There isn't a moment in my life that hasn't been somehow touched by Marilyn. I think about her constantly. Most guys move on to other girls, but most guys don't experience a girl like Marilyn. From the second I saw that beautiful girl, I was hooked. Line and sinker. Ball and chain.
Never in my life did I expect to make her mine. It was something I wanted, needed, and craved desperately. Every woman I dated possessed only a fraction of her innocence and grace. Shadows of the woman I wanted as my lover and wife.
It makes this moment so much richer, honestly. As I cup her creamy cheeks in my hands, I can still remember the fresh-faced little sister of my neighbor, bounding in from summer romps. I lean forward to kiss the nape of her neck, recalling her bloom from a girl to a woman, the knowing looks she began to send me, the small touches. I gather a silken knot of her hair in my hand, smiling with pleasure at the memory of the vivacious college girl running into me at a coffee shop, blue eyes shining. So beautiful.
"What are you waiting for?" she whispers softly. She peeks at me over her shoulder.
"What's going on, George?"
*****
"Hey! What's going on, George?!"
I stared in open-mouthed surprise. Marilyn Decker grinned impishly at me over a steaming coffee. For a second I hardly recognized her, but spotted the small chip in her front tooth. That's Marilyn, alright. The little minx herself, my buddy's little sister. The fantasy come back to life. I was instantly sweaty and excited. The way she tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder made my heart speed up.
"It's been so long. How's it going?"
She grinned again, "Oh, great. I'm taking classes here at Easterbrook. How are you doing?"
"Good. I'm just here on my way to work.... How's Aaron doing?"
"He's fine. Did you know he got married this past spring?"
My eyes flickered downward for an instant and I took in the soft curve of her breasts in her shirt, her tapered waist, and shapely hips. I wanted badly to lean forward and crush her to me, to inhale the scent of her hair. Instead, I smiled.
"No way! That's awesome news. Who's the lucky girl?"
"Anna Lawson. I suppose it doesn't come as a surprise to you; they dated all throughout highschool and college. It certainly didn't surprise any of us."
Hell, she was sweet. The benign, wide-eyed way she gazed at me, peeking over the rim of her coffee cup. I imagined kissing her rosy mouth with fervor, running my thumbs over her delicate nipples, grinding myself against her mound. This wasn't typical of me. I was usually in good control of myself. But this girl... She did something to me.
"Do you want to sit down for a few minutes and talk? It's been so long since we've seen each other."
She brightened and nodded. I led her to a table and we sat. As she prattled on about her brother's wedding, I studied every inch of her. The curve of her cheek, the long brown lashes veiling her eyes, the freckles along the tops of her breasts, and the blue veinwork under her pale skin. My cock was throbbing in my jeans, desperate to escape. It didn't help me to look at her, but what could I do but look at the object of so many of my fantasies? Her full, pouty mouth, which she moistened often with her tongue, was as sweet and round as a berry. I longed to see it wrapped around my dick.
I groaned to myself as she recrossed her legs, the effort causing her to lean forward, giving me a quick peek at her breasts. They pressed together snugly in her light sweater.
She shook her head and smiled, "You look great, George... I haven't seen you in years, but you look fantastic. Just like I knew you would."
"You look great too, Marilyn. It's lucky we ran into one another. I haven't seen you since you were... what, 17?"
"Yes" she laughed, "17 and silly and with a huge crush on my brother's friend, George McIntyre..."
I could hardly believe it, but she went on.
"My big brother's best friend. You used to play basketball in my driveway with Aaron. I watched you from my window. Sweaty and so cute. You know, girls always think older boys are cute."
Marilyn blushed and ducked her head to sip from her coffee. I shifted in my seat, conscious suddenly of how damned hot it would have been to know that when I was younger. I could have taken her in her frilly, pink bedroom and she would have liked it.
"I guess it's stupid of me to tell you that, but seeing you again brought it to the surface."
I smiled at her. I appreciated knowing how she'd felt about it, but wondered if she still felt the same. She did, right? Why else would she be telling me all that?
"You know, I always wanted to tell you—"
I was cut off by the ringing of her cell phone. I sipped my own cup nervously as she answered it and talked for a few minutes. My stomach felt as if it was full of rocks when I heard her call someone "baby."
"Sorry. I'd better get going, my boyfriend is waiting for me. This has been so much fun."
We both rose and hugged somewhat awkwardly. For a few seconds, I held her against me. Then she was gone.
*****
