Rosie - Sex Stories

Rosie

... alone with her, and wanted it to go on and on, if it could. “So…,” she said suddenly, with a tone that indicated seriousness. “I want to know something, Billy. Why don’t you ever talk to me at school?” Then she took a sip of her drink and watched me fidget, her eyes burning into mine over the brim of the cup. “I….uh…..what?” I knew exactly what she meant. I just didn’t have an answer for her. I really had no idea why I never spoke to her. “You …know… what… I…mean, Billy.” The evenly spaced words cut right through my bullshit, leaving no option but to address her question directly. “Tell me, Billy….I want to know.” What could I say? How could I tell her that I had withdrawn from her after that day so long ago because… I liked her? I suddenly started thinking of some excuse to leave, to return to the storm outside where it would be safer. I stared at her legs, her muscular dark legs that were anything but skinny now. Long seconds went by and I heard the ticking of a clock from the living room. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Then she got up and left the room, leaving me alone and totally panic-stricken. I heard her open a door and I assumed that it was time to leave. I heard her yell loudly at me to stay put and she’d be right out, she had to find something. Long seconds ticked away from the increasingly loud clock. I was just about ready to make a break for the front door when she re-appeared in front of me. She stuck out her hand and there was my note, the one I ...

... had written her in third grade all those years ago. The first thing I noticed was the crooked red heart I had drawn on it. “You remember giving me this?” Her voice was gentle now, not prosecutorial. Tender, even. “Yes.” My eyes finally rose and met her eyes. I was surprised to see wetness in them. “That was a terrible thing they did to you back then.” That’s all I could manage to stammer out. “Assholes.” She said. The word sounded strange coming out of her mouth. “Yeah,” I murmured. “There are a lot of assholes.” “You don’t know it, Billy, but I’ve always wanted to find some way to tell you….” And then the first big tears rolled out of her eyes and down her cheek and suddenly I was holding her. I had stood up and put my arms around her and she just folded into me and she cried. “Shhhhh…” I whispered. I put one hand on the back of her head and felt her hair, the kinky curls feeling strange to my touch. Then I kissed her cheek, feeling the wet warmth of her tears on my lips. I kissed her other cheek next, longer this time, and held her a bit tighter, hugging her to me. Through her blouse I felt the hard roundness of her breasts. “Stop that,” I thought to myself. She started really bawling then, huge sobs wracking her small body. What should I do? I knew why she was crying. I had reminded her of the pain of that awful day and the bitter, bigoted hate she had endured. My arms instinctively held her still tighter and she clung just as tightly to me, letting it all out. I couldn’t ...