Viki and Sandy, two of the stars of this tale, are based on real people. This story is my attempt to contrast their characters (as I understand them) and very different beauties. The events recounted herein, however, are not taken from their lives; they are wholly my invention.
I wasn't sure what category to put this one in, settling on "First Time" for reasons I hope become obvious. It is my first venture in that category and my first entry in a category has, on occasion, resulted in complaints that I misunderstand the category and mislabeled the story. So if you think I err in placing this is "First Time" let me know, but understand there was no intent to mislead.
At present there is one more chapter in the works, although I have contemplated more. As always, I'd be interested to know what you think.
And, as always, all story characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.
* * * * *
After the game a group of us, accompanied by parents, were celebrating at the Seafood Gallery. It had several things going for it, a loose atmosphere, decent food in large quantities, and an owner who hired good-looking college girls for his wait-staff. At the moment Viki, surreptitiously nicknamed "Super-bod" by the guys, was talking to my mother, which was fine by me; it gave me a reason to look at her.
Slim, five feet nine inches tall, 36-24-37 figure and "D" breasts, light brown hair, now pinned up, full lips, ready infectious smile, any excuse to look at Viki was welcome.
Mom placed her order and headed for the facilities, which deprived me of my reason to look at Viki, so I glanced around, seeing what I'd long ago learned to expect. The guys had turned their attention to Mom, following her progress. Yeah, Mom was nice-looking.
"Congrats on beating Lawrenceville tonight. Your Mom says you were the star, drove in the winning run. Is it on to the state playoffs?"
Viki was standing before me.
"Yeah, we're playing Catholic High next week in the first round."
"Good luck. Now, two questions. Whatcha eating?"
I ordered trout, broiled, and iced tea.
"Second, are you ever going to ask me out or are you just going to spend the rest of your life staring at me?"
I was some smooth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it's just..."
She smiled; she wasn't mad.
"It sounds like you're going with staring, which is a really bad choice. I mean, not that I'm not worth staring out, god knows I get enough of it, but still... How 'bout this, some bands are playing on the quad on campus Saturday. Meet me at noon, at the flagpole. I'll bring the blanket and chairs, you bring the food, but not from here, a girl needs variety."
* * * * *
Mom got out of the shower, padded down the hall, knocked on my door; I turned off my computer and invited her in. Wearing a blue terry-cloth robe that reached mid-thigh, she sat on the corner of my bed. Her thick black hair hung loose past her shoulder blades.
"Do you mind?"
I never did, but she always asked. Mom owned the local coffee shop, the cool place in town, and was often there at night. When home she'd ask me to brush her hair. It was a good time to talk, to wind down the day.
"Do I ever?"
She smiled, handed me a brush. "No, you don't. You take good care of your mother. Viki told me you finally asked her out."
"Well, I think she asked me more than I her. Mom, she always been real nice and everything, and she sure is pretty, and I like her, but I never figured she'd be interested in a high school kid. We're supposed to hang on Saturday, listen to music on campus."
"I like her. She's a regular at the shop. She asked whether you were available. I said yes. She's been flirting with you, waiting for you to bite. When you didn't she asked me about it, wondered what was wrong. After all, guys are always hitting on her. I told her you're a little shy, that you've spent your time taking care of your mother, haven't been chasing girls full-time like your friends, and suggested she be a bit more aggressive. I guess she took my advice."
Her hair was done. She turned towards me. Her narrow face featured high cheekbones, thick lips, and a long nose that hooked slightly to the left at its tip, her Italian heritage evident in her olive skin and dark brown eyes. Mom was striking
She kissed my check, she smelled nice and clean, and said, "I think maybe Viki would be good for my son, help him catch up with the other guys."
* * * * *
I was at school on Thursday when my phone buzzed. It was Mom. The evening's barista called in, said she was sick. Mom had plans, could I cover the shift? I regularly filled in for missing employees, after all the place kept me fed, and the shift started late enough so I could practice with the team. I texted her, let her know I was available.
* * * * *
Mom, laughing and carrying shopping bags, arrived at the shop about ten minutes before closing with Viki. The look on my face must have asked for an explanation, for Mom provided one.
"Hey honey, Viki and I've been shopping. How was business tonight?"
"Real busy, which is nice, it makes the time go faster."
We were the only shop next to campus. Several chains had tried butting into our territory but they'd all slunk away, relocating to strip centers on the edge of town. Starbuck's and Seattle's Best were no match for Mom's amazing brews and funky atmosphere.
Viki said, "Hey sweetie, I'll be right back," and ducked into the back, emerging with a bicycle. I'd wondered whom it belonged to. Mom said she'd help close down, indicating with a nod of her head that I should walk Viki outside.
"So what did you buy?"
"You'll see Saturday. You'll like."
She loaded her bag in her basket, turned on her light, kissed my cheek, said tootles, rang her bell, rode off. I pulled my shirt from my pants to hide my erection and went to help Mom.
* * * * *
Mom, wearing a short kimono that accented her slender legs, handed me a brush and sat on the corner of my bed. I worked her hair.
"I didn't know you and Viki hung out."
"We've done a few things together and I helped her get that job at Seafood Gallery. She can be a bit of a coquette and with those looks, I figured she'd clean up on tips from the businessmen who eat lunch there, which she does. You looking forward to this weekend?"
I was, but I was also intimidated by those looks and the fact that she was a college girl.
"Yeah, but I'm a little nervous."
I'd finished her hair. Mom turned, kissed me, and said, "You'll do fine. Just be yourself. She likes 'yourself.'"
* * * * *
I masturbated, put on shorts and a red pull over shirt, looked in the mirror, took it off, put on a blue shirt, looked again, took it off, put the red shirt back on, took it off, put it back on, called Mom. She said go with the red shirt. I went by the coffee shop - Mom had prepared a box of food, enough sandwiches and pastries for Viki, I, and several others - and although I was trying to play it cool, I was at the flagpole ten minutes early.