We did pretty much everything else that we could think of. Seeing her totally naked for the first time… the first real naked girl that I had ever seen. The image is still burned into my brain.
Michelle’s breasts were like two nice size apples. Each with a cherry-red nipple that were surrounded by quarter-size rust colored areola, sitting on a smooth landscape of cream-colored skin. Her hips wide. Her puffy Mound of Venus covered with a soft wispy patch of soft brown fur.
We had fun. I pleasured her with my fingers. She applied her ‘hand-job’ skills to my cock. We experienced, and enjoyed, a couple of firsts. We showered together and slept together naked the one night we had. We expressed our love and devotion for each other many times. Then, she parted late Sunday morning.
Around the middle of spring quarter, April, to be exact, her letters started to become less frequent and shorter. What used to be maybe every other day, became twice a week. And what used to be a couple of pages became maybe a page, if she wrote in large letters.
When I got home for the summer, Michelle was ‘cool’ at our first get together, which really surprised me. Our ‘play’ time consisted of only some short make out time, claiming ‘it was her time’ and that her breasts were tender. Thing was, ‘her time’ lasted for a couple of weeks. She started making excuses for not getting together on the weekends.
Alarms started going off in my head. We weren’t arguing, or anything, we never really did. It’s just that she wasn’t into ‘us’ like she used to be. She started to ask me to take her home earlier, ending our evening. I was getting frustrated and didn’t know what to do, or what was going on in her head. My experience in reading girls was non-existent.
Then, during one phone call, when I was trying to set something up for the weekend, Michelle says, “Bill, I know we haven’t really been getting along recently. Can we just take a break for a couple of weeks? It’s not you… it’s me. I’m just going through a rough time right now, and need some alone time.”
That hit me like a ton of bricks. It was something that I never expected. What was I going to say to that? It was the longest two weeks of my life. I didn’t know what to expect at the end of that time. I hoped, and prayed, that we would start going out again. Me… the eternal optimist.
Two weeks, on the dot, I called and got, “Bill, let’s just keep it this way.”
I was just dumped. Didn’t know why, but, I suspected. She had met another guy, from the time she had visited me to now. My heart ached for weeks. I never tried to connect with her. In a small town, you would have thought that our paths would have crossed at some point. Never happened. So, I just accepted it and moved on. But, I still had a big hole in my heart. It was the first time that I ever had my heart broken. I made a promise to myself to be more careful in the future.
………………………………
“Hi Michelle.”
The moment that Michelle realized who was standing in front of her, her eyes did go wide and gave me an extended warm embrace that lasted longer than was necessary, in my opinion. It brought back a lot of memories… a lot of memories. Including those last few of weeks. I know that I was not as enthusiastic in my return embrace.
While it was nice to see her after all this time, my heart wasn’t in it, and I was positive that it showed. If I smiled, it was barely there. I don’t know how the tone of my voice sounded to her. From my side, I was sure that there was very little, if any, warmth in it. Right then, all I wanted to do is get the stuff my mom needed, and leave. But I tried to, at least, be nice and friendly. That’s basically who I am.
“So, I take it that you need some vitamins,” her previous enthusiasm subsiding, as I think she was picking up on my inner feelings.
“They’re for my mom. Here’s what I need,” as I handed her a list
I watched for a few minutes as she quietly moved along the shelves and got what I needed. My eyes were drawn to her round bottom and smooth legs. She always did have a nice firm butt and toned ‘runner’s’ legs.
She rang it up, and I handed her the cash. Handing me my change, her hand lingered on mine. I don’t know if it was intentional, or not; but, it felt nice. Our eyes met, as we did a prolonged stare at each other, as she handed me the bag. It was then that I saw the wedding ring. No engagement ring, just a simple gold band.
“Bill,” hesitating, and taking a breath, “I don’t know what I want to do here,” her voice soft almost a whisper as she broke eye contact and looked down, as if embarrassed by our brief touch and eye contact.
“Part of me tells me to just let you walk out the door. Part of me wants to talk to you. I think I owe you an explanation,” her voice soft, almost apologetic.
“Michelle, you don’t owe me anything,” I could feel my voice and tone warming a bit. I mean, what’s the point of being cold and bitter. It wasn’t my nature. What’s done is done. There’s nothing that I can do about it. Still, a lot of memories were coming back… some good… some not.
By now, she was looking up at me with sad eyes.
“You met someone else while I was in school. I get it. I still had two more years of school, and then the possibility of getting drafted. I couldn’t be here for you. I couldn’t even attend your graduation. I couldn’t even take you to school dances your senior year. You were lonely.”
“Can we sit and talk? Do you have time? I mean, if you need to be some place, then OK. I understand.”
It was still early afternoon, so I figured, ‘why not?’. What could it hurt? She already looked like something was weighing heavily on her shoulders. Something that she was internally struggling with. Trying to decide if she wanted to go there. But, she had taken the first step, in asking if I could stay for a while. To this day, I can’t explain it, or explain what I did next.
“No. I don’t have anything planned. Let me call my mom to let her know I’ll be a bit late.”
“Ok. Let me make us some tea.”
Sitting on the couch, we sat a comfortable distance apart. Not close, but, not at the opposite ends of the sofa. It was quiet for a few minutes. I could tell that she was gathering her thoughts.
Then, her voice soft, almost a whisper, as she looked down at her lap with her hands folded.
“I didn’t want to hurt you. I tried to be gentle. I really did care about you, even though, I didn’t show it. I’m sorry. My girlfriends said there is no ‘gentle’ way to tell a boyfriend, that you want to break up with him.”
“Michelle…Yes, it did hurt,” my voice soft, “My heart ached for weeks. But, thinking back, I realized that you did it about as gentle as you could… still.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I could tell that tears were imminent, “Bill, it was the hardest thing that I ever had to do.”
That got my attention.
“What do you mean… had to do?”
She swallowed hard. Looked at me with sorrowful eyes. Then her voice soft.
“I’ll get to that in a bit.”
I watched her, as she again looked down to gather her thoughts, and regained her composure.