All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18.
Poster Girl
Daryl gazed at the smooth skin of the young woman. Her skin glistened with water droplets that supposedly clung to her skin after emerging from the nearby ocean. He'd seen enough 'Behind the Scenes' stories to know the drops had probably been sprayed on with a spritzer bottle and the model may not have stepped in the water for over a week. But shoving that aside, he immersed himself in the fantasy.
She was lovely. Dressed in a bikini that was not scandalous as bikinis go, but showed more than enough skin for Daryl's needs. He imagined walking up to her on the beach. He introduced himself and talked with her. He wasn't overly witty, but he didn't stumble on his tongue. She smiled and didn't look at other guys. She was interested in him, and him alone. He took her up to the boardwalk to play a few carnival games. He won a dart throwing game and she picked out a stuffed bear, which she named Daryl, Jr. He would keep her warm at night when Daryl wasn't available she said coquettishly. They walked back to Daryl's car. He drove her home to his apartment. They made love slowly and passionately until they crested and crashed in unison.
And then Daryl reached for a spare towel to clean up. No living girl was going to show him any attention, so this was the only way to find relief. His car was an old beater that required frequent up keep. (Fortunately this was the 90's and it was still possible for an average guy to keep a car running on his own. Oil change, spark plug replacement, and filter changes every three or four months kept it humming nicely.) His apartment was an addition over his mother's garage. It wasn't much, but it gave him some distance from her frequent male-bashing comments that were always followed by "Oh but not you, Daryl." when she noticed (or remembered) he was in the room. And as for love-making, he had no illusions about his skills or equipment. He'd had one girlfriend at the age of 19. She was his first date, first kiss, first.... well a few others you can imagine. She was also his introduction to the lesson many young men wind up learning first hand - never stick your dick in crazy! He had no idea how much of her reactions were faked.
After he broke up with Kasey, he went back to his prior state. He couldn't talk to a girl without his brain going into vapor lock. Well, he could talk to a girl, just not about his interest in her. If he could focus on something he knew and just talk about that, he was fine. He did a fair bit of tutoring. Mostly with girls because they were the ones ready to admit they needed assistance. Guys waited until two days before a major test and then begged for two to three hours straight of tutoring. Girls set up a one hour a week timeslot at the beginning of the semester and stuck with it. Talking to them during tutoring was no problem. He still got nervous even then, but he could handle it.
The mess cleaned up, he tossed the towel towards the laundry hamper, pulled up the covers and drifted off to sleep.
******
As he awoke the next morning, Daryl swore there was someone next to him. A body pressed up against him. A head resting on his shoulder. A hand on his chest. A bent knee over his leg. A pleasingly round rump pressed against his hand. But that was only in the first hazy moments of wakefulness. The sensation was gone well before his eyes opened.
He looked up to see still eyes gazing back from the poster. Lifeless? They should be. It's just a poster. There only seemed to be life behind them when he fantasized. And no, he didn't 'take care of business' every time he stared at the poster and imagined being in her company. Somehow, for a moment, there appeared to be something more there in the eyes. Someone looking back at him.
Get ahold of yourself dude. You've really got to do something. But where am I going to find someone that would settle for me?
Daryl went through his morning routine, then headed down to the driveway, slipped into the driver's seat of his ten-year-old mini-size truck and headed off for another day of classes and tutoring.
******
"Hi Daryl." I looked up to see Kate's shining eyes. Her smile was radiant as always. Another lovely lady whose beauty only deepened when you look beneath the surface.
Too bad I'd never have a chance with her. Besides, even though there are no rules banning it, dating someone I'm tutoring would be a bit sketchy.
She frequently came to me for study help. Three semesters in a row now. After this semester, she only had one more required math class. Though really, she understood the work quite well. She just lacked confidence in herself. That was true of more than half the ladies I worked with. I spent more time boosting their confidence in their abilities than actually explaining the math concepts.
"Hi Kate."
God, I could go swimming in those eyes
. The liquid brown of her irises brought to mind Jimmy Buffett's "Brown Eyed Girl". That song made me fall in love with steel drums. "So what questions do you have today?"
"Graphing," she said with disgust "now we have to apply all the stuff we learned earlier. The hard part for me is finding the peaks and troughs."
"The problem asked you to do that?" I asked with a frown.
"Um. I think so. The instructor said to be thorough in our graphing. I figured labeling the peaks and troughs would be a necessary part of that."
"Okay, let's look at the instructions first." She opened the book and began turning pages. As I watched her hands and the passing pages, my peripheral vision picked up motion and drew my eyes to her chest. Her shirt was unbuttoned a bit lower than usual. Well, I think it may have been that low a few times in the past month, but the shirt hadn't gapped open as it was today. I could see soft skin and the upper border of her bra. I looked up, taking my eyes off the thrilling sight that was not mine to behold. "Uh, Katie, you're showing more than you intend" I said, eyes riveted on the acoustic tiles above. Again, peripherally, I saw her head pivot towards me. "Oh. Sorry." Her hand moved slowly towards her shirt, buttoning two buttons. Her voice sounded strangely flat. The liveliness that abounded when she entered had disappeared.
Great, now she feels awkward that I saw part of her breast. Nice job jackass
. I felt a stirring in my crotch.
Yup, see, Mom was right, just another bastard wanting something from a woman she doesn't want to give.
"Okay, so read the instructions above the exercises."
She studied them for a moment. "It doesn't say find the peaks or troughs."
"Yeah, I didn't think it would. There is a way to do that, but it's a calculus technique." She pulled back like I'd just invited her to go hunting for rattlesnakes. "With algebra tools, you could approximate the coordinates by guessing and plugging into the equation, but that is cumbersome and not worth the effort. Heck, it would be faster to just teach you the calculus method."
"I am not smart enough for calculus."
"You have the brains for it. You just lack the confidence. And need. Your degree doesn't require calculus."
"If I had the brains for calculus, I wouldn't be so dumb to qualify for a free hour of tutoring every week in
developmental
math."
"Your brain can handle math concepts perfectly fine. It just likes playing musical chairs with the symbols, especially when you get stressed." She smirked and punched me lightly in the arm. Her eyes had an odd shimmery, slightly pained look. As if something she wanted had been taken away or held just out of reach.
God, I'd love to give you anything you ever wanted - if I had any fucking money!
