girlfriends

A2Z Challenge — The Letter Z

Fandango10 Comments

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends. I can not believe we’ve reached the end of April and the end of the alphabet already!

Z is for Zoey H.

When I completed my active duty as an army medic, I continued my military service as a “weekend warrior” in the army reserves. I would spend one weekend a month assigned to a psychiatric ward at the Walter Reed Hospital caring for a lot of soldiers back from Vietnam suffering from PTSD and other psychiatric issues.

In civilian life I grew my hair too long to be able to show up for my monthly reserve duty, so had to make some choices. I could either get a monthly haircut that would pass military hair requirements or I could buy a men’s wig and use bobby pins to hold my long hair in place while I put a short cut men’s wig — not a toupee but a whole head wig — over my hair.

I honestly didn’t know if my wig was fooling anybody, but nobody said anything to me when I reported for duty.

Anyway, there was a cute military nurse named Zoey who worked on the psych ward and she would occasionally be on duty the same weekends that I was pulling my monthly gig. The first time I was on the ward when she was there we chatted a little bit and she was very nice to be around. She wasn’t there the next two monthly reserve weekends I worked, but she was there the following time I pulled duty.

She remembered me, said hi, and then gave me a strange look. “Are you wearing a wig?” she asked. Then she reached up and pushed some long hairs that had apparently escaped the confines of my wig back up underneath the wig. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

A few hours later she saw me again and ordered me to follow her into a storage room. “Take it off,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Your wig,” she clarified. “Take it off because you have a lot of hair sticking out from under it.” I look off my wig to reveal a head of thick wavy hair beneath it. She took a minute before reacting, but then she started running her fingers through my hair and said, “Oh, this makes me hot,” and she started kissing me. I said she had to stop because I needed to be on the ward, and she gave me one more kiss and then expertly used the bobby pins to secure my real hair tightly to my head and then put the wig back on my head. She then stood back and said, “Much better,” and then patted me on my ass as I was leaving the storage room.

That was Saturday. I was back on Sunday and so was Zoey. This time I had done a better job putting on my wig and I was confident that no long hairs were sticking out from under my wig. Zoey was very friendly again, but we focused on doing our respective jobs.

Until mid-afternoon when Zoey came up to me and asked if I could give her a hand in the storage room. After we were in the storage room she closed and locked the door and literally ripped the wig off of my head and started running her hands through my hair while kissing me passionately on the mouth. Then she stopped, got down on her knees, unhooked my belt, unbuttoned my fly, pulled down my underpants and….

Afterwards she spent a few minutes getting my wig back in place.

For my next two monthly weekends at Walter Reed, Zoey made sure she was working those weekends, too, and our encounters in the storage room had evolved to having sex on both Saturdays and Sundays. And she always made sure my wig looked perfect afterwards.

The next weekend I went to Walter Reed, Zoey was not there. I asked another nurse if she knew if Zoey would be coming in. The nurse gave me a knowing look and said that Zoey had transferred to a U.S. military hospital in Germany. Then she added, “Yes, her husband who was a doctor here at Walter Reed, got transferred to that hospital, and as his wife, she of course, went with him to Germany.” The nurse emphasized the word “wife.”

I had no idea that Zoey was married, much less to an army doctor at Walter Reed!

Previous 2024 A2Z posts: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y

A2Z Challenge — The Letter X

Fandango3 Comments

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

X is for Xin C.

I bet you didn’t think I had ever gone out with a girl whose name started with the letter “X,” but you’d have been wrong. Xin was a Chinese girl that I went out with for a few months during my junior year in college. She pronounced her name like Sheen, but she anglicized it to Jean to make it easier on everyone else.

Xin (or Jean) was, like me, a first-generation American and her parents raised her and her sister in a very traditional Chinese manner. I met her parents once and was surprised that, although they could understand and speak English, in their home no one did. They all spoke Chinese all the time. Xin had started kindergarten in American schools, so her English was perfect with no hint of an accent.

I met Xin in one of my classes and thought she was about the most exotic-looking young woman I’d ever seen in real life. We talked a bit in class and I found out that she was a speech and communication major with a focus on broadcast journalism, which intrigued me. I spent a lot of time asking her about her life, her major, and her future. After a few weeks we started dating and for a time it was great. We would talk for hours and hours and she was one of the most interesting and intelligent girls I’d ever gone out with and I loved the time we spent together.

We seemed to be about equally attracted to each other and the physical aspect of our relationship added a whole new and exciting dimension. However, there were limitations imposed by Xin’s heritage. She absolutely would not have sexual intercourse until she was married. We did just about everything else a couple could do sexually without going all the way, but it still, in me, anyway, left something to be desired. I was feeling unfulfilled and I know she was too. But she was immovable.

I was a junior in college and admittedly immature, so I was nowhere near even contemplating marriage. But not being able to have sex with her was driving me crazy. One night we were naked in bed. I was on top of her and we were making out, and I could easily have penetrated her, but I suddenly realized that if I had, it would be tantamount to rape, and I wouldn’t be able be able to live with myself. So I stopped, got off of her, got dressed, told Xin to get dressed, and drove her home.

Xin and I remained friendly after that, but we never went out on a real date again. She said she understood why we had to stop seeing each other, but she confessed later on that she wanted me inside of her that night as much as I wanted to be, but she was glad that I stopped before it happened.

Previous 2024 A2Z posts: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W

A2Z Challenge — The Letter W

Fandango4 Comments

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

W is for Wendy C.

Do you remember a few days ago when I was telling you about Stopwatch Sally? Well, I met Wendy through Sally. Shortly before that incident where Sally slammed down the receiver on her telephone so hard that I was sure she must have broken the base unit of her phone, I was over at Sally’s house to pick her up for a date. When I came to the door of her house where she lived with her parents, Sally invited me in and asked me if I minded if her cousin, Wendy, could tag along.

Sally explained that Wendy’s parents were moving into a new house in the area because her father had just accepted a position as the editor of a well-known business magazine. Her parents asked Sally’s parents if Wendy could stay with them while Wendy’s parents were getting things settled in their new house.

Anyway, after I agreed to let Wendy come with us, Sally called out to Wendy, who was upstairs in Sally’s bedroom and Wendy came walking down the stairs from the second floor. She took my breath away, that’s how beautiful she was. Like Sally, she was a junior in high school, but not at the same school Sally was going to.

I know that Sally was getting pissed because I was paying so much attention to Wendy that night. Of course, I didn’t know that less than a week later Sally and I would have a big blow-up. When Sally excused herself to go to the restroom, I asked Wendy for her phone number, but she didn’t have it because the landline at her new home hadn’t been installed yet — and cell phones were still nearly half a century away from becoming ubiquitous. Wendy asked me for my phone number and promised to call me when her phone was installed.

Wendy did call me a few days after the Sally incident. “My cousin told me she dumped you,” Wendy said. I admitted to doing something I regretted and Wendy said, “If you ever were to talk about me the way you talked about Sally, I’d dump you too, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you learned your lesson.”

So Wendy and I started dating, but she was nothing like her cousin. I was only a freshman in college, but I was truly smitten and thought Wendy could be “the one.” Sure, we would make out and go at it pretty hot and heavy, but we never got past third base, even after dating her for the better part of a year.

During the summer before my sophomore year at college and her senior year in high school, her parents rented a place on the ocean at Fenwick Island in Delaware. I was invited by Wendy to spend a week there with her, her sister, and her mother. Her father had to stay behind in DC for his job at the magazine. I was sure that I was going to “consummate” our relationship during that week.

So when we had an opportunity to go all the way, we did. And it was everything I’d hoped it would be. Except, I sensed that this wasn’t her first rodeo. I asked her about that and she admitted that she’d had sex once before. She also admitted that there was a guy at her high school that she was also seeing. He was a jock, the captain of the football team and shit like that. His name was Derek.

Right after Wendy and I had sex, I told her that I loved her. She said she loved me too. Then she said, “But there is someone else I love more than you.”

“Derek?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s Derek. I’m so sorry.”

It took me a long time to get over Wendy.

Previous 2024 A2Z posts: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V

A2Z Challenge — The Letter V

Fandango5 Comments

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

V is for Vicky D.

When I was in the ninth grade my “girlfriend” was Vicky. When I say she was my girlfriend that meant that we hung out together at school, would get together at her place some days after school, and if her older sister was willing to drive us, we would occasionally go to a movie on weekends. She was a very pretty girl but was a little on the chunky side and all we ever did that entire year sexually was make out. I remember a few times she let me feel her up over her blouse and bra, and one time I wanted her to touch me, so I grabbed her hand and put it between my legs, but she immediately removed it.

Anyway, after we finished ninth grade and graduated from junior high school, we lost touch. She and I went to different high schools and, well, you know how it is. I thought that I’d probably never see her again. But one night, when I was a sophomore in college, my phone rang, and when I answered it and said hello, I heard a female’s voice ask me if I was the guy in junior high school who had a thing with Vicky D.

“Vicky, is that you?” I asked and we quickly established that it was the same Vicky. She told me that I had popped into her head the other day when she was thinking back to ninth grade and was wondering how I was doing.

We talked on the phone for about an hour and she asked if she could come over to my place. I lived off-campus in a two-bedroom apartment with another guy, but told her I’d be happy to see her. We made arrangements for the coming Friday night for her to stop by and I convinced my roommate to plan to stay somewhere else that night. Just in case. I figured I was going to get laid that night. Why else after all those years would she want to come to my apartment rather than meet for coffee or for drinks or for dinner.

Friday night came around and at precisely 8 pm, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, Vicky smiled, walked in and we hugged. She looked great. She now had long blonde hair in a Farrah Fawcett style even before the show “Charlie’s Angels” had aired its first episode. And she was most definitely no longer chunky.

I had gotten some pretzels and chips for us to snack on and beer to drink. The conversation between us seemed a bit awkward at first, but when we started reminiscing about our time in the ninth grade, we both became more relaxed.

I was in college and she was working at a doctor’s office as a medical secretary. We changed the topic of conversation from the ninth grade to what we were doing with our lives at the time and it became quickly apparent to both of us that we had very little in common and very different visions for where we saw ourselves in the future. So by close to midnight, Vicky looked at her watch and said she’d best be going.

I suggested if she was tired or had a few too many beers she was invited to spend the night. I was hoping that she might be up for some intimacy, but she thanked me for the offer, and that that it was not going to happen. And that was the last time I saw Vicky D.

As a bonus today, I’m linking to a post I wrote a while back titled “My First Vagina.” Even though the name of the girl involved in this story didn’t start with the letter V, the word “vagina” does. If you’re at all interested my reaction to seeing a vagina for the first time, click here.

Previous 2024 A2Z posts: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U

A2Z Challenge — The Letter T

Fandango14 Comments

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

T is for Tina B.

Tina was a little bit of a slut. She always form-fitting clothes that accentuated her hourglass figure and she had a reputation for flirting with the male teachers, although I can’t say with confidence that any actually succumbed to her abundant charms.

Anyway, Tina was a junior and I was a senior. About three weeks before senior prom, a girl I’d been dating for a few months dumped me, and I suddenly found myself in need of a prom date. The school rumor mill had it that Tina was trying to find a senior who would take her to the prom. So I called her and asked her if she would like to go to the prom with me and she said yes, she would.

I don’t know what was going on inside my head, but I didn’t spend any time with her before senior prom. She was really not my type and basically she was just a filler. My two best friends (the same ones who worked at the soda fountain where I met Quinn, the girl I lost my virginity to) had suggested we go to the prom and afterward drive to Ocean City, spend the night there with our dates, spend the day on the beach, and then drive back the next night. I explained the plan to Tina and she was all for it.

Prom night arrived. I had on my best suit (possibly my only suit, actually), and Tina wore a dress that made her look like Jessica Rabbit!

She also had an overnight bag with casual clothes to change into after prom and her bathing suit.

Prom was nice and all, but I was looking forward to what would come next. After prom, we went over to my buddy’s house and everyone changed for the three-hour drive to Ocean City. We got there at around 4 am and went out onto the beach, spread our blankets out, leaving about 15 yards between blankets for “privacy.”

Within a few minutes, my two best friends were at it hot and heavy with their respective girls, but while Tina and I made out, she said she didn’t feel comfortable making love so close to the other two couples and I was too tired to push her, so we fell asleep in each others arms.

The next day we used public restrooms to wash up and change into our swimwear. We left the beach at around three, stopped at a restaurant for dinner, and got back to our local stomping grounds by around 8:00 that night. I drove Tina home, went inside, and she asked me if I’d like to stay for a while. Her mother, who was divorced, wasn’t home, and Tina went upstairs to “slip into something more comfortable.”

Ten minutes later I heard Tina call my name so I walked to the bottom of the stairs, looked up, and saw Tina standing at the landing on the second floor wearing a robe. Suddenly she opened her robe and then let it drop to the floor. Seeing her naked body, I ran up the steps and followed her into her bedroom. Within a matter of minutes, we were passionately making love.

Then someone pushed open her bedroom door and shouted, “Christina!” Christina was her real name but she went by Tina. Then, not having time to react and pull out of Tina, I felt these powerful arms literally pulling me up and off and out of Tina and throwing me on the floor. Tina’s mother was a large woman and she was in a rage.

I tried to grab my clothes, but Tina’s mother was pushing me out of the bedroom toward the stairs. I was afraid she was going to throw me down the stairs, so I got my balance and ran down the stairs. When I reached the landing, Tina’s mother had thrown down my shirt, pants, and shoes. Then, at the top of her lungs, she screamed, “Get out of my house.” I did.

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