As an avid reader myself of "first time" experiences and the like, I most often read those types of stories as I find them erotically entertaining. As I travel a bit during the course of my business affairs, I tend to print out a few stories in order to have something to read while I'm on the plane, or just sitting around inside my hotel room. After checking in on one particular short trip, I was doing just that, finishing one story I had started reading on the flight in. I'd gotten rather caught up in reading it as it was one that was very similar to my own growing up, silly girlish games perhaps back then. But even now in reading and remembering back, I was growing very wet between the legs.
Having arrived a day early, I had pretty much a free day ahead of me and had decided to go out and sit by the pool. Intending to soak up some sun, and read another story or two perhaps. I knew then I'd spend the evening in my room ordering room service, sneaking a peek at the adult fare on TV, and no doubt enjoy a nice long soothing finger-fuck before going to sleep.
I was sitting in one of the lounge chairs reading, enjoying a nice little white wine, and getting thoroughly worked up (albeit secretly) when a familiar voice spoke surprising the hell out of me when I heard it. Shielding my eyes with my hand from the sun as I glanced up, even then it was difficult to see who it was that was standing there in front of me, even though the sound of her voice sounded all too familiar.
"Oh my god! Is that you? Debra Jackson?" The woman asked.
Admittedly I was a bit embarrassed and at a loss for words. She obviously knew me, though from where and when I couldn't remember. But the way she had said it, she was something far more than a client or customer I'd once met. This sounded far more friendly, and I still hadn't been able to get as clear a look at her as she had of me.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, blushing and embarrassed that I had no clue as to who she was. Hearing her laugh the way she did, put the familiarity of her on the tip of my tongue, though I still struggled with it. And the fact that her face was still hidden from me in the bright sunlight didn't help either.
"Christine Davies," she said introducing herself, though even that name didn't ring any bells. "Though that is my married name now," she added. "Still don't remember me do you?" She laughed once again, that laugh haunting, teasing my memories as I struggled in vain to remember who she was. "Let me give you a hint, and then see if you can remember," she told me giggling. "How about...Light Switch?"
The moment she said that, it all came flooding back to me, eons ago now since I had last seen her it seemed like. She'd been (well nearly anyway) my best friend growing up next door since we were toddlers, until she had turned fifteen or maybe sixteen perhaps, and her parents had then moved away. We'd communicated for a while after that, but eventually time and our own busy personal lives had interfered. I'd never seen or spoken to her again, which meant it had been nearly thirty years since I'd seen her last.
"Oh my God! Christy!" I said shortening her name to the one I'd always known and called her by. "Christy Stevens!"
"Or C.S," as you used to call me," she said reminding me. A name I had given her secretly, privately. Her initials obviously, but not the meaning. It had stood for "Cum Slut," as I'd teasingly, yet affectionately called her. Hers for me had been "Dick Jerk" for D.J., a nickname that had stuck with me the rest of my life. Though most of my friends called me either D.J. or simply "Dee" as opposed to Debra after that. But she had come up with that name for me, as I'd snuck her into my bedroom once where she had hidden in the closet and watched me as I'd jerked off one of my brother's friends one day after school, a past time I'd come to enjoy doing given the opportunity. And one that not only Mike, but eventually Pat, Eddie, and another boy who's name I no longer remembered, would very often be treated to my world-class hand jobs, though at the time, it was all I would do. C.S. was too timid, too shy at the time to join me in doing that, but she'd found it arousing and stimulating to watch. She loved seeing the boys squirt, shooting off their hot sticky wads into the air, which again I rather enjoyed seeing myself. Seeing this, or just having me tell her about it, never failed to make her horny. But it was nicknames that we secretly had for one another ever after that, though we of course were the only ones who ever knew what they really meant.
I couldn't count the number of times we'd slept over at one another' houses, laying side by side in bed, masturbating while I told her about my latest after school hand-job session. Going into very vivid, explicit details about which boys prick shot the most goo, or which one shot it the highest. That had eventually led to my convincing her to hide out in the closet and watch me actually do it. Which she'd done...masturbating herself the entire time. And that of course, had then led to the silly game we'd begun playing afterwards, which we'd called "Light Switch." Though we had actually used that term for touching one another long before then, though only later making a real game out of doing it. In time, even that name was shortened to an even simpler, more private expression. Something we then called, "On...Off."
All this of course was now racing through my mind as I sat up, standing up, and quickly embraced her. "What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised to have run into her here in Phoenix of all places.
"I'm actually here visiting my sister-in-law," she told me. "Staying at the hotel as opposed to staying with her, helping out," she added. "My sick-assed brother is in rehab again, so I came down to stay with her for a few days, lend a hand. But no room at the Inn so to speak, too many kids and not enough bedrooms. Anyway, am due to fly out day after tomorrow, been a week from hell, and I thought well enough in advance to give myself an extra day to rest and relax before flying out again. I was just heading up to my room to see if there was anything good on TV tonight, and then order in room service."
I laughed at that. "Same here," I told her, though I didn't mention I was planning on checking out the more adult programming on TV, wondering if that was something she was still into herself though I didn't dare ask her that.
"Well, how about we order in room service together then and catch up on one another's lives?" She suggested. "Unless of course, you'd rather eat out."
I knew what she really meant of course, though I felt my cheeks suddenly burning at having heard her say that.
"That sounds wonderful," I said answering the unasked question, as well as the asked one, wondering if she'd take it that way to either one. "I'd definitely prefer staying in the rooms," I answered "rather than have to get dressed," I added teasingly letting my own subtle meaning hang there as she thought about it. It had been a long time since we'd done that, hell...since we'd moved on from playing "On...Off," to the one and only time we had actually gone down on one another just before she'd left.
I couldn't help but notice that her face had turned a little crimson too as we suddenly held hands and walked back through the lobby area towards the elevators. Wondering if she...like me, was remembering that last incredible weekend we had spent together before she had up and moved away with her parents.
"Floor?"
"Sixth," I told her, seeing the surprise in her eyes. "What?"
