Cecilia and Sherry, Part One
Copyright Catcher78 all rights reserved
Author's Notes: These stories belong to me and may not be copied or used in any way without my express written permission.
The story deals with life long love and friendship and rank infidelity and blatant disrespect.
We both went to the same high school, but Sherry was a year older and the leader of our school's version of "Mean Girls" strutting down the Halls, people had to get our of their way or be mowed down.
I'm Hispanic, Japanese, Sicilian and Portuguese. My Mama is from Peru and was scholarshipped at the University of Washington and she ran track. She was tiny five feet tall and stunning. Her name is Hipolito.
Daddy, Bernito Vanni is not tall, five foot six, but his shoulders and chest are massive. He was the darling of Seattle Sports when he played football for the Huskies. In the family room there is this huge eight four inch framed photo of him, a cover of Sports Illustrated. His rock solid body squeezing between the three hundred pound center and guard for the University of Michigan Wolverines, his helmet buried in the belly of the two hundred fifty pound fullback stopping him on the half foot line on fourth down. It's on YouTube, an old broadcast of ESPN where the broadcaster says, "He's tiny, but he's tough, eleven tackles, four for losses. Five foot six two hundred and thirty five pounds. I've seen it all."
I was nine, when they separated, Mama finally left after hiding her serial infidelities and was now living in Cyprus with some Russian Oligarch her fourth husband I think, but who in the world is counting. She sends cards and wire's five thousand dollars a month to Daddy's account who gives it to St. Anne's. I burn the cards without reading them. I hate her so fucking much. I have not seen her in ten years.
My name is Cecilia Vanni. I'm eighteen years old. I live with pops and Nonna Vittoria who cooks and cleans for us, I have no idea how old she is, she's daddy's mama, if I were to guess maybe in her early sixties. She was maybe a little overweight and it's embarrassing to say this about your Nonna, but her tits were ginormous. Mama's were big too DD-Cups, I saw Nonna one morning as I looked into her room in a mirror on a closet door. They were over a foot long, from her chest to her nipples.
There were stretch marks all over the top where they hung from her chest. I swear on my mother's grave her nipples were over an inch long and thick.
Sigh. When I was in the fourth grade, I was a tomboy and faster than anyone in the neighborhood, when my girls came to visit and never left. I was a C-cup and ten years old, totally confused. I walked through the Halls of St. Annes grade school (K-8) with my arms crossed so nobody could see them. This sweet boy across the aisle who lived up the street from our home across from the public school Junior High and I would pass notes and giggle before Sr. Marie Claire came into the class room, now stared at me, well my chest and his face turned all red.
The principal, Mrs. Jackson sent a messenger to class one morning to bring me to her office. She was really tall. She reached for my hand as I crossed my arms. She stopped and raised her eyebrows and I shook my head vigorously no.
I found myself sitting on this hard wooden chair barely able to see Mrs. Jackson as I was three foot eight inches tall. My arms were firmly crossed. She stood up and walked around her desk and sat on the edge of the desk and smiled at me, but looked sad at the same time. "Cecilia, where's your mom?"
I had not seen my mom in weeks, I wasn't sure really, she'd be gone for weeks at a time, she's an insurance underwriter, for bizarre business coverages, her words not mine. I didn't want to get into that, so I shrugged my shoulders as if to say I had no clue which was the truth, except hard to do with my arms crossed.
She went on, "The reason I asked is I tried to call your mom and the phone number was disconnected. Do you know about that?"
As a ten year old, I felt despair come to roost, at ten, yep. I had a real high voice.
"My mama travels a lot for business, she is an insurance underwriter for Berkshire Hathaway and sometimes Lloyd's for special times."
She leaned back and grabbed this magazine and showed me a picture of mama in a wedding dress being held up by this huge Greek man with her bejeweled hand showing a wedding band and a diamond as big as a fifty cent piece wearing white stilettos, she asked, "Is this your mom?"
The way Nonna relates it I pitched forward off the chair onto my face, I broke my nose, there was blood everywhere and she said and she always added this it took me weeks to get the blood out of that blouse.
Apparently, there was some timing issues, for Daddy to be served the divorce papers, or maybe she just forgot and didn't give a shit about us. I've always thought that was the case. My nose now had a little ridge and was bent a bit. Nonna and Mrs. Kroft my English teacher in my Junior year said it made me flawed and hot all at the same time. What in the world does my Nonna know about hot? Mrs. Kroft regularly hit on me and was my faculty advisor. She actually kissed me last week, she could kiss alright but was fifty five years old. Mainly now I kept my eyes peeled as she also mauled my tits through my tee shirt, almost ripping off my letterman's jacket. Yep I'm fast and I have a scholarship to the University of Washington.
Back to Sherry and the Mean Girls, her locker was right next to mine and I was rummaging through the bottom of mine looking for a book that was late to the library and I found it and stood up and we were six inches apart and I looked up at her face.
She had green eyes and freckles and beautiful thick red hair and fat lips, red with lipstick. At some point my mouth was open and she leaned down and said, "Nice tits, very nice tits, " and briefly our chests mashed together.
Then she was gone and I felt so flush and my heart was pounding, she actually looked like Lindsay Lohan, maybe a little taller. God she was so beautiful. What did she say about my tits, they were 'nice, very nice'. I had a boyfriend, Jack Steele and he lived by our High School, Bishop Blanchett and I was eighteen due to the divorce and family tumult, so technically I was a virgin, my hymen was secure, but hand jobs and blow jobs were a big part of our life now and he even ate me during my monthly, talk about sweet agony. He had a nice dick too, nice and thick, we measured it and it was eight inches.
But all I could think about was Sherry. Was she hitting on me? Oh my fucking God, would she do it again? Please God yes, where did that come from, was I talking to God, was there a lesbian saint? Doubtful, lots of nuns are queer, most probably, but not all actually act on it, despite what porn producers say.
St. Anne's had lost two Irish priests who were fucking little boys and married women, so who knows, there had to be plenty of queer popes too, I wonder if there'd ever been even one that was not. Can you imagine living for sixty years and not having sex, maybe they wore those chastity thingies!
Ultimately, I googled lesbian red heads on my smart phones and there it was, busty twins entwined licking their snatches, lesbian teachers fucking students, eating their asses, then there was this Latina Alina Lopez. She was so beautiful, black hair and this tongue that was long and bent and she made women cum and this one video she was fucking this red head woman, Penny Pax who tried to hump Alina's whole head into her cunt.
I watched that over and over again on my phone with the sound turned almost off. Penny looked like Sherry except Sherry was taller and her tits were bigger. Did I mention I could touch my nose with my tongue? But she was going to graduate soon, true longing set in, some where between my rosebud and my clit. I wanted her to fuck my tits, cover them in hickeys and bite my nipples. I didn't get much sleep that night.