It Was Just One Time

This is a work of fiction, and even though high school is mentioned, no sexual activity takes place before the protagonists are seniors, and over 18.

*****

"Thank God for Massengill," Julie thought, as she slid into the bathroom stall at the McDonald's off the exit, to douche herself clean. "There's no way I could come home like this, and break Mickey's heart."

"Oh, God, why did I do that?" condemning herself, but, deep down, she knew why she did it. Rick was just so handsome, so suave, and he just swept her off her feet.

"It was that first kiss," she thought, strange, tilting her head up to kiss a man. Mickey, her husband, was a strong, powerful, virile man, one who could still send shivers down her spine, even after twelve years of marriage. But with her 6'1" height, and Mickey being only 5'9", she was the one who had to bend down when they kissed. Boyfriend and girlfriend ever since their sophomore year in high school, lovers since their senior year, and married right after graduation - and just five months before their daughter was born - Julie was used to kissing a shorter man, even though she'd have thought the idea horrid before she met Mickey.

Both of her parents had been tall, and Julie grew up quickly, and gawkily, towering over all of the girls her age, and the guys as well. Girls get taller than guys in elementary and junior high school, but when puberty hits, boys shoot up faster, and normally quickly surpass the girls. She had gotten teased, some good-naturedly and some not, by the other girls, and not a few of the guys, as the crane who'd be stuck with a munchkin guy. Julie was smart, intellectually, and knew that there was absolutely nothing wrong with a woman being taller than her man, but faced with all of the insecurities of adolescent girls, in her heart she thought that was just plain wrong. Having the figure of a toothpick didn't help matters, and starting puberty a bit later than her friends just compounded the problem.

Julie never had a boyfriend, had never been kissed into her sophomore year. At least she was looking like a girl now, her figure changing as puberty struck her, late but fast once it happened. Her butt went from just plain skinny to still-skinny but definitely feminine, and, with her long legs, it was higher up than most girls. Still, Julie had a negative reputation, and even guys who might have thought she was starting to look cute had second thoughts about wanting to date the Stork.

It was in her sophomore year that Mickey had transferred into her small-town high school. He was squat but muscular, the perfect build for an offensive lineman in high school, and he quickly earned a starting spot at right guard, even as a sophomore himself, with his quickness and strength, and his ability to get underneath leverage against defensive lineman. Only 5'7 as a sophomore, he was an impressive 190 lb, with all of it muscle.

Mickey hadn't paid any attention to the Stork the first few weeks of school. Football practice started two weeks before school began, and two-a-days in the August sun were no fun at all. Even eating his parents out of house-and-home, he was losing weight in practice, and only made it back to 190 five weeks into the season.

It was one of those stupid games that high school kids play, at the Tanner's house one evening while the parents had conveniently absented themselves. Spin-the-bottle had quickly moved to Seven-Minutes-in-Heaven, as Mickey and the Stork got paired off, to raucous laughter, in the basement closet. Julie was absolutely mortified, and Mickey wondered about the insanely tall, skinny chick, but, anxious to make new friends in the school, went along with it, even gallantly standing and taking Julie's hand to pull her to her feet after the bottle he spun pointed clearly at her. She had been wearing a red Cardinals t-shirt - their school teams were the Cardinals - and her face was almost indistinguishable from the color of her shirt.

The guys were laughing and the girls giggling as the pair were locked in the closet. Some louvers in the bottom of the closet door provided just a hint of light, so at least they could see each other, if barely more than silhouettes.

"We don't have to do anything," Julie had demurred, shaky and unsure of herself, excited but still half-terrified. She had never pictured her first kiss as being in a darkened closet, and she knew how boys had avoided her in the past.

But Mickey was undeterred, and simply said, softly enough that only Julie could hear him, "Kiss me." He'd never spoken to the Stork before the party, and really only barely then, but he was strong, sure of himself, almost cocky in his attempts to overcome his short stature, and aggressive.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't the right question to ask, but Julie asked it anyway.

"Yes, kiss me," he replied, as he put his hands up to her face and drew her down to his lips.

Julie's first kiss, with the short football player, had been the heaven that the seven minutes game promised. He was slow and patient with her, but she could still sense the tension in his body, and after the first couple of kisses they were both feeling it, desperately and eagerly. All too soon they heard a girl shout from outside the door, "Thirty seconds! Y'all better get dressed now!" to a bunch of squeals and laughter. They didn't have to get dressed, as no clothing had come off, but when Mary Tanner threw the door open, Mickey and Julie were still locked in a deep kiss, to the whoops and hollers of the other teenagers.

From that evening on, Mickey and the Stork were an item. She was his first girlfriend, and he her first boyfriend, and if the odd height difference had drawn some comical jokes, Mickey's stature on the gridiron quickly made up for his lack of stature in the height charts. The Cardinals were 5-0, with a strong running game, especially to the right where Mickey was the team leader, even as a sophomore, in opening up holes for the fullback and halfbacks. His toughness in the scraps that teenaged boys got into simply cemented his reputation, and all of a sudden the couple didn't look quite so comical after all.

oo0oo

"Kiss me." That was all that Rick had said that evening, as they were both leaving the hospital. Julie was a registered nurse, and as she was leaving her shift, at 7:30 PM, from the neurosurgery intensive care unit, Rick, the tall third year medical student leaving with her, and as they were waiting for the elevator, with no one else around, he looked down at her and said, "Kiss me."

God, he was good looking. Clearly younger than Julie's thirty years, somewhere around 24 she guessed, he had the palest blue eyes, a real contrast with his tousled dark hair. And he was tall, somewhere around 6'6, with a two-day stubble beard. He was thin, certainly thinner than her muscular husband, though he still had a hard, tough look about him.

Why did she kiss him, why did she do as he asked? Julie never really knew, but she reached up, put her hand behind his neck, and gently pulled him down into a brief, but still sweet kiss. Her lips remained closed, but Rick could still feel a hint of promise in that kiss.

"Happy now?" she asked him, somewhat defensively, realizing what she had done. It was like an electric current had gone through her, making her tingle at the unexpected, unfamiliar sensation of reaching up to kiss a man.

"Very happy, but not happy enough." As the elevator chimed its arrival at their floor, Rick took her by the hand, and pulled her not into the elevator, but through the door to the stairwell. With the solid thud of the door closing behind them, he pushed Julie up against the wall, holding her hands up and flat against it, as he kissed her again, this time passionately, insistently, hungrily. His need was rising within him, and Julie felt the heat of the moment, not only from Rick but from within herself as well.

When he released her hands, her arms shot around his neck, and his hands snaked their way to her waist, then up, barely underneath her blue scrub top. No man other than Mickey had ever touched her like that, and she was on fire.

"We can't," she managed to get out, half-breathlessly, feeling the heat in his hands along the bare skin of her ribs as his hands had risen, pulling up her shirt. And then her next words sealed her fate, "Not here."

Rick was an accomplished cocksman, and he knew women all too well. "Not here" were words of surrender, weak words, words which gave consent if only there was a private place.

And even in that busy teaching hospital, he knew of a private place. A service closet, stacked with blankets and sheets as extra supplies, not the regularly used one, down on the floor below. He took her hand, without asking, and led Julie down one flight of stairs, and into that closet in the deserved service hallway. Closing the door behind them, in just the light coming through the louvers at the bottom of the door, he pulled Julie back into those passionate kisses, and she felt herself melting him his arms.

How had her pants gotten off? Somehow, she was sitting on a stack of towels, with her shoes and pants, and panties, on the floor. Rick was standing there, his cock hard and sticking straight out, aiming for his target. For a moment she glanced down, and saw his manhood, almost absent-mindedly noting that it was longer than Mickey's, though it didn't seem to be quite as thick.

oo0oo

It was the beginning of March of their senior year, and Mickey had hit the winning shot in the Tenth District championship game in the State Tournament. Now two inches taller, at 5'9", and an insanely muscular 220 lb, he was the starting point guard on the Cardinal's basketball team, fast and quick, with great court vision and a good ability to put the ball in the right teammate's hands. Mickey wasn't known as a scorer, averaging only 6.8 points per game, but along with his offensive skills in running the offense, he was a tenacious defender. The Cardinals were undersized for basketball, and getting to the Regional Tournament - the next step between the District and the "Sweet Sixteen" State Tournament at Rupp Arena - was not expected for the Cardinals. Down by two with fourteen seconds to go, Mickey advanced the ball up the court, looking for his teammates, open on the wing or cutting to the basket. The game had been a low-scoring affair, with the bigger Indians holding the Cardinals to a low shooting percentage, but shooting poorly themselves. A lot of smaller teams lived on shooting threes, but the Cardinal players simply weren't very good from beyond the arc, and they based their offense on precision cutting to the basket and taking high-percentage shots, their defense on solid blocking out.

This was do-or-die, right here. Mickey knew that coach wanted the offensive play to start with eight seconds left to go, to make their cuts and get the shot off, without leaving the Indians enough time to get back down court and score themselves. A two would tie the game and send it into overtime, a three would win it, but their three-point shooting was too poor to base a last second play on it. The best would be a two plus a foul, with a free throw to win it. Even if the shot missed, a foul would give them two free throws, and the Cardinal players were pretty good from the charity stripe.

The Indians' taller guard was on Mickey as he set to begin the offensive play, but Mickey was easily quicker. The worst part about it was that the taller guard was able to cut off about half the court from Mickey's passing lanes, and he was shielding the offensive right side, where Billy Tanner, their best scorer, normally began his cuts. Billy made his cuts, but Mickey didn't have a passing lane to him, when he spotted Nate in the deep left corner. Mickey passed him the ball, and Nate drove the baseline.

But the Indians were ready, and Nate was trapped, with no place to go. He tried to pass to Billy, but an Indian defender deflected the ball straight back, right toward Mickey. Mickey was as poor a three-point shooter as everyone else on the team, but with only a second to go, there was no time to drive; he caught the ball and shot it, all in one motion, giving the defense no time to react. Mickey's 22.3% shooting from downtown didn't matter: it was 100% on that shot.

The horn sounded and the Cardinal students charged the floor, mobbing the team. In the crowd, Julie managed to find her boyfriend, practically tackling him on the court, winding up on top of him, kissing him madly in the celebration of the victory.

That was the night. Julie had to wait for the team bus to get back to the high school, and she had called her parents to let them know what had happened, and that she'd be late.

They were going to wait until after they had been graduated. Despite their passion, Julie and Mickey had been sensible, and hadn't copulated yet, though it had been hard to resist. They were going to go to the same college together, and get an apartment together, study hard and build their lives. That's what they had planned.

That wasn't what happened.

After the team bus got back, Julie was waiting for Mickey to get off. As he came down the steps from the ugly yellow school bus, he spotted Julie, and ran over to her; he had just enough sense to slow down and not bowl her over as he got to her, though they still wound up in a pile, laughing and hugging and kissing.

They just barely made it back to Julie's house, playing slap and tickle all the way there while Mickey was driving her home. All of the lights were out, as they crept up the stairs to Julie's bedroom, not ever whispering, their hands all over each other.

It was inevitable: they were so happy, and so in love with each other, that they were soon on Julie's bed together. Their playing around was deathly quiet, the only sounds being sighs and kisses, and soon Mickey's shirt was on the floor. A few moments later, so was Julie's.

Mickey kissed her small breasts, the first time they'd gone this far. They'd kind of felt each other up before, passionate but still in some semblance of control. For high schoolers, their love for each other had taken a much more mature turn than for most kids their age, and they'd been together, as a couple, ever since that seven minutes in Heaven. Julie kissed Mickey's chest, as marveled by his firm muscles as he was by her soft breasts. She had seen him without a shirt before, at the pool and the river during summers, and had touched his bare chest, but this was different, both softer and harder, calmer and more passionate.

Was it the thrill of her boyfriend hitting the winning shot? Perhaps it was the naughtiness of being in her bed, with her parents just two doors down the hall. Maybe it was just that they had been together for 2½ years now, but whatever it was, their hugging and kissing and love for each other led to the whispered plea from Julie, "Make love to me, Mickey."

How had the rest of their clothes gotten off? In all of the times that Julie thought back to their first time together, she still couldn't remember, but however it had happened, what she could remember was taking Mickey's manhood into her hand, and guiding it inside of her that night. The room was mostly dark, with only the light of the streetlight halfway down the block and the LED display from her alarm clock, as she could only barely see what they were doing. Mickey felt big in her hand, hard and thick. She was scared, but so much in love, and her fear did not lead her to hesitate. He was ready, and she was ready, and she knew, they both knew, that it was time.

Julie thought it was marvelous, wonderful, amazing. Of course girls talk among themselves, and her friend Sylvia had said how much her first time had hurt, and not really been very good. Other girls had said that it wasn't that bad, but Julie was unprepared for just how great this could be. There was a sharp pain, as Mickey broke through her maidenhead, but the pain didn't last, while the wonderful feeling of Mickey filling her up continued.

They went slowly, Mickey not wanting to hurt his wonderful Julie, and both of them knowing that they couldn't make noise. Maybe that helped give Mickey more control, allowed him to keep his approaching orgasm on a slow path rather than going off too soon, but she had no need for restraint, and her burning desire for her boyfriend pulled her climax up quickly. His muscular chest, his hard arms and legs, she could feel them as he embraced her, while they slowly moved together. At first, not really knowing what they were doing, it had been Mickey making all of the motion, as he rose and fell on top of her, stroking in and out of her womanhood. But as it built inside of her, Julie started moving as well, pushing up as Mickey was pushing down inside of her. Her long arms snaked around his ribcage, underneath his as he supported himself, as she put her hands on his back, feeling the muscles play under his skin. Her fingers tensed, first with her fingertips and then with her nails, into his back, communicating her passion and her need silently, but urgently. Her eyes shut tightly, her lips contorted in a grimace as she fought the urge to cry out in joy, as her climax took her over, tensing her lithe body, and, Mickey, seeing that she had her release, overjoyed with the happiness he had given her, could no longer control himself. He had intended to pull out, because they had taken no precautions, but in his own need, he emptied himself deeply within her.

oo0oo

As Julie looked down, and saw Rick's cock about to spear her, her own excitement rose even higher at this forbidden tryst. She knew that she shouldn't do this, but her passion was running too high, her need boiling up inside her. Looking back up at Rick's now shadowed eyes, she whispered, "Make love to me."

But Rick needed no permission. He was not a slow man, but one who took what he wanted, and when he slid inside of Julie, it wasn't with love or affection; it was with raw hunger. There was no gentleness here, as he pushed inside of her with one long, smooth stroke, burying himself balls deep inside of her.

Her nails were on his back, digging in hard, but Rick still had on his shirt and lab coat; he could feel what she was doing, but there was no pain from her digging into him like that. He knew, they both knew, that they had to remain quiet, lest they attract unwanted attention from anyone who might wander through the service corridor. It was usually empty, but this closet did not lock, and anyone who heard them could open the door in a flash.

Rick's technique was pretty awesome. He made love to her hard, but not slamming into her. Instead, as his strokes bottomed out, he pressed hard, his public bone pressing into her clitoris, but not slamming into it. In this position, with Julie seated on a stack of laundry, and him standing, facing her, he couldn't put provide much stimulation to her g-spot, because the angle wasn't right, but her clit was right there. He didn't particularly care about his sexual partner, other than to note that she was really cute and amazingly tall - for a woman, anyway - but he knew that the only chance he'd have to screw her again was to make the first time fantastic.

Not that he needed to screw her again: there were plenty of other fish in the sea, and he was an accomplished fisherman. But he knew that women, at least in general, talked, and if this chick talked, and he'd taken care of business, other nurses in the hospital would hear of his prowess, and that could only make them even more available and eager.

Julie had asked Rick to make love to her, but they weren't making love; they were just plain fucking. And it was a good fuck; he had, with just a kiss, made the water hot. Now, as he was stroking into her steadily, the pot was coming to a full boil. Then, almost without warning, the teakettle whistled, loud and clear, as Julie lost herself in orgasm. She clenched her legs around him, her knees bent and higher than his solid hips, pulling her on-the-spot lover as deeply into herself as she could, holding him tightly, and then he emptied himself inside of her.