The Wallflower

"Who are you taking to the dance, Mr. Superstar?" Timmy asked me teasingly.

"No one," I said in response. "I'm going 'stag', as they call it."

"What?" he replied. "No date? How is that possible, Robert? You're ROBERT JENKINS, star quarterback on a team that went 10-1, you threw 45 touchdowns, no interceptions, and ran for 18 more, you had the game-winning 2-point conversion -- on your 18th birthday, no less -- in the state Section 5 championship, and no date?"

"It's very possible," I grinned, "when I consciously decided not to bring a date. I could probably have had my pick of slutty senior-class female groupies wanting my date and my body afterwards, except that I decided to just go to the dance solo and see what happens. I somehow don't think my dance card will be empty."

"I guess," Timmy sighed. He didn't seem convinced of my sanity.

*

I arrived at the dance an hour before it was scheduled to open, astounding the bands scheduled to play by helping set up equipment. I had never wanted to be a superstar, but when our starter broke an arm 3 days before our first game I was thrust into the position and had had a dream season. It was a nightmare for me. I didn't like the adulation, the special treatment, and handling the publicity. I just wanted to go back to being a backup, "just one of the guys" and be me.

After setting up the musical stuff, I helped organize the refreshment stands before paying my $10 cover charge [they tried to wave it off, but I insisted on it] and entering the actual dance hall. I was surrounded at once by a crowd of admiring females, but waved them all off, explaining that after setting up for an hour I needed a short breather before actually dancing. In reality, I wanted to scan the crowd and see what came of it for a few minutes.

I spotted a tall, slightly chunky, mousy-looking brunette with Coke-bottle glasses nervously standing against the wall, looking completely out of place. She wore a long, floor-length blue dress that looked like it may have been in fashion when my grandfather was going to his high school dances. Timmy had appeared by my elbow, so I asked him who the girl was.

"Her?" he answered. "Her name is Lynne. She's the best student in my English class, and painfully shy. She had her 18th birthday last month and didn't have anyone to celebrate it with. The teacher says that even though she's always right, getting her to participate in class is like pulling teeth."

I walked over to Lynne, who looked like one of the few girls in school who didn't know me on sight. "I'm Robert," I said by way of introduction. "May I escort you onto the dance floor?"

She looked frankly terrified. "T-thank you, b-but no," she squeaked. "I can't dance at all."

"What makes you think that I can?" I laughed in response. "I'm probably a worse dancer than you. I just think it would be fun to try -- and besides, with about 100 couples out there who would even know we were there?"

"O-okay," she stammered.

I swept her into my strong arms and onto the floor, holding her 3 inches off the ground as I spun us around. It wasn't much of a dance -- I hadn't been lying when I said I was a bad dancer -- but she didn't have to do anything. I did all the work for 3 fast-paced songs, then carried Lynne off to the side where we sat down for a breather.

"Didn't you have fun out there?" I asked with a smile.

"Well," she said, "I don't think I actually danced... you were kind of holding me up."

"That's not exactly what I asked," I replied. "The question was whether you enjoyed it."

"Honestly?" she replied. "I did enjoy it. I just wish there weren't so many people around."

"You don't like big crowds?" I inquired.

"No, I don't," she responded. "I'd rather be home. I'm not a social person, but my mom thinks I should go to these. I always hate it."

"How did you get here?" I asked.

"My friend Gina gave me a ride," she said. "It's mom's way of making sure I stay the whole time, because Gina never leaves until the last song is done."

"Let's find Gina," I said, "and let her know I'm giving you a lift home."

*

I pulled the car up outside Lynne's house. "What do you do when you're at home?" I asked.

"I play my guitar and write lyrics for songs," Lynne responded. "I'm not into doing things in public, so no band. I also study, of course, and read a lot. I like to read science fiction."

"My favorite sci-fi book is Sundiver," I replied, "with the Ender's Game series a close second. I also like a lot of Heinlein's work, particularly the shorter ones for young adults like Starman Jones and Rocket Ship Galileo."

Lynne's jaw dropped. "You don't look like the type of person who would know a thing about science fiction," she gasped. "How...?"

"I read a lot too," I grinned, "and in addition to sci-fi, I like nonfiction and sports fiction. My favorite book overall is Now It Can Be Told, by General Leslie Groves. What about you?"

Lynne's jaw was slack as she stared at me open mouthed. "I... you... how did...."

"Lynne," I said, "relax. I'm nobody. You're a very intelligent girl who has more brainpower than if you took 2/3 of the kids at the dance and combined their intelligence. You must have a favorite book."

Lynne blushed at the compliment. "I do," she replied shyly. "The Menace of Atomic Energy is my favorite. I have the movie Atomic Twister in my room. It's my favorite movie, and I watch it whenever I feel depressed."

"Why don't you invite me inside?" I asked. "I'd love to meet your parents. Maybe afterwards we can watch your movie."

*

"What are you doing home so early?" I heard a woman's voice scream as Lynne opened the door. "I thought I told Gina to --"

I stepped inside. "It's all right, ma'am. I gave her a lift back," I said.

"Who --"

Lynne's mom's voice stopped abruptly as I escorted her daughter into the living room. "My name is Robert," I said. "I'm very pleased to meet you."

After putting her jaw back in place, she smiled. "I'm Paige," she said. She increased her volume as she called out, "ERIC! Lynne's home with a date!"

A middle-aged man bustled into the room. "Nice to meet you, sir," I said. "I'm Robert. You must be Lynne's father."

"I am indeed," he replied, shaking hands with me.

Lynne spoke up. "Mom, dad, would it be OK if Robert and I went to my room to watch my movie?"

Paige and Eric looked at each other, then back at Lynne and I. "You want to watch that depressing thing with Lynne? You go right ahead."

"Thank you," I replied. "Lynne is very intelligent and shares a lot of common interests with me. I'm sure the movie will be very enjoyable."

"OK, kids," Paige said with sarcasm heavy in her voice, "have fun watching that ugly movie, if you can. Eric and I are going to bed."

*

Paige was very wrong. It was 10:00 in the evening when the movie finished. I had greatly enjoyed it, and Lynne was loosening up. I think she couldn't believe I liked so many of the same things that she did.

"Robert," she asked, "can you do me a favor?"

"Sure thing," I responded.

"My back hurts a little bit," she stated. "I tweaked it picking up my school project a week ago. The binders weighed 30 pounds and I straightened up wrong."

I told her to remove her dress and bra so that her back was exposed, then lie face down. "Ok, but close your eyes until I say I'm ready," she said.

2 minutes later, I was slowly working my fingertips downward from her neck towards her back. She had a lot of knots in her muscles, and it gave me great pleasure to be able to knead her flesh and unknot her.

"That feels really nice," she whispered. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Just restoring the blood flow," I smiled. I continued to work downwards. When I came to her upper back, I gently ran my fingertips up and down slightly on her spine. I could feel her body shiver.

The lower back was next, where she said the pain had been. I found an unusually large knot and had to lean my elbow on it to get it to pop. One massaged back later she was in a very relaxed state.

"Can you do my legs, too?" she asked.

I began with her feet, touching the soles very lightly at first. This caused her to break into giggles. "Ticklish, are we?" I grinned.

I moved up her legs, slowly. There weren't as many knots, but I took my time over her. The backs of her knees proved to be another very sensitive spot, as the slightest contact there made her body go into tremors. I moved my hands towards the back of her thighs, working towards the inside. She obligingly opened her legs enough for me to massage very close to her most sensitive parts.

"Oh, wow," she moaned softly. "I've never felt anything like that."

"Lynne," I whispered, "I'm not going to try and pressure you into anything. If you would like me to take off your panties and pleasure you, I would love to. If not, I can leave now and meet you for a date whenever you'd like."

My honesty clearly caught her by surprise. "Y-you want to date me... again? And how could you make me feel any better than now?"

"It's up to you, Lynne," I replied softly. "I think you're wonderful and want to continue to spend as much time with you as possible. As for the other, I can if you'd like."

Lynne moaned, "Do it, Robert."

I peeled off her panties, opened her legs a little bit further and began licking her inner thighs. I moved closer and closer to her slit, causing her to groan with pleasure and squirm on the bed.

I asked her to turn over, and she did. I ran my tongue just over the edge of her lower lips. Becoming more aggressive, Lynne twined her legs around me, locking my head in place.

I slid my tongue along her slit, licking her sweet juices. She moaned and locked her legs more tightly. I slipped inside of her lips and began to search with my probing tongue for the bud of her clit.

Finding it, I gave it a circle and felt her quiver and tense up. I flickered my tongue over it and her body shook for what seemed like forever as she flooded me with sweet juice. I licked up every drop of it I could get, unwrapped her legs from my head and kissed her on the lips, allowing her to taste herself.

"Wow," Lynne breathed, coming down off the high, "that was incredible. Would you like me to make it up to you?"

"Only if you want to," I smiled at her.

"I want to!" she said. "I owe you one."

I undressed and lay on her bed. She kissed me, then tentatively moved down towards my chest. "Don't be nervous," I told her. "You feel very good."

She kissed my chest, experimentally circling my nipples with her tongue. It was clear she'd never done anything sexually in her life, and that thought was turning me on more. "Just do what feels natural," I said.

Eventually, she finished with my upper body and began on my legs, like I had done to her. I spread out to give her room to work. "Are you sure..." she started to say, but I cut her off.

"You're wonderful," I said. Lynne's touch was very stimulating as she worked up towards my crotch area. When she licked my inner thighs my swollen rod twitched.

She tentatively reached for my cock, wrapping her hand around it. "Now, do I...?" she whispered. "Do whatever you want," I said. "Everything you do feels awesome."

She began gently stroking me. Leaning down, she licked around the head. After a moment of indecision, she slipped the head into her mouth. She wasn't skilled, but her enthusiasm made up for it as she swirled her tongue in circles.

Her other hand reached down to play with my balls. "They're so hard!" she gasped. "They are getting heavier, too."

"Lynne," I moaned, "you're so sweet."

She lifted her face from my dick and just stroked it while she massaged my balls. Her soft touch and aura of innocence soon proved to be too much, and I began to spurt all over her. I splashed her face, neck and chest and dribbled some onto her hands.

She licked her finger. "Salty," she said quietly.

"Lynne," I replied, "that was the best I've ever felt in my life. I'd like you to be with me every weekend."

"Really?" she asked. "Me?"

"Yes, you," I said. "I think we should take a shower and clean up."

In the shower, I used my fingers to get her off again before we washed off our night's play. I didn't deflower her until after we were engaged, 8 months later. I think I'll be very happy to have her as my wife.