Smiley Faces

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Every year around springtime I get nostalgic when I think of the sexual highlight of my high school years, or college years for that matter. I am now twenty-five years old and look pretty much the same as when I was eighteen and this timeless moment took place. I am an inch or so taller and my hips are a little fuller. I have gone from a B to a C cup and feel them as perky as ever. My face has a more mature look. I feel womanly, but can’t help look at that high school senior with pride.

Gretel was also eighteen when we had one glorious moment, before moving on to adulthood. I always thought of her as a queen bee in high school, and in grade school. It seemed that there were a few queens in school. Each clique had it’s own leader. Gretel lorded over the athletes. The basketball and softball players, and by default the cheerleaders.

I was always considered cute, but very shy and studious. My only sexual experience was when I gave my virginity to my best friend Stacy’s older brother. He poked me with his large penis and made me scream. I think he felt he accomplished something heroic by making me howl in pain. I hurt for days.

My cute look: I was about 5’4″. I had dark hair and dark eyes. My skin was very pale. I was blessed with and still am with a heart shaped ass. My 34B’s had pink nipples that would come alive at the slightest touch. My cute look attracted my share of boys. These boys seemed to be the second and third tier boys. I wasn’t attracted to them or to the popular kids. I liked the dangerous kind, the dark and mysterious boys who were usually getting detention. I never seemed to make any headway with them.

Since grade school I had always found myself staring at Gretel. She was a diva. She was about 5’9″ and had curly blonde hair. Blue eyes that looked right through people. Her skin had a tan look that held throughout the year. She had long legs and the sexiest bubble butt I have ever seen. She always showed it off, especially in her team outfits. I could never really judge the size or shape of her breasts because she always wore either loose blouses or bulky sweaters. She usually wore a sports bra under her uniform. I loved watching the way she moved. The way her long legs strode through a crowd. I marveled when she let her dominant nature show. I am sure it was not easy being a queen bee. I wish we had been friends, and am still saddened that because of the cliques in school we were on different sides. She was on the cool side and me on the bookish side.

I saw her play sports as much as I could, sitting out of the way so I could stare at her as much as possible without being noticed. I became aroused when she got tangled up with other girls on the basketball court. I preferred to watch her on the softball field when she pitched. It was fast pitch softball. She would wind up with all her might and let the ball loose then she would drag her right foot on the ground as she completed the motion. I thought that was so sexy, capping off her beautiful motion. She lost her share of games, but senior year was her time. She was undefeated through the regular season and headed towards the Esenyurt Escort playoffs.

It was at a softball game that I think she realized I was staring at her and only at her. She looked right at me for a few seconds. My mouth must have been opened and I was probably drooling. I was jealous of the girls that got to spank her bottom and desperately wanted to be spanked by her. I was certain that I was straight, but in love with a beautiful girl, Gretel.

I was in the bathroom one morning, looking at myself in the mirror, trying to look my best. All of a sudden, towering over me, there was Gretel. She sometimes wore high heels to school and this made her seem even more in control.

“Can I talk to you,” she ordered.

“Sure, Gretel. ” I am not sure if I stuttered.

She was having trouble in U.S. Government and needed some help. I guess that always having my name on the principles list made people wonder if I did anything besides study.

‘Too much partying I guess. This is the last year of high school and all. Maybe I can get you invited to a party if you get me back on track. We have playoffs coming up, and, well, that bitch we have for a teacher won’t back down. I could miss a game.” Gretel seemed serious.

I agreed to help her and we arranged a time after school. She would leave practice early. We were going to meet in the library She instructed me to go home after school and come back at 4:00.

“Wear something casual. So we can relax.” She said, looking down at my blue blouse and even bluer pants.

“Sure, Gretel.” I tried to make my voice clear.

All day I thought of how our interaction would go. I wanted to be so close to her, to her beauty. After school I went home and showered and looked for something casual. I tried to copy her look, her after practice or after a game look. I found a pair of baggy brown shorts and an oversized shirt. I put on a pair of flip-flops and left excitedly.

I passed by Gretel as I was going into the school. She was holding court with a couple of star-struck J.V. softball players. She did not seem to want to acknowledge me. I quietly went inside and headed for the library. Gretel walked in a minute or so later. She was on time. She had on a pair of long shorts and was wearing an oversized shirt. She had on sports sandals and was not wearing socks. She had pink nail polish on her hands and feet. She said the coach had let her go early and she was now changed and relaxed. She took off her sandals and sat down in a chair and crossed her legs. I was disappointed. The long shorts prevented me from seeing her thighs or sneaking a look at her private area.

“Do you have a date for the prom?” She asked.

“Yeah. I’m going with Eric Stewart.” I said.

“Oh.” She said. I imagined her thinking: ‘Is that the best nerd you could find?’

I started to go over the basics of the material that I knew was going to be on the test. I thought she was playing dumb and I wondered if she needed my help at all.

Gretel came over to my side of the table to look at my notes. Her face was so close to mine that I could smell Avcılar Escort the bubble gum she had tossed earlier. I could also smell the sweat from practice. She was beautiful. I was lucky to be in the same air space as her.

“Pam,” she said, “why do you always look at me like you want to, I don’t know, fuck me? Or am I mistaken and that is a look of jealousy.”

“Well.” I steadied myself. You certainly have a lot about you to make other people jealous. You have always intrigued me. Your attitude…” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Do you fantasize about me?” She was so close now. I wanted to kiss her.

“Yes.” I was certain the queen was going to discard me now. “I love seeing you pitch.”

“I actually like when you watch me. I try harder when you watch me like you do. I strut around more.” She said.

“When you drag your foot after the pitch, that makes me crazy.” I said, opening up to her. I felt she was being sympathetic.

“Like this?” She dragged her bare foot across the floor.

“Yes.” I said.

I think she knew I had just submitted to her. She grabbed me by the hand and led me to a storage area in the back of the library. A queen bee had chosen me. Her lips were so soft and her bubble gum breath was intoxicating. We kissed for a couple of minutes. She maneuvered her tongue in my mouth, swirling it around. I sensed she was holding back.

“Have you ever been with a girl?” She asked.

“No.” I said. “You?”

“No. I have seen a lot of girls naked though. Even from other teams.” Gretel said.

“I have always wondered what you look like naked.” I said.

As if on command, she took off her shirt. Her sports bra was black and had pink trim. I had waited for this moment for years. Her breasts.

Take your shirt off.” She commanded.

I obeyed. As I started to pull my shirt off, I sensed she was taking off her sports bra. I relive that moment in my head quite a bit. Part of me felt, and still does, sorry for her. Part of me felt as though I were in on a secret. She was completely flat-chested. Her nipples were puffy and pink. The buds seemed like they had given all they had. She almost seemed embarrassed. I had once overheard another girl say someone had the worst tits in school when Gretel walked by. I never knew it was Gretel they were talking about. I would never have called them the worst, but they were surprising.

She took off my bra. I was never prouder of my 34B’S. I bested a queen bee at something. I pushed my chest up. Showing off.

She started to nibble on my breasts, and as much as I was content to let her go on all day, I forced her off me. I wanted to attack her nibblers before the moment was lost. She tasted so sweet. She tasted perfect. I had my mouth all over her and felt I was dominating, but something told me to get back into the submissive role. My fantasy was coming true and I needed to have it play out with her in control. I dropped to my knees and started to pull off her shorts. I almost started to laugh. Gretel was full of surprises. She was wearing the cutest smiley face panties. I imagined her with something more mature on. I said nothing as I slid them down her long legs.

I thought she would be perfectly shaved, like me, but instead had stubble growing. I thought it very sexy. Queen bee needed a shave. She lifted her right leg and placed it on a table. I lingered a few seconds to take it all in. My head was spinning. I reached a finger out. She moaned. I was on my knees. Ready to service Gretel. I licked, kissed and licked some more. I felt clumsy, but her moans made me go on. I drove my tongue as deep as her tightness would allow. She moved her hips to my licking. In a wild moment or pure satisfaction, she came after about 10 minutes.

The queen of the hive let out the most wonderful nectar. I was expecting her to recline on some chair as I would massage her shoulders or her feet, but she had other plans.

“Your turn.” She said. “Sit on the chair.”

With her pussy still wet, she proceeded to pull down my shorts. She caressed me through my panties. She was teasing me with her long fingers. Finally she pulled them down over my flip-flops.

“Spread you legs.” She said.

“While I felt a certain satisfaction in the breast competition, her bubble butt was more than worthy of all the attention it had received over the years. My heart shaped butt could certainly hold it’s own, but this was something magnificent. She started a lap dance on my already wet pussy. She moved her butt as though there was hip hop music playing. I thrust my hips to match her rhythm. I could not believe this was happening. I had my hands on her hips, feeling her smooth skin. Gretel had no blemishes. I was being dominated by her perfect butt. She turned around and looked into my eyes.

“Is this what you came for?” She said.

She was now dragging her right foot along the floor like when she pitched and ran as much of her leg as possible across my pussy. She repeated her trademark move over and over as my head spun. Her legs were strong from all the sports she played. I moaned. I flung my head around. I was in the most amazing spot and never wanted to leave. I finally through my head back and experienced the greatest orgasm I have ever had. Gretel had performed for me. She spent me and she knew it.

Our embrace seemed bittersweet. There was something loving about it, yet it felt like it was over while it had just started. We got dressed and exchanged panties and shoes. We kissed goodbye. I felt so cool walking home in her sandals.

A week or so later I went to see her in the playoffs. Even though she lost 3-2, she was awesome that day. She even acknowledged me from afar. She waved and said, “hey, Pam.”

“It would be great to say we were lovers after that, but we weren’t. School ended. Gretel was caught up in graduation parties. She was recruited to play at some school in Ohio. I stayed home and went to a local University. I never saw her again. From time to time I wear her panties and I still have her sandals in the back of my closet. I always miss her.

I recently joined Facebook and it wasn’t long before we found each other. She admits it was a wonderful moment in her life. She still looks amazing and has admitted to a breast job. I think about her every day now. We are going to make plans to see each other again. We have some catching up to do.

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