"I've been looking so long at these pictures of you, that I almost believe that they're real..."
I let the tears fall down my cheeks as I drove down the highway, listening to the old song on the oldies radio.
"remembering you standing quietly in the rain... and we kissed..."
I hadn't thought about Allen in years, and yet the other day I had uncovered the only picture I had of him, bringing back a flood of memories.
We had been sitting in his car in the school parking lot, my legs draped over him and resting on the door. My sarong had fallen to the side, my freshly shaven legs exposed from the thigh down. I remember him breathing heavily, stroking them... he'd bend down and kiss the smooth surface, tickling the backs of my knee's so that I'd wiggle and giggle girlishly for him.
Allen was about seven years older than I was, and a friend of the family. Looking back now I should have been too young at 18 years old and it seemed almost garishly wrong, but I knew then and I still stick to it today that he truly loved me. Love like ours couldn't have been faked. I hadn't started out loving him, but through the years of conversing online I had become frighteningly attached to him, and when we finally saw each other again after two years of nearly daily conversing, there seemed to be sparks whenever he came close to or even looked at me. We snuck away from the and went off for the day. Our families always thought he was just a friend, but we found out that day, through shaking and unsure yet needy kisses that it was much more than that.
He looked at me then, back in the car, with those deep blue eyes I always lost myself in. He reached for my cheek, and I closed my eyes at his warm touch. I knew then that I would have to let him go one day, that the forces of our lives would separate us and our young, idealistic love wouldn't be able to endure. I rested my head in his palm, nearly crying as his thumb caressed my cheek bone. Why did my first love have to live so far away? I wondered desperately. How unfair, my mind whimpered, how cruel for the only man to make me feel this way would have to live hundreds of miles away from me?
My eyes opened and the blue oceans of his eyes returned only love to my desperate face. "Shhhhh..." he whispered, running his thumb over my trembling lips. "We have today, sweetheart... we have today." I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lap, tracing the fingers as if to forever implant them in my memory. I looked out the wind shield of the car and watched the misty haze of April cover the ball field. I smiled, jumping up and opening the door. "It's raining! Come dance with me!"
I ran to the hill, my skirt lifted out of my way, stopping only to look at the baseball diamond and wait for him. Unexpectedly he grabbed me from behind, gentle fingers trickling against my lower stomach, and I gasped at the sensation. He moved my hair back and kissed my neck, making me fall back against him moaning. Never had I felt this before... he sucked and kissed my neck so that the pleasure almost hurt, but never did I want him to stop. I grasped his head with my hand and tilted mine to the side to give him full access to the surprisingly sensitive skin. His hands continued their ballerina dance on my stomach.
I moaned his name and it was now his turn to gasp. He pressed me closer to him and I felt his excitement pressed against my back. Now his kisses spread down my shoulders, pushing my low cut shirt off my shoulder. As one of his large hands explored my breasts a second reached under my skirt and started feeling for a part of me I'd barely even knew existed. I let out a second moan... deeper this time, and pressed myself against him as hard as I could, afraid to turn around and face him and yet needing more.
Whispering my name over and over again his hands seemed to be everywhere and the rain seemed surprisingly cool to my burning skin.