, my arms wrapped around her, when I
felt her shiver. I gradually realized she was shaking. Her whole
body was convulsing. Then, I realized why**2014**she was crying
into my chest.

"Alex?"

"Oh, Chris, I'm so ashamed."

"What, about this? You are kidding, right?"

"No, not about this." Her voice got quieter. "This should have
been my first time. You should have been my first. "

"And you should have been mine. There's no use crying over
spilled milk."

"Yeah, but at least yours was fun. Mine was a disaster."

She had never talked about it. We talked about us, but not him,
or that. I sensed she needed to, so I let her. "It really was a
disaster, you know. I had let my hormones get the best of me.
When he touched me, I got so horny, because it had been so long,
and I was ready by then. You were going to get it when you came
home; I had already decided that. But he touched me, and I
needed...*something*....and I think I let him go all the way
because by that point I desperately needed to get off and nothing
else he was doing was making it happen, because he had no clue.
And even doing that didn't get me off. He was horrible. And I
felt like dirt the whole time, wishing I was with you. I even
tried to fantasize I was with you, but I couldn't, because every
inch of my body knew that I wasn't. I regretted doing it before I
even started, but I couldn't stop myself. And Cheryl made it
worse. She gloated. She spent a week saying to me `little Miss
perfect finally gives up her precious virginity, and it's not to
her own boyfriend!" And worse." She sighed. "Then, I'm here with
you, our first time, and it's everything I could have dreamed
about plus more. It was fantastic. I haven't come down to earth
yet." She looked at me. "I made you wait forever. Now I wonder
why I made you wait. Especially when it turns out that I
couldn't."

"First of all, it was worth the wait. Second of all, I really
don't care anymore that I wasn't your first. I am kinda hoping,
however, that I will be your last."

I must have said the right thing, because the version of That
Smile I was treated to could have lit up four star systems.

"Alex," I told her, "I know you as well as you know yourself.
I've known all along that beneath that calm exterior lies raging
passions. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I'm just glad
you're bringing those passions into my bed."

"And, my dearest Alex, before I go back to school, I'm buying you
a vibrator."

She was still giggling when I drifted off to sleep.

--thirteen**2014**

I awoke the next morning with somebody's hands wrapped around my
morning Woody and someone sitting on my legs. I fluttered my eyes
open, and there was Alex, straddling me. "Hello, sleepyhead. Glad
you woke up. You certainly wouldn't want to sleep through this,
would you?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" I asked her.

"Hey, we've had a year and a half of foreplay." She sank down on
me. What a way to wake up.

Alex was confirming a discovery she had made the previous night.
She liked the female superior position. She liked it a lot. I was
not complaining. And, I made a discovery about her. Alex makes
slow, tender, gentle love in the morning. 

She straddled me for well over an hour. She cuddled me. She
kissed me, and nuzzled my neck, and ran her fingers through my
hair. I rubbed her back, and played with her breasts. It was like
making out, except I had my cock buried deep in her pussy.
Sometimes she rocked back and forth. Sometimes she lifted up, and
settled deliberately back down, and then did it again 30 seconds
later. Sometimes she just let it be in her. It was unhurried,
calm, gentle, altogether indescribable.

In the middle of it, I reached up and whispered in her ear, "I
didn't think it was possible to be this close to anotherperson."

"I woke up," she said, "and decided that I wanted to crawl inside
you and wrap you all around me."

When we finally came, it wasn't an explosion. It was more like a
cool, gentle summer rainstorm at twilight taking the edge off of
a blazing hot day. It was something I'll never forget as long as
I live.

We had all day, all night, and most of the next day before my
parents came home, and we made up for a lot of lost time.

--fourteen**2014**

We explored each other as much as possible before it was time for
me to go back to school. I actually did buy her a vibrator, much
to her amusement, and told her that she had to confess in her
letters whenever she used it. She confessed a lot, much to my
amusement. She called it The Substitute. She used to write, "You
made me so horny over the phone that, as soon as I hung up, I had
to use The Substitute."

The transfer was approved, so when I came home to her arms in
May, it was for good. And in time for her junior prom.  My new
school was 45 minutes away. Not quite next door, but close
enough. She spent so much time there with me that she fell in
love with the place, and decided to go there herself. Of course,
the first year I was there, she was still in high school. I put a
ring on her finger that Christmas. Her parents had a slight
conniption**2014**how many high school seniors go back from
vacation with an engagement ring?**2014**but we promised them a
long engagement. We were waiting until we both got out of school,
but we wanted to make the promise to one another.

I graduated school, and got a good job right away. I moved into
an apartment, and Alex moved in with me. Two years later, she
graduated.

The wedding that summer, as befits us, was a Time. Tiger was the
best man, Bill was an usher, and Alex chose Andrea as maid of
honor, which delighted me. Cheryl had thought herself entitled to
the position, as befitting a twin,and had a snit about it, but
Alex told her, "Refresh my memory. Which one of you tried to
break us up, and which one helped us get back together?" Cheryl
didn't even show up. She wasn't missed.

So, maybe not the first, but The Last, forever and always. And,
getting another look at That Smile was extra special, when it was
accompanied by, "I do."

--epilogue**2014**

Alex still makes sweet, gentle, tender love in the morning.

We have three kids. Sasha is ten, Bruce (of course) is seven, and
Katrina is five. Sasha has a crush on the boy next door, and
still doesn't get why that makes her parents laugh so much.

And there was this tour, last year. Bruce Springsteen and the E
Street Band, reunited. We each have our own computer, in
adjoining rooms (hers in the bedroom, mine in my study) and the
MP3 bootlegs of shows from the tour were popping up days after
each show. We'd play a game of "who can find what", yelling at
each other through the doorway.

"I got Copenhagen and Berlin!"

"Oh yeah, well I got the first three Meadowlands shows!"

Did we attend a show ourselves? What, are you kidding? Fourth row
seats, got off the internet, and though I joked about having to
auction Katrina off to pay for them, it was worth every penny.
They played all the good stuff and Alex caught one of Miami
Steve's guitar picks. It was, as it always is, a Time.

Bruce was ending every show with a new song. It's called "Land of
Hope and Dreams." We knew all the words, of course, from all
those bootlegs. There's a couplet in there: "Dreams shall not be
thwarted, faith will be rewarded." You got to admit, the man has
a way with a lyric, because truer words were never spoken.

And, every time I sing those words to Alex, I get**2014**you
guessed it**2014**That Smile.

And I never get tired of it.

---fin---


























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