Same deal with Stacey I think. She was fair, fair skinned. Like ivory white. Her flaming dark red hair was gorgeous. She could do shampoo commercials. She was maybe an inch taller than me. We were pretty much the same size though. She had these amazing gray-green eyes, fairly big boobs too and she was even more fit than me. Girlie was toned and tight. So, yup, boys liked her too. She went on a few dates and she broke a few hearts. But that was pretty much the end of it. Other than that, like I said, she was a transfer. She kept to herself mostly. I felt bad for her. It was a small school and most of us had grown up together. It was hard to make friends.
So how did it start? Well, it started out real slow. We sort of seduced each other.
Stacey and I talked more and more before and after practices. Then we began saving each other a seat on the team bus. In the beginning of the season, when I was playing a lot more than she was, and I was really exhausted after this one game, she offered to rub my shoulders. Her hands were warm and soft. They felt soooo good. Then she was doing it after games without me asking. If it was a long ride home, she’d let me fall asleep on her shoulder too. I loved the smell of her hair. She only used the best shampoos. But underneath the shampoo smell, always there, were the strawberries.
By the middle of the season, Stacey got bumped up to first string too. She was a great sweeper so she was running even more than me. On the bus rides home, we’d both be tired. We’d rub each others shoulders. We both slept. It was getting later in the fall, colder, so Stacey and I would press together tightly on the little bus seat. I started throwing a leg over hers for more contact. More warmth. More closeness.
It got to the point where I hated home games. No bus ride meant no excuse to be that close to Stacey. It wasn’t enough to just see each other in the hall at school.
So we started going out together on weekends. Just the two of us. Shopping, movies, the usual stuff. We hung out at my house too. We played video games or watched TV.
We talked about everything. Sometimes we’d talk about boys. Stacey had weird tastes. She liked the freaky ones. The more tattoos and piercings the better. She said that one of the sexiest things she’d ever done was suck on the pierced nipple of this random hot guy she’d met at a concert.
I told her I liked clean cut guys. Sweet preppy boys who wore loafers and worried about which college they would go to. She called me a dork-lover.
The conversations eventually got to sex. What we’d done. What we hadn’t done. What we’d wished we’d done. What we’d wished we hadn’t done.
Fumbling Doug Ferguson fell in that last category for me. He had been a couple of years ahead of me in school. When he came back from college I thought he was so mature. We ended up in his parent’s basement after a party. Just kissing and dry humping to start. Then I let him push up my skirt. When he started kissing up my legs it felt nice. Then he pulled my panties aside and ate me to my first oral orgasm and it felt really nice. Much better than fingers.