My Fantasy Girl

This story is totally true within the limits of my memory. Even the names of the main characters are unchanged. Throughout the story I use italics to show my thoughts while with others and bold letters for sub-headings.

FIRST SIGHTING

The first time I saw my fantasy girl I was thirty-eight years old! Thirty-eight and married! Married, with three children!

It was November 1974. As an employee of a large management consulting company I was just starting a new project to design a computerized production planning system for a small manufacturing company

in central Pennsylvania.

As I rounded the corner in the L-shaped hallway of the office building, I saw two young, short, petite women about six steps ahead of me. I slowed my stride to match theirs while I admired them from behind. One was wearing jeans -- not high-style fashion jeans, just work jeans, but they fit her well. However, it was the other one who got my attention. She was wearing what was absolutely the shortest miniskirt I had ever seen in an office environment.

It was a full skirt made of a black, shiny, stiff fabric, possibly a taffeta. It was very fitted at the waist, then flared out over her hips and butt, and remained out in an A shape. The hem was no more than 2 or 3 inches below her crotch. Her legs, encased in a medium shade pantyhose, were as shapely as any I'd ever seen.

Short girls, even attractive ones, do not often have really nice legs; they are either too thin or the thighs are too fat or the proportion of the lower leg (from the foot to the knee) to the upper leg (from the knee to the hip) is not quite right. But these legs could have been used in a Hanes ad. The calf muscles were well defined but not athlete's muscles; the thighs were full enough but not fat, and they were perfectly proportioned.

She was wearing 3 inch heels, not stilettos but regular lace-up shoes with full heels. This style was fairly popular in the mid-70s; I always thought they were klutzy-looking, but they were practical.

When I finally raised my eyes above her waist I admired her overall shape and her hair, especially her hair. The color was a dark brown, with a rich, lustrous shine to it. It was straight down to her shoulders, then curled inward in a pageboy, a style which had been very popular in the 50's but was not common in the 70's. Above her skirt she wore a beige colored sweater.

The girls stopped at the second of two doors leading into the customer service department with miss miniskirt turning her back to the door while continuing their conversation. As I reached them I followed one of the principles taught to me in "Consulting 101" when I first joined my firm.. We were told to be friendly to everyone because, especially in the small town plants, you never knew who was related to whom; the lowest level clerk or janitor might be a relative of the plant manager.

So as I walked by them I turned my head and said "Good Morning". Having been interrupted, they turned to face me and returned the greeting. During the second or so I was facing them I took a mental photograph of miss miniskirt. As I continued down the hallway I "developed the photo".

Although she did several things to break it up, her face was round, very round - Charlie Brown with hair - beautiful lustrous hair. The pageboy continued around her head, but in the front both sides curled under her chin, a style made famous a few years later when Jennifer Anniston wore the same exact style on the TV show, Friends. In the front she had straight bangs down to her eyebrows with a center part behind the bangs. She wore glasses; thin, light blue plastic frames, a style popular at that time. Her hairstyle and the shape of the glasses helped offset the roundness of her face. Her nose was small and nicely shaped, but did not attract attention because her mouth did! Her lips were larger than I could recall on any other white girl I'd ever seen. Remember, this was before the age of Botox and the desire for large lips so common today.

All-in-all, she was very attractive but not beautiful, not in the classic sense. And she was obviously very young. I knew she had to be eighteen to work there but, especially with that tiny skirt, she looked like a junior high school student headed for class.

When I reached my destination, the data processing department, and met with Tom Chambers, the department head who would be doing the computer programming on my project, I told him about miss miniskirt. "Oh", he said. "you met Lissa. Actually, her name is Melissa but everyone calls her Lissa. Aint she a livin' doll?"

That's it, the perfect description. That really short skirt, that round face, those oversized lips, that beautiful not-a strand-out-of-place hair! Those are common features for a doll but not for a person. She's a living doll!

"Yes, she sure is. And now to a more boring subject." And with that we went to work. Later that day I went to the men's room and masturbated while thinking of Melissa.

SOME BACKGROUND ON ME AND MY ODDITIES

I did not immediately think of Melissa as my fantasy girl. She was just one more in a long line of girls, hundreds probably, that I'd seen over the years who matched the image I carried in my head. It was actually pretty simple. My ideal girl was short, petite, and attractive. I didn't have a preference on the color of her hair or eyes, or even whether or not she wore glasses.

It's probably obvious!! I'm short, maybe 5' 5" if I stand up really straight!

I've always been shorter than my peers. In elementary school where the teachers tended to seat us by size I always got the first desk in the first row. I was also younger than everyone else, having started when I was 5 and then skipped a year from 3

rd

to 4

th

grade. I was also always the smartest which did not win me any friends as I was the type of "brain" who nauseated my classmates by prefacing my answer with "oh, that's easy" before answering a question that no one else could answer.

My family moved frequently so I was constantly forced to make new friends. Outside the classroom I was popular amongst the boys as I was a pretty good athlete despite my size. As for the girls, they never liked me.

My mother bought lots of movie magazines like "Silver Screen" and "Photoplay". Those were the forerunners to magazines like "People" and "Us" today. I looked at them, always preferring the shorter movie stars. June Haver and Jane Powell were two of my favorites. Stars like Jane Russell and Anita Ekberg didn't turn me on at all. When I was about 8 or 9 I started humping the bed while thinking of some of these movie stars. I didn't understand what I was doing but it seemed to give me pleasure.

When I reached puberty and started to ejaculate my mother yelled at me about messing up the sheets so I moved my masturbation activities to the bathroom. As I began to notice pretty girls at school I started to think of them sometimes instead of the movie stars as my masturbation inspirations.

In high school(which I started when I was 12) I was teased constantly. I was still the shortest student in my class, even shorter than any of the girls. I still had an outgoing personality when in a group, but I became withdrawn around girls. As the others started dating I could not bring myself to ask a girl out as much as I wanted to. I was afraid that she might not only say no, but ridicule me as well. Then the others would pick up on it and tease me even more. And of course my taste only ran to the best-looking short girls, the ones most likely to say no to a short, dumpy-looking (not fat but overweight), four-eyed geek like me. So when I graduated at 16, I'd never had a date, had never even kissed a girl.

In college I joined a fraternity during the pledge period of my freshman year in hopes that the extra social activities would enable me to meet girls more easily. However the fraternity I joined turned out to be the "Animal House" of my college. I had a lot of fun at the beer bashes but we never had successful mixers with any of the sororities.

I was studying Chemical Engineering, a five-year cooperative education program, commuting from my parents house in suburban New Jersey, but at the end of my second year my father took a job in Alabama and I was forced out of school financially. I moved in with my older brother and his family in Virginia because he said I'd be able to get a job at the shipyard in Newport News.

I was hired at a pay rate higher than my brother's even though he was a four-year army veteran and had five years experience at the shipyard. Realizing what two years of college was worth, I became determined to return to school as soon as possible to earn a degree.

My brother was even more into sports than I was. We played basketball and bowled during the winter, then moved onto Softball for the summer. The local recreation department manager asked my brother if he would manage one of the girl's softball teams. Naturally, I helped him.

I was now nineteen, did not have a driver's license, and had still never dated. My sister-in-law made me her project!!

The next-door neighbors were about the same age as my brother and his wife. The wife had a younger sister who was going to spend the summer with them to establish residence so she could go to Warwick High School in the fall instead of Newport News High. She was fourteen, headed into her freshman year. Betty, my sister-in-law, convinced the girl to play softball on our team. She was terrible but this was just a ploy concocted by the two women to get us together. And it worked.

Maryann was about my height, had a very pretty face and a body that was well developed for a fourteen year old. She asked me to go to the movies with her and another couple. I was such a dolt that I didn't even know how to hold hands with a girl; I held it like we were shaking hands.

We kissed on our second date, no tongue of course. I was embarrassed because I got an erection. We were in the back seat of her friends car and I tried to position myself so that my body did not contact hers. Eventually I improved a little and we dated all summer, all double-dates because I still had no car and no license. We also kissed some more but we never french-kissed and I was always embarrassed when I got an erection.

She broke up with me on Labor Day. "I'm starting high school tomorrow" she said, "and I'll be meeting lots of new people and I want to be free to do things with them. I've enjoyed the summer but I don't want to continue dating you." I was heartbroken. I suggested we see each other but not go steady, but she wasn't having any of it.

My bedroom faced her sister's house so I often saw her coming home from dates; it was very painful. Then, about three weeks after she broke up with me, I bumped into the boy we had double-dated with. He told me the real reason she dropped me was that I was too immature. Imagine, at nineteen I was too immature for a fourteen year old. And, she was right!!!

But the ice had been broken. I got my driver's license and bought a car. I got up the nerve to ask a few girls out, but none of my dates developed into relationships. I still had very little confidence and none of the girls I dated fit my ideal. They were attractive but usually they were as tall as I was.

One in particular that I'll never forget was one I met in a bowling alley. She was the best-looking girl I ever dated, even to this day. I thought she was about my height but when I picked her up for our first date, even though she wore flats, she was about two inches taller than I was. Then she made the killer comment, "Oh, you're shorter than I thought you were." Being very conscious of my height, I felt so bad I just wanted to end the date as soon as possible. I took her to an out-of-the-way place for pizza, but of course we bumped into some guys I knew from work. The next day they gave me a hard time. I accidentally bumped into her a couple of years later, at which time she was working as a fashion model. We had a good laugh about our tragic date.

I returned to college in the fall of 1957 and met my wife-to-be on Friday of the first week. She and another girl were sitting with some of my fraternity brothers in the school cafeteria when I went to lunch. I was introduced to them and spent the whole afternoon talking with Joan, cutting an EE lab in the process. This was the first girl I'd ever met that I could talk with comfortably. When we both stood at the same time I saw that she was about my height. She was very attractive and had a good figure but she was not petite. So she didn't quite match that ideal I carried in my head either.

We spent a lot of time together over the next six weeks, mostly in a group, but I did not ask her for a true date until Homecoming Weekend. After that I had just one date with another girl, during my next work-study time in Virginia.

Joan and I got married over the Christmas vacation of our senior year(1959). Our wedding had been planned for spring break three months later but Joan got pregnant just two months after we started having intercourse so we advanced the timetable.

Our marriage was solid, if not spectacular. We saw eye-to-eye on almost everything and seldom argued. The only sore point was sex. After the first couple of years (and kids) Joan was happy with a frequency of a couple of times per month while I was always horny. I started masturbating on a daily basis like I did as a teenager.

I worked as an engineer during the sixties, but became disgruntled as I did not like the path my career was taking. I took a few basic business courses at night but it would take at least five years to get an MBA. With Joan's blessing I became a full-time student at Wharton ( part of the University of Pennsylvania).

Joan had been a stay-at-home mom (we now had three kids) but had to work while I went to school so that we could maintain a satisfactory life-style. She taught sixth grade, but since her degree was in Home Economics, not Education, she had to simultaneously take courses herself. She had a hectic schedule while I had the life of a student. I helped out a little, grading papers for her, but I am no help around the house, so she had to get the kids going in the morning (the oldest two were in third and first grades, the youngest spent the day at a neighbor's house), pick up all three when she got home, then fix dinner before going to her evening class.

She had her hair cut very short to save the time it took to manage long hair. I hated it but I had to accept this as a small price to pay for what she had to do.

I accepted a job in Atlanta with a major management consulting firm when I graduated. We had a nice house built in Dunwoody, a northern suburb, and started living our modest version of the dream life. Both of us had gained some weight while I was in school. I went up to 170 but quickly dropped back down to about 155, still about 15 pounds overweight. I don't know what Joan's weight was but she went from a perfect size 10(34-24-34) when we were in undergraduate school to a size 12 and even 14 in some items. I tried to get her to lose some weight and let her hair grow back out, but she did neither. Naturally our sex life, already not good, suffered even more. I masturbated more than ever.

Joan and I had not had sex for several months when I started the project in Pennsylvania. The more I got on her about her weight the more resentful she became. Everything else was still fine but our interpersonal relationship was a shambles. I believed we were headed for a divorce.

AN UNLIKELY SERIES OF EVENTS

Some people talk about coincidences while others say everything is fate. I've never decided which is correct but some things happened which individually didn't mean anything, but taken together changed my life.

The first one was on my next visit to the company in Pennsylvania in mid-December. I was working in the conference room, which was next to the Chief Executive Officer(CEO)s office on the short leg of the L-shaped office area. James Easterly, the head of customer service came by and stuck his head in the door. " I'm glad you're here Bob. All the outside salesmen are here for our semi-annual meeting and I'm having a cocktail party for them at my house this evening. I'd like you to come if you're free. I'm sure they would like hearing about the new system you're designing because it really should help them."

It was always an honor to be invited to an activity of the client company as it was a sign that you were accepted. So of course I went to James' cocktail party.

At one time during the evening I was in a small group that included James and three or four of the salesmen, when one of them said, "James, you old dog, how'd you ever get such a babe as that Lissa?" Another one chimed in "yeah, she's a real living doll!"

There it is again, the perfect description of Melissa -- a real living doll.

James answered, "Yes, she's very attractive but don't mess with her. She's one tough little lady. She's twenty-three and -" "Twenty-three?" That was me practically choking on my drink! "Here I was worried you were violating the child labor laws."

"Oh, no" he went on. "She's twenty-three and has a seven year old daughter. Her parents were very strict with her and wouldn't let her date or even go out in mixed groups, so of course she started sneaking around. The first boy she started seeing got her pregnant at the age of fifteen. She dropped out of school after her sophomore year. They got married, he went into the navy, and they were out in San Diego when things went bad. He abused her, verbally at first but then it got physical. Finally she got a divorce and came back home to her parents. She's been hurt badly so she's hard and bitter."

That was the end of the discussion of Melissa but it got me thinking, even though twenty-three is very young for a thirty-eight year old, with the life experiences she's had, she's really older and I'd like to get to know her.

I wouldn't have thought like that just a few months ago. In fifteen years of marriage I'd never ever thought of cheating on Joan. I had never kissed another woman, taken one to dinner, or even danced with one. Of course, when I thought rationally, I had to admit that a large part of my faithfulness was due to the fact that I didn't appeal to women, especially the ones that you see at the clubs and lounges.

Christmas was always a big deal at our house and 1974 was no different. Joan's parents and younger brother came several days before Christmas and stayed until several days after. I took vacation time the week between Christmas and New Year's Day as I always did so I could play with all the new stuff the kids got.

Finally, I returned to Pennsylvania the Monday after New Year's day. I took the early-bird flight to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton airport and picked up a rental car. We were Avis' biggest customer in Atlanta so we got treated well. Our standard reservation was for a compact if we did not have a group traveling together but if Avis saw they were going to run short on compacts they would give us an upgrade. On this particular day I got a sporty Oldsmobile. I don't recall if it was a top-of-the-line Cutlass or if it had a separate model name but it was the only car I ever saw that had swiveling bucket seats. At that time Oldsmobile advertised its step-down design which they insisted had advantages but also had the disadvantage of making it difficult for a woman to get in and out gracefully if she was wearing a dress. Of course the swivel seats overcame this disadvantage. Olds dropped this feature a couple of years later, probably for safety reasons. So, was the nice rental car a coincidence or fate?

Monday went by without incident but when I arrived at the office Tuesday morning about 10 minutes after the workday began the receptionist told me the conference room was being used so the CEO had arranged for me to stay in the customer service department which had several empty desks. She told me Mr. Easterly was expecting me. Coincidence or fate?