"I'm not ready to go back yet, but it's not like there's anything I can do about it, so I might as well just go with it," I said, half-staring down at my own feet. It was the day before I would begin the long four of years of the hell that was high school, and although I was intrigued by the idea of new people, a new building, and hopefully better food, my excitement and enthusiasm ended there. I had despised being a freshman in junior high, and I was just about to endure another year of the lowly freshman life, this time in a slightly bigger building.
My name is Scott. I'm a fairly tall guy with a thick head of brown hair, which I used to dye constantly during high school. I've got naturally tanned, naturally smooth skin, and in spite of my good looks and warm personality, I was terribly shy, and never seemed to be too lucky when it came to the opposite sex. I'd had tons of girl friends during my life, but there's a line between having a girl friend and having a girlfriend that I've hardly ever managed to cross.
I had just been introduced to John, a kid who had just moved to town from a couple towns over. A mutual friend of ours presided over the meeting between us, and as I met John, I met his brother, his father, and his mother, Helen. Upon meeting Helen, I became instantly infatuated with her. A woman in her late thirties, she was about my height, with an overall thin frame, save for her shapely hips. She had golden, shoulder-length hair, which I suspected was dyed, but I couldn't tell for sure. Her lips were thin, the corners upturned the slightest bit, just enough to tell that she was smiling. And her eyes, they were captivating. Bright blue doe-esque eyes, they looked even prettier framed by her blonde bangs that hung down over her forehead, just stopping above her thin eyebrows. She dressed modestly, in a white tee shirt and long khaki pants. I looked down at her feet, noticing the she wasn't wearing socks, instead, she appeared to be wearing pantyhose. She was like a dream come true. I'm not saying that every man in the world would die for her, but I found her absolutely stunning.
She began to ask me various questions about school, my family, my friends. I was surprised at how friendly she was, seeing as how she'd just met me. After going out to lunch with everybody, John invited my friend and I over to his new house to play video games, watch television, the usual itinerary for a group of teenage boys. My fickle mind had forgotten about Helen altogether, and proceeded to concentrate on the flickering light of the TV screen in front of us.
School began, and John and I became better friends as autumn turned to winter, winter turned to spring, and summer arrived, bringing with it the glorious end of another long school year. Over the summer, John and I were practically inseparable, and our time together caused me to wind up in the presence of Helen more and more often. I'd taken into account how beautiful she looked, and as I'd gotten to know more about John, I learned more about her, too. She didn't smoke, didn't drink, she never swore, and she had the personality of an angel. I never saw her get so much as upset, let alone angry. She was sweet and friendly, and even though I was John's friend, not hers, I still found her company to be very enjoyable, and she was lovely to be around.
By the end of the summer, I had become infatuated with Helen again. This time, my mind was not about to forget how attractive she was, and I knew that I had developed a tremendously powerful crush on her. I would go to John's house, and at the end of each day that I'd seen her there, I'd go home and think about her as I jerked off. I'd seen her in a bathing suit a few times when we went to the town pool, and the thought of the wet fabric of the suit clinging to her skin was enough to keep my mind satisfied for weeks. It got to the point that if I didn't think that anyone was watching, I'd rush up to her room and steal a pair of her panties from her drawer. They were plain, white cotton panties, nothing too sexy, but I imagined where they'd been, and they became treasures to me. I was too rational to let my imagination get the best of me, though. I was just a kid, and she was married. I knew that I could never be with her, but wishful thinking never killed anybody, so I kept on picturing her each night while I masturbated.
The years seemed to fly by, which surprised me. I had thought that high school would take forever, but before I knew it, I was finishing up my senior year, and I was turning eighteen years old. By this time, though, I was on the other side of the country, going to a new high school. I never stopped thinking about Helen, and how much I wished that I could be with her. Even as I lost my virginity to my girlfriend, I kept an image of Helen in the back of my mind, and I wondered what it would be like to make love to her. I pictured the two of us kissing, touching, there were so many scenarios that had played out in my mind. We'd had sex on a beach, in her bed, in my bed, in the back of a bar, even in a phone booth! And it was all happening in my mind. My infatuation turned crush of Helen soon turned into an obsession, a desire to make love with her. I knew that the likelihood of such a situation would be slim to none, and the fact that I'd moved to the other side of the country didn't exactly work in my favor.
At the end of my senior year, I surprised John by telling them that I planned on paying him a visit. I said that I would stay in a nearby motel, and that I'd be around for about a week or so. When John heard this, he told me that he was happy to learn about my trip, but he added that it wasn't necessary for me to find a motel when his family would be happy to let me stay with them during my visit. I thanked him, and told him that I'd see him soon.
Needless to say, I was ecstatic! Not only would I be able to dodge the cost of a motel room, but I was going to spend an entire week in the vicinity of Helen! Upon thinking of this, the familiar scenario of the two of us together popped into my head, and I immediately began to jerk off, imagining Helen and I in her room.
I arrived at John's house a week later, and received a slap on the back from John, and another slap on the back from his brother. John accused his brother of copying him and told him to stop, and they immediately began to fight. I silently thanked God for making me an only child. As the two boys roughhoused, Helen walked up to me and gave me a hug. She stepped back and looked me up and down, and I did the same. She was as breathtaking as ever, looking as gorgeous as she did the day I'd met her four long years ago. She said that I looked great, and I could feel butterflies tearing through my body as I began to blush. I said that it felt good to be back, and that the place looked vaguely familiar, my exact words. Helen chuckled and turned around, heading for the kitchen. She said that they'd set up their den for me, turning it into a makeshift guest room, and I told her that I appreciated her letting me stay with them. She said it was no trouble, and I could have sworn that she gave me a strange look as she spoke, but it was late, and having just gotten off of a plane, I was exhausted. I figured I must have imagined the look that she gave me.
I fell asleep shortly after, and dreamt about Helen. The look from before kept floating through my mind. I didn't even know if she had given me a look, and, if she had, if she was aware that she had. Yet I couldn't stop thinking about it. Did it mean anything? What did it mean? What could it have meant?
I woke up with a dry taste in my mouth. Half-asleep, I made my way to the downstairs bathroom, where I washed, brushed, got dressed. I left the bathroom, only to find Helen standing in the kitchen, washing dishes. We said our good mornings, and then I looked around the house for a moment.
"It's suspiciously quiet around here," I joked. "Where is everybody?"
Helen turned back to me, and started pacing slowly. "Well, let's see, Dad's at work, Brett's at a friend's house, John's taking a class at the community college, and I'm leaving for work in about half an hour." She smiled. Her eyes seemed to shine.
"John didn't tell me anything about a class," I said.
She sat down next to where I stood. "He's got a computer class every weekday up there."
I knew that John was interested in computer design. "Sounds like fun." I sat down in the chair adjacent to hers, and nodded sharply to accentuate the word "fun".
She laughed. I loved her laughter. She had the faintest Southern accent, and her laughter always seemed to ring throughout the inside of my body, giving me chills. I decided that I would go out, and that I'd bring back lunch for John, Helen and I. Helen told me that she and John should be back by the time I got home.
I came back to the house, and, unlike this morning, it was filled with noise. The television set in the living room had been turned on, and some cartoon show was blaring through the rooms on ground floor. I heard additional noises from upstairs, but they weren't noises that I'd ever heard in John's house before. I looked outside the back window to find John's car parked in the driveway. I slowly crept up the stairs and peeked around the corner into the only room that I could see clearly: John's. Inside were John and Helen, standing in the middle of the room, yelling back and forth at one another. I immediately turned and snuck back down the stairs, surprised, shocked, even a little scared. I had never heard yelling in the house before, especially from Helen. I put the sandwiches that I'd picked up on the kitchen counter, and solemnly retreated to the den.
