A true story from my past that has fueled many, many hours of private time since...
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I really don't remember when I met Julie. At the time, some time in my mid-twenties, I was running with a group of close post-college friends. About the same number of guys and girls, and Julie became part of that crowd. Mike, my best friend from school, rented a big house on the periphery of Boston and roommates came and went. Julie took the large first floor bedroom with a private bath, and soon it was if she had always been there. She was funny and very smart, and fit in easily. It was clear from the beginning that Julie was one of those people that takes things on her terms, not the other way around. It is hard to describe, but even if we were all hanging out, drinking beer and watching the Sox, Julie was one of us but we all knew she really wasn't. Was she better than us....no, but she came from a different world and we all knew it.
While I can't remember when I met Julie, I do remember the intense attraction I had to her. We were casual friends in the much larger group, but that was all. But everything about Julie pushed my buttons and she made a regular starring appearance in my private fantasy world...I think you know what I mean. But I was too intimidated by her and there was never a private moment when the whole group wasn't around to ever pursue anything more than a very casual friendship.
My group of friends all lived in Boston while I was working in New York. I had a good life in the city; I had a great job, a nice apartment with a view of mid-town, and did very well with the blonde prep school types that I fancied. I dressed very well, worked out and stayed in shape, and enjoyed my northeastern prep school image. The women were generally tall, thin, and pretty described them all well enough, and they all required about the same amount of effort to bed. Two to three dates, including one 'wow' date...great tickets to the theater or ballgame or a day of sailing on my buddy's boat would do the trick. With remarkable sameness I would get their padded A cup bra on my bedroom floor and get some very average sex. Yes they were pretty, and they would put out, but none of them held my interest. Fortunately the city was large and a new crop of them arrived all the time.
Labor Day weekend I made the trip up to Boston. My best friend Mike had a standing invitation for me to use the pull out sofa any time and we planned a weekend of bar hopping and the last beach weekend of the season. I got in late on Friday night and let myself in, finding the house mostly dark. The sofa bed had already been pulled out with fresh sheets piled up on it, so I dropped my bag, found a beer in the kitchen, and set to making up the bed. I was mid-way through struggling with the fitted sheet when a voice behind me said 'My god you are making that look difficult.' Julie was standing in her bedroom doorway, holding a glass of wine with an amused smile on her face. But what I mostly noticed was the silk boxers and tight t-shirt stretched over her braless breasts.
'Hey Julie, I uh, well I guess I, well I guess I'm doing something wrong.' I don't think Julie and I had ever been alone together, and I know I had never seen her in bedroom attire. I could feel my cock stirring at the sight in front of me, and my awkward mumbling made it pretty obvious the effect it all had on me.
Julie smirked, and moved to the large upholstered chair that faced the sofa and sat, taking a sip of her wine. 'I think I will watch, this is entertaining.'
Somehow I didn't have the nerve to ask her to help, so I went back to my struggles and eventually did get the bed made up. I picked up my beer and sat on the end of the bed and made some small talk with her about my drive up and her plans for the weekend before she stood and announced it was late, she needed to crash. She finished the last of her wine, and handed me the wine glass asking me to take it to the kitchen for her, then drifted off to her bedroom. I watched every step until she disappeared behind the closed door, then took her glass to the kitchen as instructed.
Julie was a sophisticated and polished woman, but was somehow an outsized persona. Everything about Julie was somehow different than most people. Julie was very attractive, but was one of those rare women you would describe as handsome. She had well defined features that bordered on being masculine, but came together to be strikingly attractive. And she carried herself in such a way that everyone noticed. Some women are gorgeous, and clearly know it. Others are very attractive and seemingly have no idea. Julie was the rare women who was striking, but didn't seem to care. And to other women this was infuriating. Julie was tall, probably about 5'8" and had a lean athletic build, with broad shoulders that made almost any kind of clothes look fabulous on her. She had an elegant way of walking that made her long legs and narrow hips all that much more attractive.
But then there was Julies bust, perhaps the perfect fashion accessory for every occasion. The morning after our late night chat, and my subsequent session in the bathroom remembering her bedtime attire as I stroked furiously in the sink, Julie shuffled out of her room dressed for her yoga class. As she poured her orange juice to go you couldn't help but notice her body hugged by her yoga outfit, including a perfect small breasted athletic look that made her so achingly hot. And yet somehow she could dress for a night out and emerge with a serious rack, cleavage that could stop traffic. Somehow her broad shouldered frame could carry her C to D cups in such a way that she had the perfect bust for every occasion. Guys noticed, women were envious and catty, and again Julie didn't seem to care.
Julie slipped off to yoga, and my friend Mike emerged from the upstairs. He and I caught up, busted each other's balls, and made plans for a group outing to an outdoor seaside bar that evening. We both had stuff to do that day, so I grabbed coffee to go and ran out to see some family. It was a perfect late summer day, sunshine in the low 80's with no humidity and I looked forward to a night out with the gang that evening. But the vision of Julie the night before was definitely still with me, and more than once during the day had me tempted to find some privacy to relieve the state she had put me in.
Around 5 I made my way back to Mike's, and found him and about half of our crowd out on the back deck with beers open and music playing. Everyone was in a three day weekend kind of mood. It had been a couple of months since I had been to Boston, so catching up with everyone took some time and created a lot of laughs. My friend Bill, who came out of the closet a year later, as usual wanted every detail of my latest 'Stepford blondes' as he liked to call them. The group continued to grow, and the grille supplied burgers, but the beer began to run low. It was about 8 and it was time to make our way to the bar. Cars were assigned, designated drivers were not, and we headed out in high spirits.
The bar is a big sprawling outdoor facility under a tent right on the harbor. You pay a cover, there is live music that is mostly participative parodies of popular rock music, and it is great fun. We were drinking beer and enjoying the waterside atmosphere and music. I had noticed a blonde prep school type there with a group of friends, and had already made some good progress toward a weekend tryst. She was impressed by my Manhattan address, my inflated description of my great job, and liked her men preppy and successful. Things were shaping up nicely. I was chatting with this new blonde when I looked over her shoulder toward the entrance of the bar. Julie had arrived to join the group, and was making her way toward our end of the place. Julie was wearing a loose fitting while cotton top that still made clear the quality of what was underneath, a black cotton skirt and sandals. Her shoulder length dark hair hung loose. She looked gorgeous, and heads turned to notice. She briefly caught my eye as she eased in to the group, glanced at my new friend, and gave me a condescending smile. I nodded to her, my new blonde friend turned and looked as I apparently hadn't done a good job hiding my gawking. Julie made her way to a tall table where Mike had a bucket of cold Rolling Rock's and told Mike to open one for her.
Julie is one of those rare people who tells people what to do, including people she doesn't know, and for some reason they do it. She isn't rude, more firm with a hint of gratitude...but mostly firm. But she can tell perfect strangers to do things for her, usually small tasks that she doesn't feel like doing herself, and with a confused urgency they do it. Men and women, young and old, all respond the same way. But as amazing as the ask is, the thank you is just as impressive. The stranger who just ran to the counter to get Julie more napkins gets a cordial thank you, but it's clear from her tone that this is just what she expects people to do. So when Mike jumped to open a beer for Julie no particular gratitude was offered, and Mike was pretty conditioned not to expect any. I imagine, though we never discussed it, Mike has spent many sessions in private working off the state Julie left him in as she saunters through his day. I am sure she knows it too.
My attention returned to my new blonde friend, who seemed a little annoyed by my noticing Julie's arrival, but I got things back on track pretty quickly. And soon she was back to laughing and flirting, and I was fairly confident I wouldn't need the pull out sofa that evening. Melony was pretty and liked to laugh, but we had little else in common. But there was likely a good return in the cards on an investment in buying her a few drinks, so I pushed on. When Melony said she needed a ladies room trip I offered to buy another round of drinks, we called it a plan. I walked over to the bar next to our group while she made her way to a substantial ladies room line.
Julie was parked at a tall table next to the bar, and I eased toward the bar next to her. She again gave me the condescending smile. 'Can you get me another beer too while you are buying one for blondie' she more instructed than asked. I nodded, and was parked next to her for a few minutes. 'So is this another of those blonde, flat chested sorority chicks?' she asked in tone that was clearly needling me.
'She isn't flat chested' I retorted a bit too defensively.
