Kat's blog chain is now posted. This month's topic is "back to school" or "the one that got away." My entry is here, and I'll add a postscript to my story, below.
If you haven't joined in yet, why not join next month's edition? The subject will be "hot sex with the spouse."
Full blog chain details are here.
College Memory Postscript
Inevitably, me and my SCGC girlfriend broke up after graduation. But one of my buddies and one of the SCGC girls stayed together, got married, and are still married (and happily, by all indications.) So I've heard news of her over the years - just the most basic news, that's she's married, has kids, lives a few hours away.
My buddy usually throws at least one big BBQ every summer, and I used to wonder if I'd see her. But she never came, and I stopped thinking about it. Until a few years ago, when to my surprise, I bumped right into her. We were both alone at the moment, and we hugged and caught up for a few minutes, and that was that.
I thought "I have to tell the Sensual Goddess about this!", as she knew about her and had always said she'd be curious to see her. I got delayed by something, and by the time I got back to the main gathering...yep, like something straight out of a sitcom - there the two of them were, sitting next to each other at one table, part of a group of ladies chatting away. There was no more room at that table for me, so I sat down with my friends and tried to make eye contact and let her know that she was sitting right next to my old college girlfriend.
Of course I couldn't get her attention, though I was willing her with all my might to look over at me. But she never did, and when I finally told her later, her reaction was "Why didn't you tell me?!?" When she realized I tried and couldn't, we laughed and laughed. She said it was just general ladies' chit-chat. But we laughed all the way home about the things she could have said if she'd known.
She still laughs about how much she wishes she could have hinted to my old college girlfriend about how much she'd missed.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Kat's blog chain is "back to school" or the one that got away/old flame.
I'll bite on "back to school", as it's something I've been thinking about. I've started doing some college visits with my oldest, and seeing college campuses has brought back a lot of memories - many good, but many bittersweet. I've written before about being terribly shy as a young man, so college for me was not the swinging good party time that it is for some people.
There's also the matter of where I went to school. I went to VPU (Very Prestigious University), and I got a fantastic education that I'm still grateful for - but while I had a small circle of very good friends, it wasn't an especially friendly place.
Many of my high school friends went to ESU (Enormous State University), which they describe in such glowing terms that I picture it as an unspoiled Eden of unicorns wandering freely through a sylvan campus, a nationally-ranked football team, and virtually unlimited beer and pussy. While my ESU buddies regarded their school years as a paradise they hoped would never end (and which they still look back at with longing), I wouldn't go back there in time for all the money in the world.
So...a back-to-school story. It won't be a story of carefree sex with smoking hot co-eds, since I wasn't having any. But here's one that might be good for a laugh.
In my senior year, we went to a party at SCGC (Small Catholic Girls College), and amazingly, a few of us came away with girlfriends. I was *starving* for a girlfriend, and for our group to be spending time with female company was a very welcome change.
In case you're thinking, "yeah baby, those Catholic girls are good to go" - let me put the brakes on right now. Some of them might have been. Most of them might have been. But mine wasn't. Mine completely believed the whole "your soul will spend all eternity in hell if you even think about it."
On one hand, I cursed the fates that had dealt me such an unfair hand. But I did like her, and I did respect her for the courage of her convictions. It was fun to hang out and go to parties and dances, and the makeout sessions that we ended every date with were *infinitely* better than the nothing I was used to.
On the night in question, we were in her dorm room at the end of the evening in a hot-and-heavy makeout session. I was half sitting on the edge of her desk, and she was standing, pressed into me. I've written any number of times about how much I adore the makeout session - slow, deep, neverending kissing. My hand was inside her sweater playing with her beautiful tits, and it was heavenly.
Let me preface the next part by stating emphatically that we were *not* grinding our hips together or dry-humping, or anything like that. It was just bodies pressed close and kissing. I don't think there was anything different about this night - we weren't going further than we had other nights. Her hands *never*, not that night or any other, went below my belt. But for reasons I can't explain, it just felt better. Much better. And then I realized with panic that I was in danger of climaxing. And goddammit if I didn't.
I tried to not move a muscle, or do anything to give away that with no touching, no rubbing, and no grinding - I had just shot a load in my pants.
I was in a panic, and my mind was racing a million miles an hour. I couldn't let her know - she'd either be mortified or angry...or maybe some combination of both. Worse, maybe she'd tell her girlfriends what had happened, and I'd never be able to show my face at SCGC again.
My fears came to naught. I broke the embrace and said I'd better go. We wished each other a good night, and a wave of relief washed over me - she hadn't given any indication that she knew what had happened. Once alone, I looked down at my jeans - thank god, no telltale stain. I ran to the nearest men's room and cleaned up as best I could. Humiliation averted.
Nothing like that ever happened to me before or since - I climaxed from passionate kissing and body closeness and nothing else. Believe it or not.