I think this is something I've been missing. Writing captions is all well and good, but, for me, a good, old-fashioned text story is when you can go to some really interesting places. I love creating characters, and, sometimes, I feel limited by the scope of a captioned photograph. Anyway, I think you'll all enjoy this quite a lot.
After that first date, Amy and I were pretty much inseparable. Nobody understood us; who could? She was gorgeous, and could have any guy she wanted. And she picked me. To everyone else (and to me, if I'm being honest), it just didn't make sense.
But a funny thing happened when I was with her. Any other time, my head was filled with doubts and an inescapable awareness of just how unmanly I was. But when I was with Amy, it all just melted away. Self-doubt? Gone. Reservations? Vanished. I was a different person, a better me, when we were together.
Each time I was alone, though, I realized just how strange our relationship was. I mean, I'm not stupid. I hadn't lived an isolated, sheltered life. Sure, I looked innocent and all, but inside, I was just like any other teenager. I had seen movies. I knew what the relationship between a man and a woman was supposed to look like. I knew the role I was supposed to play. I just couldn't do it. When I was with her, I just kind of fell into a submissive role. It felt natural to let her pick me up for our dates. It was normal that she initiated everything.
I was still shy, though, and things went pretty slowly. Maybe she was waiting on me to make a move, or something. Or she might not have been ready, either. But it was almost a year before we went past making out.
We were sitting on my bed, having just watched a movie. Mom was out for the night, so we were completely alone. And of course, we were kissing.
I felt a hand on my crotch. I was scared, at first. What if she didn't like me after she found out how small it was? I tried to pull away, but even I'll admit that it was only a half-hearted effort. I felt it harden. Amy's hand moved up and down, caressing me through my jeans.
I leaned back, and, Amy went with me. Her hand was still down there as we continued to kiss. I felt the button on my jeans unclasp. Amy pulled away, and I opened my eyes. She smiled at me. No words. Just that mischievous grin.
She pulled down the zipper. This was it. This was the moment where she would either laugh at me or accept me. She knelt between my legs.
Amy pulled my jeans down. Then came my underwear.
I was afraid to look. I knew I was completely erect. No laughs. That was good, right? I can't describe the torture of those few seconds. It was like my every fear coalesced at once to fight in my tummy.
And then, with a simple flick of her tongue, Amy dispelled them all.
It wasn't so much the way it felt, physically. It was the knowledge that I'd been accepted, that she didn't care about...you know. That's what will stick with me for the rest of my life.