1. My First Time


    Date: 8/27/2015, Categories: First Time, Author: ChuckEPoo, Rating: 35, Source: LushStories

    grand-kids, impatiently said, "Give the boy a break so we can get our orders!" "Billy, get up! You're embarrassing me... Okay, four cones and we're even, but you've gotta help me clear this line." I picked an apron off the hook and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek. The customers applauded as I went over behind the counter and said, "Okay, who's next in line?" It was about fifteen minutes later when I came out of the shop with one of those cardboard carry-alls and four cones. They were all sitting at an umbrella table, talking. The two girls were sitting together across from Tom. I pulled up a chair opposite Chrissy. "Okay, who's got the rocky-road on waffle? I added some sprinkles and a cherry." "Why, thank you, kind sir," Chrissy grinned. Her blue eyes were enchanting, as she reached out, taking her cone. I was transfixed by her lovely face. She had to have the most kissable mouth and prettiest smile I had ever seen. As she bent forward to retrieve her cone, those magnificent breasts naturally jiggled in their yellow confinement. I don't know if there is such a thing as love at first sight, but that moment was etched in my mind forever. "Earth to Billy! There are some other hungry people here too," Jan exclaimed. I just pushed the tray forward, never breaking eye contact with my blond goddess. We talked and laughed for hours, until the sun was getting low in the west. I discovered that Chrissy and Jan went to a private high school, whereas Tom and I went to the ...
    local public high school. Chrissy's dad was some big-wig at Proctor and Gamble, and they lived in a gated community at the beach. I, of course, asked her out. She didn't say no, but she said her dad would not let her go on unsupervised dates until she was seventeen and that was in two weeks. Unsupervised dates? What the hell does that mean? Anyway, I offered them a ride home, but Chrissy said they had their own car. We walked them down the winding pathway to the parking lot, while holding hands. There were just a few cars left in the lot. Chrissy pointed at one, saying, "That's mine." Her car was a brand new Mustang convertible, still with dealer tags. It was a bright candy-apple red, with black pony leather upholstery. Coincidentally, it was parked right next to mine, which was also a Mustang. However, mine was a '65, which meant it was a rust bucket, painted metallic blue and primer gray, with the front bumper missing and the passenger door wired shut. “And this is mine, such as it is. It's more like a classic,” I replied, putting my board on the roof-rack and strapping it down. Tom followed suit. Standing in front of Chrissy's car, we all talked, but Tom and Jan wasted no time getting into a lip-lock. "Nice ride," I said to Chrissy, finding it hard to not notice my friend making out a few feet away. I was wanting to kiss her more than I ever wanted to kiss someone in my life. "Yeah, my dad bought it for me when I received my scholarship to Stanford. I see you've got a Mustang ...
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