Although Michael was with Mioko, his mind continued to wander back to when he was twenty in junior college. He was in his second and last year at Santa Monica JC, and became close the love of his life. At least she was at the time. Her name was Jessica Miller. She was eighteen and just out of high school. She had blond hair, blue eyes and a wonderful smile. Her face and body were things that God must have bragged about. Her figure was comparable to any girl he had seen in his father's PLAYBOY magazines, even better. Not too large, but almost perfect titties, and an absolutely perfect rear end. When he was close to her she had a special aroma; kind of like fresh baked cookies.
Michael was in love, or lust and could not think whenever she was around. Jessica and Michael had known each other since junior high school, when she tripped him accidentally in the hallway, but being two years younger, she was in a different class and they didn't hang around with the same crowd. As he was half Japanese, he had always felt that many people didn't like him very much. Even though the only obvious Japanese trait he had was slightly slanted eyes.
It was 1993, and Michael was in the student union one morning, reading a required book on Physics, while drinking a cup of vending machine coffee; which bordered on swill. He had wished that he hadn't waited a whole year between High School and JC, but he wanted to find himself, whatever that meant.
Miss. Miller came over to where he was seated and said,
"Hello Michael. Tell me; why don't you like me?"
Not being positive of her motives, Michael hesitated staring into her beautiful blue eyes. Then as he felt like he had nothing to loose he said,
"I do like you Jessica. I like you a lot. I always have."
"Then why haven't you ask me out? Do you think that I'm ugly, or not good enough for you?"
"God … no Jessica, you are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever known. It's … just … well … I …uh, it's that I don't, uh. Well I don't know. I never thought that you liked me, that way."
"So?" she asked abruptly, looking down at him.
"What?"
"Are you going just to sit there and stutter or are you going to ask me out?"
"Jessica, would you like to go out with me; please?"
With Michael's question, her demeanor made a hundred and eighty degree swing and she said in a sweet voice, "Yes Michael, I would love to go out with you." as though it had been his idea the entire time. "Tomorrow night we can double date with my friend Darlene and her boyfriend Mac. Be at my house at six-thirty, and dress casual. When you come over you can park your motorcycle in the back."
Jessica then turned like some ARMY sergeant had yelled "about face" then walked over and sat down by Darlene. Michael was in awe, as he would never been able to talk to anyone like that. He guessed he was just too shy. The idea of a double date, with "Mac"; George McKinley, was not an event to which Michael was looking forward. Mac was a self opinionated, jock. He was brash, boring and very much involved with himself, continually bragging about his prowess in the game of football; and incapable of carrying on a conversation on any other subject. To tell the truth, Mac was a very good football player, and probably would have been playing for an 'Ivy League' college, had his grades been better. Michael just couldn't get passed Mac's incessant bragging, but for Jessica he would fight his natural revulsion and make the attempt.
Saturday, Michael was up early and did his "chores". When he told his mother about the double date with Jessica, she told him to put on a suit and she would to pick out a tie for him, until he explained that it was a casual date and Jessica had told him to "dress casual".
"Well OK Michael, but this is a first date. You do want to impress the young lady don't you?"
"She must already have been impressed Mom. She ask me out, in a round about way."
"You shouldn't be surprised? You are a very handsome young man. Many of my friends have commented that you look like a younger version of that news commentator on channel 7. You know who I'm talking about don't you? The anchor man."
"David Ono?"
"Yes … David Ono. I knew that I would think of his name."
Michael knew not to argue about who thought of his name and said,
"A few of my friends in school have said the same thing. Maybe there is something to it."
"Ok, well have fun. When do you think you will be coming home?"
"I don't know, but not too late as Jessica is only eighteen and she may have an early curfew."
"OK Michael, be on your best behavior."
"Yes Mom, I will."
At six-twenty five, Michael pulled his Kawasaki motorcycle up Jessica's driveway. He did as she told him and parked it in the backyard, where nobody would bother it. He locked it and knocked on the back porch door. After a couple of minutes, Jessica's mother came to the door with a mixed drink in her hand.
"You must be Michael. Jessica has been talking about you for a long time. I'm her mother. You can call me Ann. Come on in Michael."
At that point, he didn't know what to do, as Ann, who was between thirty and thirty-five, was wearing an almost transparent yellow nightgown, yellow see through panties, a white garter belt and high heals. It was like looking into the sun. He felt as though his might go blind if he looked directly at her. She was as beautiful and as sexy as her daughter, just a slightly older version. They looked like sisters, but not like Mother and Daughter. She sure didn't look like Michael's mother, or any others mothers he had ever seen. Ann didn't even look like a mother. She looked more like a PLAYBOY playmate of the month or a Victoria's Secret model. At the time he had a feeling that he should call Hugh Hefner or maybe Larry Flynt.
"Jessica is still getting ready." Ann said, sitting on the couch, slowly sipping her drink. "Don't tell her I told you, but she is really excited. Sit down and relax." She pointed to the chair across from her. "You know how girls are when they are getting ready for a date."
"No, not really." He mumbled nervously, sitting across from Ann keeping his posture as straight as possible. He could not believe his eyes, as Ann was leaning back on the couch with her legs spread wide, her pussy slit showing through the gossamer, almost invisible panties, revealing that she had recently shaved her pussy mound clean. The scene reminded him of a PLAYBOY article. It was called "The girls of Copenhagen", which showed the Danish prostitutes sitting in the windows of the whorehouses, displaying their charms. When Michael's cock began to stiffen he heard her say,
"Trust me, they want to be perfect for their man. You must be someone very special; for her to take two showers before a date. She has been getting ready all day. I really hope you are worth it. Jess said that you were handsome, but she didn't say how handsome. She probably didn't want any competition from me. If you had been my boyfriend in junior high, I probably would have been pregnant long before I was fifteen."
Michael just smiled. What could he say to her statement? He was pleased that she thought he was nice looking, but embarrassed all the same, so he said,
"Thank you Mrs. Miller."
"My name is Ann. Ann Edwards. Mrs. Miller was Jessica's grandmother. I was never married to her Dad. We were just friends. Really good friends." she said finishing her drink; then added, "and He was really well hung."
Just then Jessica came out of her bedroom. She looked so fantastic; that Michael was afraid his eyes would begin to bleed. He had an urge to grab her, throw her down on the couch, pull off her panties and fuck her right there in front of her mother. But even though her mother appeared to be very liberal, he didn't think she was quite that liberal.
"You look wonderful Jessica."
"Thank you Michael, you look very nice yourself."
Not knowing what else to say, he stood there and stared at Jessica, glancing at her Mother every so often. Jessica was wearing a very short lavender mini skirt, a light green, almost see through blouse and white running shoes, with long white stockings that came almost up to her knees. It was funny, but she made no mention of how her mother was dressed. The front doorbell chimed and Jessica said,
"I'll get it."
Her friend Darlene was at the door and Mac was in his car, with the engine running. Jessica called to her mother to tell her that they were leaving; then beckoned for Michael to go with her. Michael made a suave "Three Musketeer; Count of MonteCristo" type gesture, which was completely lost on Ann, and started for the front door. Ann called out,
"Jessica did you take your medication?"
"Yes Ann." Jessica replied sounding a little frustrated.
"I won't be home before morning Jessica, so if the kids want to stay over, it's OK!"
"Thanks Ann, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight baby. Have a good time. Goodnight Michael, please don't keep her awake all night."
"No maim. I won't."
"Ann. My name is Ann. Not maim. Got it stud?"
"Yes Ann! I'm sorry. Goodnight."
When Michael came out the front door, Jessica and Darlene were already in the car. He got in the back door and settled down next to Jessica. When Mac asked for Michael's opinion of his car, Michael said truthfully that he thought it was great. A new subject for Mac, Michael thought. At least he wasn't talking about football.
"Don't tell anybody," Mac said, not watching the road and continually looking over his shoulder at Michael, "but Coach Kusha of California Tech got together with the Alumni Association and got the car for me so I'll play football at his school. I just gotta' get my grades up first."
"California Tech has some very high academic standards. Do you think you can bring your grades up high enough?" asked Michael.
"Well they're working on it, but the coach said it would take a couple of months so I ain't goin' to school right now."
Months? Thought Michael; a couple of hundred years maybe. But Mac had said, 'They are working on it?' OK Michael understood now. Mac was a 'shoo-in', and wasn't concerned with little things like grades. He would end up a college graduate, Pro NFL player, who couldn't put a paragraph together if his life depended on it. Jessica looked at Michael with her bottom lip sticking out, like a naughty girl who had just shaved her little brother's head and said,
"Kiss me Michael."
