by Daddy X
Names have been changed to protect the innocent. The guilty party’s name has already been changed.
There was Patricia Mooney in kindergarten. I still remember the cute little blonde with curly hair. She looked quite a bit like Shirley Temple, who I was already in love with. First time a woman ever made me lose my appetite. My parents thought I was sick.
And of course, Judy Garland from “Wizard of Oz”.
By first grade, there was Carol Lecroix, a girl who lived on my block, clocked in a year older than I and went to another school. As old as she was, Carol went for a still older man. I think that slick fucker was eight.
Instead of the scary nuns, I was lucky to have the same lay teacher in both third and fourth grades of Catholic school. Miss Heitzton. She had attended that same primary school as a child, went to the city’s Catholic high, and her college degree was from a local Catholic university. She’d come back to teach her first years at her old school. Dark haired, full-figured and pretty, impossibly older than I. Probably at least twenty-two.
In fifth grade we moved. To another state. Big deal! Although the new school wasn’t more than two miles away as the crow flies. Wow. Mary Ann Lockley. Another brunette. Her full, wavy mane of mysterious hair dwarfed a petite face. Sharp dark features. From the better side of town. She never had time for me. I pined and I pined, talking with Mary Ann’s best friend on the phone every night for months, begging Linda to intercede with Mary Ann on my behalf. Never worked. By the time I’d fallen for Linda, she’d given up on me. I hadn’t yet learned the signals.
Let’s see- There was Alice Campbell in sixth grade. She got pregnant in seventh. (Not me) Then Mary Baugh in eighth. Her brother was in my class and she had graduated to high school. (An older woman) I got caught kissing her out by the schoolyard, which got me summarily thrown off the ‘Safety Patrol’ my second day on the job. I think it was mostly because Mary had chosen a public high school and was looked down upon by the nuns. And of course there was the kissing part. Yum.
High school? In and out of love with scores of them. There was Rosemary and Dotty and Joanne and Kathy. Chrissie’s mother came home early one night and I had to exit by a second-story window to avoid her rage. That was the end of that! A Nancy. Another Linda. A Bobbie and a Laurie. And so many other one-night-or-two-or-a-week-or-two…or-three month smittenfests. They all run together.
Until Momma came along in my senior year. She was a junior. We gave each other our respective virginities.
I’d better stop now. She reads these posts. ;>)
Here’s a 200 wc, all-dialog, no-tag flasher on the topic from “The Gonzo Collection” :
CALL ME ANNIE
“I love it when you call me Annie.”
“Oh fuck, baby. Sorry… did I do it again? Call you her?
“It’s okay, really. I know how you loved her.”
“But making love… Who would call out someone else’s name? I’m sorry, Sheila. After all these years, you’d think…”
“She was your first. First lover.”
“Yeah, but we were together such a short—”
“Never mind, honey. When we first married, I didn’t know if I could ever replace her. Didn’t know if I’d ever compare. Now, if you confuse what we have with a love that deep, that’s okay.”
“She was just gone. So sudden. Never even thought about death in those days... But we—us—we’re so much more than I was with her.”
“You two didn’t have time to develop. Before… Gosh, so young.”
“I don’t think she’d ever have come close to you, now that I know who we are. She was so squeamish about sex, for one thing. Lots of things she wouldn’t do. With her strict background, I don’t think she’d ever have come as far as we have.”
“Shhh. Get the lube. I’ll turn over.”
“Call me Annie.”