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Growing up, there were friends that you saw only in the summer, and then when school started you didn’t see them, because you were involved with school buddies. Those summers seemed timeless and left plenty of room to wonder and dream of life beyond childhood. As I got older, I was sad that summer friends became faces, people, times that were gone. High school ties now were formed, and those ties would later serve a love hate relationship. But youthful summer moments would always hold a special place.
I had a couple of close friends in the neighborhood, but one friend in particular, J.P., was close to my age and had an adventurous streak that I was drawn to. We usually ended up getting in trouble. Many times we had to flee certain situations, not knowing exactly why we were running, but knowing that surely the blame would always turn to J.P. His house, although on a corner, was always the center of activity. His parents came home from work at regular hours, but the time in between seemed plentiful enough to get stuff done, or to get nothing done. He had three sisters, and each one looked different than the other. One would never be able to tell these girls were sisters. Patty, the oldest, was short and solidly built. Her hair was black. She should have been a gymnast. Her dark eyes always knew what we were up to. She seemed to know exactly what our next moves were. Julia, the middle girl, was tall and slender and had very sharp curves. Her legs were always tanned and perfectly smooth. She had blonde hair. When she looked at you with her green eyes, it seemed she was challenging you to impress her. I don’t think I ever did impress her. Looking back on her, I think she was bored with the people that filler her world at that time. Callie was the other sister. She seemed to be a mixture of the other two, but yet totally different. She was about 5’5″ tall, and had soft curves. Her breasts were very friendly when I was around them. I liked seeing them in different outfits. Some showed them larger and firmer than others, and some made them seem more secretive. The day I finally saw them in a bathing suit, I realized she was very soft indeed and her boobs, which I thought were large, actually seemed smaller and somewhat pendulous. I was always entranced by her slow lazy ways. She did everything slowly, and was an expert at lounging around. She seemed more sensitive than the other two. She was three years older than me.
Freshman year of high school was the first summer I spent mostly outside of the neighborhood. I actually avoided going by J.P.’S corner house, knowing that I had to let life change for me, that summer had to end sometime. The following year got easier and by senior year I felt like a stranger in the neighborhood. J.P. was doing his own thing also, but he seemed to still like staying close to home. The two oldest sisters, Patty and Julia, had move out and Callie was away at college.
I went away to college too. Things seemed strange there. People seemed to have unheard of agendas, and they seemed to gather energy from some unseen place. I thought back on all the people I knew, to try and figure them out, and undoubtedly I found comfort in J.P. and his sisters. His three sisters, from the same home, yet so different, helped me to accept my surroundings. The fact that I never figured out J.P’S motivations also helped. I was able to relax and let these new experiences flow more naturally.
On winter break, I wanted to, in some way, thank J.P. for helping me through a very difficult time. I stopped by his house. Things seemed so different. The furniture I remembered had been replaced. Walls were painted in updated colors. The father had divorced the mother and had moved out west. J.P. was gong to a local college. He did not seem moved by my visit. We shook hands, and although I was genuinely happy to see him, he seemed a bit distant. He talked about how he was now playing guitar in a garage band and was not thinking much of school. He invited me to a party that night. An old friend of his from the neighborhood was going into the army and his friends and family were sending him off. Although, not really in the mood for a party, I told him I would be there. As I was leaving, I saw Callie at the other end of the house. She seemed occupied with something. She was wearing the sexiest boots I could have imagined. Knee high, black leather boots. Her skirt met the boots. I wanted to linger on them, on her. I wanted to stop, to go back in and say hello to her, but the tone of my reunion with J.P. signaled it was time to leave. I felt J.P. unknowingly swept me out of his house before I could speak with Callie.
I went home, and tried to think if I had ever been attracted to anyone wearing knee high boots before. I thought of a teacher at school who had a dominant personality that was accentuated by her boots. I thought of a time in high school when I sat next to a girl with long legs who seemed to have every type of footwear. Her legs were particularly sexy sheathed in leather. I wondered if, at nineteen antalya escort years of age, I was developing some sort of fetish.
I drifted into the party and was greeted with a few sincere hellos and with a few blank stares. I immediately focused on J.P. He was holding a bottle of beer and was keeping pace with the music playing.
“You made it.” He said. “I figured, well… it’s still early. Might get exciting later. Sometimes it’s a good idea to leave these parties midstream and then come back later when every one is wasted. Easy pickings with the girls.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “Sounds … a good idea.”
Ever since I left his house, I had been thinking about Callie. She was 22 now and very much a woman. I could not get the image of those boots out of my head. They made her seem so sure of herself.
“Is Callie coming?” I asked.
“No.” He said. “She outgrew the neighborhood and everyone in it a long time ago. She’s having some issues with her boyfriend. She wasn’t even coming down for break.”
A girl dressed in silly colors came up to us and started to blow a whistle. She looked semi drunk and in need of attention. We just ignored her. The guest of honor was seated on a leather sofa, surrounded by a couple of girls, and drinking his share very quickly. He seemed bored with them and with the party. I only remember having a few conversations with him. I remembered that he had been a good athlete.
J.P. introduced me to a member of his band: A very anxious looking guy that had to be in his mid-twenties. He talked about the lack of drugs at the party. He wanted to leave this party for another one across town. We lingered a few minutes. I looked at my cell phone, to see if it held a reason to leave. I never really grasped the party scene very much, and I think that J.P. sensed that. I found this homecoming to be tiresome but could not pull myself away. There was nothing that I was missing, nothing to force me to leave. We lingered another hour or so, slowly drinking beer and inhaling any strange smells that drifted up from the basement.
“Let’s get out for a while.” He said. You can come back with me later if you want.
“Sure.” I agreed.
“This party needs to develop more. Needs a few more people stumbling across the room. Let’s get out of here.” He motioned for the door.
We both had walked there. As we strolled through the old neighborhood, it felt strange. We both were different persons since last walking our city streets together. We stopped by a hamburger restaurant that I had been craving for a long time. The counter, and the rest of the place, was unchanged. The fixtures and pictures on the walls were the same. I was starting to drift from the night, feeling that saying goodbye after our meal would be the only thing left to do.
As I was about to wish him well, he invited me to his house. He said his mother was not home, and that his sister, Callie, was probably on the phone trying to make her boyfriend see things her way. We would have the place to ourselves. There was liquor and there was even some weed. I was about to decline his offer, when the thought of seeing Callie again, gave my insides a weird charge.
“That’s cool. I don’t have anything better to do.” I said.
“That’s good to hear.” He laughed.
We walked into his house. I sat down and watched him arrange some drinks. I was definitely feeling nostalgic this night. I have always tried to move forward, and sometimes have left certain people or feelings behind. I was starting to convince myself that I needed to reconnect with J.P., and that we had unresolved issues to address. As I tried to look mature, sipping on some bourbon, in walked Callie. She was bundled up from a not so cold night. She gave me a very knowing look, tinged with some anger. I felt that my youthful betrayal of the corner house needed some explaining, some redemption.
I stood to hug her. She let me hug her, but did not move her arms or return the affection.
“Callie… I don’t know what to say.” I said.
“Start with hello.” She said.
“I just feel… hello. It’s been so long.” I stammered. “I meant to come by last summer, but… things… I don’t know.”
“So what school are you at?” She said, keeping it formal.
J.P. brought her a glass with some wine in it. She sat down after taking off her winter coat. She was wearing a long skirt, but the bottom of her boots peeked out. I was excited and instantly loosened up.
“Northern.” I said. “Undeclared… thinking of maybe Psychology. I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t sound like you, but then again, I missed… didn’t see you while you went through high school.” She said.
Her brown eyes seemed more powerful than I remembered them. Had she acquired so much experience in my absence? Had she seen things that change perspectives? Had she sighted something that had engulfed them with a preternatural energy? I let her go ahead and be the adult, while I reverted lara escort to the role of her brother’s best friend.
“So… How are your parents?” She asked. “I see them from time to time, but only exchange hellos.”
“They are good.” I said. “They’ve mentioned leaving the old neighborhood, but I doubt they will?
“I can understand that.” She said, glancing over to J.P, who was busying himself looking through a box that surely held something to be smoked.
When she crossed her legs I got an exciting look at one of her boots. The black boot fitted snuggly on her right calf, zippered up to the edge of her knee. I think I glanced a little too long, because when I made contact with her eyes again, it was as though she opened a door, inviting me in. I wanted to ruminate on the power that woman have, on how I was catching her at some opportunistic moment, but knew that such time spent would most likely throw things of course. I entered in to the space she was providing, and was furthered dominated by her. I was now her brother’s friend that would, could be used by a woman who might have certain needs on this night: A winter night with snowflakes beginning to speckle the nighttime canvas.
“J.P. is thinking of quitting school. He wants to play guitar in some incompetent band. Although, I won’t denigrate his playing, practice has certainly made him into a fine guitarist.” She said.
“J.P. has to start somewhere. So what if we suck, someone will hear me and come calling.” J.P. said.
I nodded in agreement.
J.P. was now rolling a joint. Callie had a look of nothing having changed. It looked normal to see her brother rolling a joint in the family living room. I myself had only indulged a few times, but the prospect of sharing a joint with a childhood crush was very appealing. I wanted him to hurry and share it with us.
“How are Patty and Julia?” I asked.
“Married. Working. Busy. What else.” Callie said.
“Wow. Seems kind of sudden.” I said.
“Well, I think you know how I feel about you not coming by… time moves very fast. Let’s just let you off the hook for tonight.”
Callie slowly unzipped her boots. I felt she was doing this for my benefit. She removed her boots and gently placed them to the side with the openings facing me. I tried to reach deep and breath in some of her odor without her noticing. Of course, she noticed.
J.P. lit a joint up and inhaled very vigorously. He passed it first to his sister, who paused before taking it. She took a sharp drag then passed it to me. I could feel the moistness on the paper, and knew it held both their saliva. I looked at her and took a weak hit. I handed it back to J.P. and then stood up and walked around the living room, looking at their pictures. The sisters all looked beautiful. I was sure I missed out on at least one sexual experience with one of the sisters. When I tried to think which one it was, which one was closest to my age, I turned to Callie, who gave me a look as though she were reading my mind. I think J.P. also sensed there was something unfinished, something missing.
“I’m going back to the party. You coming, or are you headed home?” J.P. said. “I don’t think you’ve gotten your second wind yet.”
“Go ahead and take off, let Ben finish his drink. I’ll see he gets away O.K.”
“Fine with me.” J.P. said. “Ben, you better come and see me this summer. I want you to hear my band.”
“I will.” I said.
“I don’t think he will. He should.” Callie said.
“I have to go.” He said.
J.P. left through the back.
Callie went into he kitchen for more wine, as she did, I got on my knees to get a whiff off her boots. I could smell the accumulation of her sweat and foot odor commingled with the smell of the leather. I breathed deeply and felt very satisfied. If the night had ended right there, I could have gone home a happy man, but Callie had other plans for me. I no longer felt as though I were a face, a ghost, something fleeting from days gone by. I returned to my seat when she seemed ready to come back into the room. I was sure she saw me glide back into the chair.
“Did you want another drink?” She asked.
Callie looked down at her boots, as if to make sure they were there.
“I still have some.” I said.
We spent the next few minutes talking about how being away at college offered so much freedom, but at the same time made you look to home to try and find your way. I told her about my one sexual conquest: A skinny girl from New Hampshire that I met at a party. I told Callie that Tess was very nice, but that she had nothing on girls from Michigan. Callie spoke about her musician boyfriend. He had long hair and a couple of interesting tattoos that depicted scenes from his favorite slasher movie. She spoke of moving on to someone, something less intense.
“Why so much interest in my boots?” She asked.
I felt caught, but sensed her tone was one of complicity.
“I don’t know. They make you side escort seem so mature. Very in control.” I said, trying to seem n control myself. “I have been away so long… seeing you in a new way, I guess.”
“You prefer Michigan girls?” She said, as she took a sip of her wine.
“Of course.” I said. “Especially if they are wearing boots.”
“Well… let’s see what we can do about that.”
Callie started to put her boots back on. I just watched as she took her time zipping them up. Her skirt covered her boots now, but that skirt was coming off one way or another. She walked over to me. I stood up and met her in the middle of the room. She offered me her glass of wine, and I drank from it. I tried to show strength. Her eyes were so overpowering.
“I think tonight can take care of a few things for me.” She said. “I need to get back at my boyfriend for a whole lists of things, which includes just looking at other girls. And, let’s just call this unfinished business between us. I thought we would have interacted long ago.”
“I’m here for all that, Callie.” I said.
With her heels on, I did not have to bend down very much to kiss her. She tasted of wine and sophistication. She moved my lips around for me and arranged them how she wanted. We moved over to the sofa and shared our breathing. I wanted to touch her breasts, but was afraid to move too quickly. My eyes were expectant, my hands very cautious. Her sweater was too bulky to feel their shape, but I found a hardening nipple. I slowly pulled off her sweater. She was wearing a black bra that held them in place rather high. I looked at her for approval before I removed her bra. Her eyes gave me permission, and now I cupped her breasts. They were soft and jiggly, hanging lower than I had expected. The nipples were a light shade of brown and protruded very proudly. She laid her head back on the sofa as I nibbled and adored them. I had images of her running around the neighborhood, of her sunbathing, of her teasing me with a braless shirt so long ago. I held them now, and the wait was so worth it.
My natural instinct to seek out her pussy was slow to come. I knew that this moment, this experience of going back in time, was a once in a lifetime event. I lingered maybe too long on her tits, but I had to. She led me downward. The elastic banding on her skirt could not resist a swift maneuver by her. The skirt was off her body so quickly that my heart actually jumped. There she sat now, in black panties with experienced frills, and her knee high boots. I bent down to kiss her belly. Her soft belly was so white and so warm. My hand traced around and in. I could feel a nicely trimmed patch of hair. I started to pull off her panties and kept my eye on her pussy as I awkwardly removed her panties over her boots. Her private area was manicured and awaiting me.
“Leave the boots on.” I said.
“Be quiet.” She whispered.
I stood up and took off my shirt. I felt a certain pride in being somewhat in shape. I unbuckled my pants as though something special was inside. She just looked at me and gave me an approving smile. This seemed as though I were losing my virginity all over again. I was very hard and in need of a target. Callie opened her legs and allowed me in. I joined her as one on the sofa. She was actually tighter than I imagined. My efforts at being a stud must have seemed fake to her, but I was earnestly pumping her with a desire to please her, to receive the approval of a girl I had lusted over throughout the early part of my life. The feel of her boots on my skin added an almost forbidden feeling. Her dominance allowed me to move on in and on. My hands moved all over her body, feeling how her skin varied from one spot to another.
When she started to giggle a little bit, I was afraid I was going to lose my erection, but looking at her face, her features, made me realize she was laughing with joy. Her face seemed to change right before me. The inviting girl of earlier changed into a woman. Her eyes were full of blaze. My thrusts were harder and had purpose. I came to a large gasp and yelled her name out as if in victory. My heavy breathing was very noticeable. I realized later that I did not satisfy her, but was sure that the fact I had an orgasm with her, for her, was all she needed. I needed to feel like I satisfied her in some way.
We spent a few moments talking, cuddling. My hand moving on her legs, alternating between skin and leather, as if the boots were a permanent accessory. She scolded me as I was leaving, telling me that she knew I was not going to come by again. I promised her that I would.
“I don’t know when I will see you again, but I am sure it is going to be some uncomfortable moment. Act as though you loved me once. Act appropriately. For me.” she said.
“Always.” I said, as I left.
I have thought back on that night many times, and the feelings that I had throughout my first time back home, and I don’t feel joy in thinking about J.P., or of the party, or of walking the streets, or of the dreary snowy night, but my time with Callie needed placement with those long lost summer days. Timeless. A powerful memory to be called on whenever my mood needed an inspiration, or when feeling sentimental was comforting
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