Lost At Christmas: Part 2

A vulnerable confrontation with an old crush.

Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time.

Christmas

What had started out with the potential for so much disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes. After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told stories of the last few years.

I sat close to Sheri when I could, beside her at the dinner table, and next to her on the couch while we had our eggnog. I tried to engage her in some quiet conversation of our own, but the setting was all wrong for that, and I eventually abandoned those attempts. It was nice enough just to be near her.

Tommy's step-father Dave, insisted I call Santiago, even though I knew the price would be outrageous, and I did. I gave my family my Christmas wishes, and told them how much I missed them and was looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days. Everyone in the room took a minute to say hello and share season's greetings. I had to spend a few minutes trying to get my Mom to stop crying at the far end, before we finally were able to hang-up.

The small ones had to go to bed relatively early, and so we all got to open one gift the night before, as was their tradition. I gave Tommy his gift, and his mother opened the family gift and everyone acted pleased. In turn, they had bought me a present which I opened. It was two books for the trip, and they had a card for me. Inside was $50. I was completely in shock.

"Dear Steve,

Your short visit was a wonderful Christmas gift to us all. Thanks so much for choosing to spend this Christmas with us. Here's some mad money for the trip home. We all love you.

Dave, June, Robert, Sheri, John and Jean"

I was deeply touched by the gesture. I went over and gave Tommy's Mom a big hug, thanking her for the card and books. The kids jumped up with presents of their own, and I got two new drawings for my dorm room, as well as some mystery invention from John, which was supposed to be a spy tool to stop people from breaking into my room. I thanked them profusely, and they were put to bed shortly after.

Dave, Tommy and I discussed the logistics of my morning bus ride back to Charleston. It left at 7:30 am, but was only about 15 minutes away, so we figured on getting a 7:00am start. We relaxed around the fire, ruminating on the poor souls who had the job of driving that bus all day Christmas day.

There was a guitar in the corner, Greg's. I was surprised he hadn't taken it with him. I went over and grabbed it, and finding it miserably out of tune, I tuned it up.

"Play something Christmassy", Tommy's Mom asked, and so I played a couple of tunes. I'm a fair guitarist; I was studying guitar at the Eastman School of Music since it was convenient, and ROTC was picking up the tab, and had improved quite a bit from the days of our first band. I got rave reviews from my small audience, and took requests for a while, before we broke it up. The parents still had some work to do for the kids, and Tommy and I wanted to hit the hay early, in order to catch that 7:30 bus.

More hugs and kisses all around, with a firm handshake for Dave, and I retired to my room to finish my packing. I got ready for bed, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, laid out my clothes for the morning, and completed my packing. I had one last thing I wanted to do before hitting the sack, so I went back into the bathroom, and knocked on the opposite door into Sheri's room.

I heard a muffled "Come in" or something to that effect, and opened the door to find Sheri sitting up in bed, brushing her long blonde hair. She was dressed in a nearly see-through pale green nightie that took my breath away.

"Hi." I felt incredibly awkward, like I was 16 all over again.

She looked up at me, giving me a quizzically upraised eyebrow.

"I had a gift for you, but I felt kind of silly giving it to you out there. I hope you don't mind that I waited until now." I handed her a small leather pouch.

She took it, laying her brush to the side, and opened it, pulling out a small cross. She stretched out the cord, and looked at me in surprise.

"But this is your mountain cross! You always wear this!" She said, looking at me with a strange look I couldn't quite fathom.

The cross was one I had found mountain climbing several years earlier. I had been in a small accident. I'd fallen into a glacier fed stream on a mountain trip, while collecting firewood in a storm. I'd almost frozen before I'd made it back to the cabin. Literally. I thought I was going to die. I was staggering the last 20 feet to the building, in a daze, when a friend returning from the outhouse ran into me, and dragged me inside to warm up. The next morning I found a small ivory cross on a rotted leather lanyard at almost the very place I had climbed out of the stream, and I had worn it for years since then. Sheri knew the story. I had told her the whole thing one evening when I had been giving her driving lessons.

I don't know what had motivated me to give it to her, but I had had this urge, and I've always been a pretty impetuous person.

"I just want you to have it." I explained.

She patted the bed beside her for me to sit down then she handed me the cross to put around her neck and turned her back to me. I passed my hands over the head, letting the cross dangle in the valley between her breasts, and she reached back and pulled her hair up and out of the way, so I could latch the necklace on her.

When I was done she turned to me, and fingering the cross she thanked me.

"I got the strangest call today." She told me.

"Strange how?" I asked.

"Kathryn called me. We haven't talked probably in over a year, but she called me out of the blue, and we talked about nothing but you for over an hour." She said with a teasing smile.

I could feel my face burning from the blush.

We were real quiet for a bit. Then she spoke up softly, not looking at me at all, just looking down at her hands.

"Do you remember the skating party where you asked me to skate, like 5 times?"

"Do I ever! My hand was so sweaty I was embarrassed to hold yours, but didn't know how to dry it off, and I wasn't good enough a skater to make a real dance out of it." I laughed.

"I thought you liked me, and were going to ask me out, but you never did. Why not?" She asked.

The memory was embarrassing, and I thought about it a bit before confessing. "I had skated with Kathryn earlier in the evening, and she asked me who I liked. I told her I would answer by the end of the evening. Later, just when I was trying to get the nerve up to skate with you again, and ask you to sit by me on the Pensacola bus trip, Jack found me and told me that I had better ask Kathryn to skate. She was waiting for me to tell her something. Well, I did ask her to skate, and she reminded me of our previous conversation.

I admitted that I really liked two people, you and her. Then she asked me if I minded if she 'monopolized' me for a while. I went along. You know the rest. One out-of-town bus trip; one back-row of the movie; and me completely screwing everything up."

She listened without showing too much surprise. "But how come you never tried anything after that?"

"God! How could I? You knew everything that had happened. Don't you remember the time I stopped by when Net was over here spending the night. Every time I passed you guys, you seemed to be laughing at me. And then when you passed me in the hall and whispered, "Oooh, I Love You," teasing me with what I'd said to Kathryn before completely blowing her off, I was just devastated. I hadn't screwed up just the one chance, but you as well."

Sheri had the grace to blush from embarrassment at that. "I really didn't know much of what was going on. Kathryn just told me to go up to you and say that. I'm sorry."

"Not half as sorry as I was." I told her. "You had to know how much I liked you. I was always trying to be around you and do things with you."

"I didn't know how much of that was just being Tommy's sister, or what. I kept waiting for you to try something, anything, but you never did." She looked at me intensely almost with anguish.

I was 16 all over again. I was still embarrassed over my ineptness around women. I had screwed things up with Kathryn. I had screwed up with Teri. And I had screwed up with Sheri. Since then I'd had more than my share of success with the young women I'd known, but all of a sudden, it was like I was a clumsy, scared virgin all over again.

Sheri looked at me for a long while, then finally sighed and looked away, picking up her brush and going back to brushing her hair. "Some things will never change, I guess," she muttered, ignoring me.

I started to get up, to go to my room, knowing this was neither the time, nor the place to try to start something with Sheri, but I just couldn't leave things as they were. I reached out and took the brush from her, which she relinquished slowly. I then took her by the shoulders and turned her away from me, so I could brush her hair.

I brushed her hair in silence for a bit, before speaking. "For at least a year after leaving here, I would dream about you all the time. You were the girl of my fantasies. We wrote so well for a while, and I kept all your letters, reading them over and over again, looking for hidden meaning in the words, wondering if I'd ever get a chance to be with you. I still have those letters." I confessed.

Several long seconds later Sheri reached down to the bottom drawer of her chest, next to the bed and opened it. She reached under her sweaters, and pulled out a pile of letters held together with a rubber-band. I recognized my writing.

She turned to look at me, and her eyes glistened. I dropped the brush, leaned over and nervously kissed her, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't throw me out of her room with a ruckus.

Instead she turned, and returned my kiss with a depth and passion I could only have prayed for.

When we broke apart, we just looked at each other. Suddenly I couldn't help but giggle.

"What?" She asked, almost crossly.

"Do you remember how you thought you'd get pregnant from French kissing?" I recalled.

She blushed again. "I can't believe you still remember that, you beast. How did you find that out anyway?"

"Kathryn told me on the bus trip. I think she was trying to make you seem naive to me, sort of solidify her hold on me." I told her.

"That Bitch! She always denied it, but I couldn't think of anyone else who knew."

We laughed a bit, and gradually fell back into kissing each other.

At the next break in our kissing, Sheri nailed me again. "Tommy said you did it with Angela. Was she your first?"

"No. I never did do it with her. And Colleen was my first." I admitted.

"Colleen? From yearbook?"

"Yeah. But not until a year later. She went to Mosley with me, and we hooked up at a party. It was weird and nothing much happened of it. Three weeks later I was headed to Chile." I told her.

She just shook her head at me.

"Since it's time for true confessions, who was your first?" I asked teasing. "Rich? Mike?"

"Oh God, no!" she laughed.

"Then who?"

She never answered, just turned a bright red.

"Come on, fair's fair. I told you." I urged her relentlessly.

She mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"I can't hear you, who was it?" I teased again.

She looked up, almost fiercely. "Nobody, all right?"

I was stunned, and the ensuing silence seemed endless.

"You're kidding me." I finally said, hardly believing.

Her answer was so soft I almost missed it. "At one time I thought you'd be my first."

This time when we kissed, I allowed my hands to wander, throwing caution to the wind. I cupped her perfect young breast in my hand, letting my thumb brush across her nipple, getting it hard. We were both gasping when we broke apart.

"Steve?"

"Yes?"

"Go close your door, and turn off your light, then turn off the light in the bathroom," she said softly.

I did, and she had turned down the light in her room. She was lying in the bed, the covers folded down neatly, waiting for me. She was still in her nightie.

I stood beside the bed and made my commitment. I removed my shirt, and then my shorts, sporting a huge hard-on, which she stared at in wonder. I climbed into her bed completely naked.

She had been laying sideways, leaning on her elbow, but as I entered the bed, she rolled onto her back, lying down, waiting for me. She was achingly beautiful in the dim light, and I was afraid I was going to come on the spot if she even touched me.

I leaned over her and kissed her, but this time the kiss never stopped. I lost my soul in that kiss. I lost all track of time and presence. Our mouths stayed connected as we explored and played with our tongues, and my hands embarked on their exploration of the wonders of her body. My hands touched her all over, before finally settling in the warm crease between her legs. She had panties on, and as my fingers rubbed up and down her hidden folds, I found a small wet spot, maybe the size of a dime slowly spreading. Once I was aggressively rubbing her, sliding the material up and down, half-an inch into her by this time, the wetness enveloped the entire area. I slid my hand less than a foot up her body, and let my finger tips creep under the band of her panties. My hand slid down, the soft down of her hair like a magical lure, the gentle pressure of her panties against the back of my hand trapping me.

Our kiss finally broke, and from an inch away we looked into each other's eyes as I slowly slid my middle finger between those forbidden lips, and into her. The aroma of her need assaulted me, and the quiet squish of her wetness against my finger was the ultimate aphrodisiac. I was engulfed with desire.

I started to crawl over her, placing my knee between hers when she stopped me.

"Wait."

Then she raised her hips, and scrunched down, raised her knees, moments later passing me a small, but incredibly erotic piece of plain, white material.

I was beyond reason, and I climbed between her legs. She spread them for me, seeming as eager as I. I grabbed my throbbing rod in hand, and by feel, rubbed the head up and down her moistness, adding pressure bit by bit, until I felt it settle in at the mouth of her pussy. She gave a small gasp, as the head slid in just a bit, not quite in her yet, but knowing that I was one small push from being inside.

"Be gentle," she said, and I could see a hint of nervousness and fear in her eyes.

I leaned over and kissed her softly, and while our lips touched, I pushed, sinking into her. At least for a bit. About halfway in I hit a barrier. I was confused at first. I pulled back and pushed again, a little harder, thinking I was sticking, and she grunted a little as if in pain.

It finally sunk in. I had been with plenty of women, and several who had claimed to be virgins, but none with their cherry intact. I wasn't sure what to do.

I probed again, and this time elicited a small 'ow'. What was I to do? I lay on top of her, my cock buried four inches deep in the girls of my dreams, and I was at a complete loss.

Sheri shifted a bit under me, wrapped her legs around mine, and pulled me close. She whispered into my ear.

"Take me."

It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. Nervously I pulled back until I was just at the opening and I drove down hard, feeling just a pinch before my pelvis was grinding into hers. I was completely inside her.

I got up on my elbows and looked down at her. I could see a single wet trail that glistened from the side of her eye to her ear.

"Are you ok?" I asked her, holding myself still, deep inside of her.

"Wonderful," she said softly, tilting her chin up slightly for a kiss.

I accepted the offer, and kissed her gently, while I experimented with moving my cock within her incredibly tight sheath. I felt I was only moments from coming, but I couldn't resist moving my hips just a bit, exploring the feeling of being inside her.

I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I always wanted you. You knew it. I knew it. But I was afraid. I was afraid of the ribbing from your brother. Afraid of being exposed for knowing nothing about what to do with a girl.

Afraid of ruining our friendship.

Afraid of striking out, and you telling all the other girls, and my being the laughingstock.

Afraid of so many stupid things.

I was an idiot."

"You weren't afraid of Kathryn," she answered softly.

"She initiated it all. She pushed forward, asking to monopolize me, holding my hand. I probably never would have made the move. If I could change one thing, it would be that skating party. I should have saved that last moonlight skate for you, and asked you out. I should have told Kathryn that you were the one girl I was interested in. Who knows how things might have worked out? Plus, it wasn't as big a deal. If things didn't work out, oh well. But if I ruined things with you, it would have killed all my dreams."

She was hot beneath me, her skin almost burning to my touch, I was finally moving inside of her, but I quickly had to stop, again on the verge of coming, and embarrassed at my short trigger.

"Make love to me Steve," she said breathlessly.

I gave a few more strokes and had to stop again.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I'm so excited I'm on the verge of coming now. If I move I won't be able to stop," I finally confessed.

"Do it. Pump me, take me, come deep inside me," she answered.

Those words were too much, and with a gasp I drove my cock in hard, and exploded inside her. I pulled back and slammed into her a dozen times or so, making the bed creak alarmingly as I emptied myself inside her virgin moistness.

As my heart hammer away in my chest, and my breathing gasped, she gave me a small joyous laugh.

"Wow, I guess you were close!"

Then she gave a big hug before she pushed me off of her. She climbed over me, her hand pressed between her legs and scrambled into the bathroom, waddling inelegantly but still incredibly arousing to me.

I heard her tinkle, and then return to the bed with a facecloth with which she wiped my semi-hard cock clean. Then she climbed into bed, her head on my shoulder and talked. She recounted almost ever time that we'd been together alone, all the adventures we'd had, the summer we'd learned to play tennis together, and what she'd thought might happen. We laughed a little at my ineptness and her caution as well. Then I felt her hand creep down between my legs.

"Do you think we could try that again?" she asked me hesitantly.

"I'm dying to, but I was afraid I might have hurt you." I laughed my foolish insecure laugh.

"So hurt me," she teased, giving a tug on my cock.

This time I held out a little better. I climbed between her legs again, and made love to her, still gently, still nervous. But before long I was feeling that familiar rhythm of need, and my strokes became longer and more insistent. I had to have her. I had to take her. I had to fill her deeply, completely. I sat up in the bed, discarding the covers, and raised her legs, pushing them back, and screwing her powerfully, shaking her body, crashing into her with a burning need. She was still wearing her nightie, but it had ridden up above her belly button, just a couple of inches below her breasts.

I stopped my motion and whispered to her, "Rise up on your elbows."

She looked at me oddly but did, raising her head a few inches off the pillow. I leaned over and lifted her nightie up above her breast, allowing me to see the objects of my desire and fantasies.

"God, I've pictured those in my mind for four years, and yet never came close to imagining how perfect and beautiful they are." I said, more to myself than to her.

I resumed my fucking, for that was what I was doing now, fucking her. Fucking her hard. She had her bottom lip captured between her teeth, and now she was holding her nightie in her hands, almost to her chin, allowing me an uninterrupted view of her oh-so-perfect tits.

The visuals were all too much and pushed me over the edge once again. The beautiful face, the long hair arrayed across the pillow, the full breasts, bouncing a counter-beat to my pounding, her flat stomach, hollowed, and the light fur of her hair parted to allow my pole to penetrate her again and again. With a moan I came for her again, collapsing beside her, sated, and in complete serenity and joy.

"I guess you really do like me," she laughed, cuddling up to my side. Then she was asking me about my afternoon meeting with Kathryn.

"What did she tell you?" I asked, a little nervous.

"No, you tell me what happened. I don't trust her," she insisted.

I told her the whole story, including the ending. In full short-but-sweet detail.

"I knew it!" She laughed. "She said you tried to come on to her, and made her grab you there, but she turned you down."

"If that's how she wants to tell it that's fine by me. I owe her one; let her have it however she wants." I said

"When you went to the movies, what really happened there?" she asked, with her one-track mind.

I wasn't sure what her preoccupation was but I finally told her the whole scene, everything I'd done, every liberty I'd taken. At the end I waited in judgment.

"She's such a liar. She said you tried to reach inside her pants but she stopped you."

"Hardly, I could smell her on my fingers for day afterwards." I laughed.

Sheri was lost in thought pressed up against me. My hands were idling rubbing her back, the material of her nightie soft and silky against my fingertips.

"I guess there's only one thing she's done with you that we haven't done," Sheri started, and then she slid under the covers and a moment later I felt the warm wetness of her mouth enveloping me.

I could see the covers moving as she used her mouth to pleasure me, taking only a few moments to make me hard, and then sucking me like there was no tomorrow. Which, in a way I guess there wasn't. I wanted to see her, so I pulled the covers back and looked down at her. She continued a few more strokes, then shifted and faced me a little more, finally lifting her eyes to watch me, watching her, suck my cock.

A few more deep strokes and she pulled off with a smile.

"I can see that's one thing you like," she said with a grin.

"Like is an understatement." I laughed.

She gave me a couple more sucks, and then she straddled me, and rose up to take me inside of her again. I wanted her so bad I could almost scream. She got me positioned right, and then slowly lowered herself the full length of my staff with one long, smooth stroke. Then, settled on my hips, my turgid meat buried in her achingly tight recess, she lifted the bottom of her nightie and pulled it up and over her head.

I'd been to several strip shows before that, but never in my life had I seen anything so beautiful or so erotic. I could feel my pulse in my cock, throbbing inside her.

She opened her eyes wide, and looked down between her legs. "Wow, I could feel that. At least one part of you really likes to see the girls," she laughed, holding her breasts cupped in her hands, and jiggling them for me.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I told her.

"Right, and now I guess you're going to tell me you love me, just like Kathryn." She said it with a hint of bitterness I didn't understand.

"The difference is back then it was the hormones of a 16 year old talking. You on the other hand, I've loved for three years. And you know it." I said, and only as I spoke the words did I realize to my very soul, just how true it was.

Sheri didn't answer. She leaned forward and rocked back and forth on my hard cock, enjoying the feeling of controlling the penetration, the pace, the timing. She paced herself to my breathing and excitement. When I started to get really excited she'd slow down and hold me, letting me ease back from the edge. When I was strong and ready, she'd ride me hard. She let my hands explore her as she did the work, and I touched her everywhere I could reach, just wallowing in the sensations. I pulled her down within reach, and tasted her nipples, playing with those perfect globes. The feel of her breasts, that impossible soft pale skin under my lips, making way to the crinkled, tougher skin, peaking to a little nub seemingly designed for me to tease and taste.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of sensual, erotic play, she laid down on me, her breasts pressed against my chest, her mouth on my neck, while she slowly rocked her hips, fucking herself gently on my rod.

"Come for me Steve," she said, almost as a command.

I reached down and took her full, soft ass cheeks in my hands, grasping them tight, and I held her up a bit off of me, so I could us my hips to drive in and out of her channel more completely. I was able to get a good long stroke established, and I could feel the cool air brushing against my wet shaft each time I pulled outward.

We had made love for what seemed ages before she issued that first command for me to come. Now she issued another one.

"Tell me again."

I couldn't hold back any longer, and didn't want to. I was fucking the prettiest girl I'd ever known; The first girl that I had really badly wanted; The sweet little virgin that I had fantasized about for so long; Whose pretty face had been the image I'd been picturing as I filled enough old gym socks with cum to fill a stadium.

"I love you, Sheri. I've loved you as long as I've known you." And with that I pulled her down hard on my cock, coming inside my dream girl again, and absorbing the feeling, knowing I was leaving within hours, not knowing when I'd see her again.

"I love you, Steve," she said, I could feel her tears rolling down the side of my face.

I looked up to see the sky lightening with the coming dawn, and thought to myself, "That's another one you've got up on Kathryn."

I disentangled myself from her limbs and kissed her.

"I have to go. Tommy's going to be looking for me any minute." Somehow we had spent the entire night reminiscing, sharing and making love.

It was so difficult, but I tore myself from her arms, tucked her in bed, and kissed her goodnight. "Get a couple of hours of sleep; I'll be able to sleep on the bus." I told her.

She was still wearing the cross I'd given her. She held it now. "Thanks for the Christmas present." She said with a small sad smile.

I kissed her again, and retreated to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. Back in my room, I dressed, and found a present waiting for me on my suitcase. A 8 by 10 picture of Sheri, as beautiful as I'd ever seen her, with a small inscription on the back.

"Merry Christmas. Don't forget about me.

Love, Sheri"

I had just finished putting it away when Tommy knocked on my door, dragging me out to breakfast, and then off to the bus.

The rest of that trip was uneventful; I made it home OK, picked up some presents in Panama, saw some old friends, and made it back to college in one piece.

But I'll always recall that first Christmas away from home, and the greatest Christmas present I ever received.

Not my first erector set, or the 114 piece Lincoln Log tube. Not my first really Cool bicycle, a purple spider bike with banana seat, big handle bars and a three speed shifter on the bar. Not my first electric guitar, a Fender, and amp, which I think my parents had some second thoughts about.

No, Sheri's was the nicest gift I ever received, and probably ever will receive, for Christmas.

"Thanks" just doesn't seem to say enough.

Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts, for Literotica