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Thinking About... S.H.
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Thinking About... S.H. Thinking About... will be when I talk and reminisce about old girlfriends and partners. Names changed and aliases abbreviated to protect the identities of said people, of course. Today, I'll talk a bit about S.H. S.H. used to be a classmate of mine back in middle school. She and her best friend, L.A. used to hang around me and two other friends, and we were our own kinda loser club. We talked cartoons, watched movies together, played Yu-Gi-Oh, and were trying to be counter-culture in a small Texas town. But S.H. liked me, and never really worked up the courage to talk about it, so I found out from L.A. driving all of us back from a movie marathon and a long night of running around. L.A. was riding in the front seat with S.H. and my best friend at the time passed out in the back seat, and L.A. was telling me that S.H. had a<b> crush </font></b>on me, and had for about a year. And that she said she didn't want to give up her<b> crush </font></b>to L.A., but since L.A. was more aggressive about wanting me to be a boyfriend, she would relent and support our relationship... which, for the record, I never was into L.A. that much. But I just did what I usually do, nod my head, act cool and aloof. Fast forward ten years later to Dallas, where I come to find out through my previously mentioned friend that S.H. has been in prison due to attacking someone over threatening her husband and . S.H. wasn't ever the ill-tempered one, more that she was the kind to get flustered and shy. So this was kind of a shocker to me, as much as finding out she had a family. Because of some bad choices, hanging around bad influences, she had made some poor decisions and was essentially estranged in a half-way house, separated from her and their father. My friend had a huge<b> crush </font></b>on S.H., and wanted me to deliver her a letter since apparently his weren't being responded to; since S.H. liked me, he thought that maybe she'd reply to me and he'd get to make sure if he was being ignored or not. Eventually I do make arrangements to meet up with S.H. again. She looked the same as always, wispy red hair, freckles, glasses. Skinnier though. Same sort of reserved posture and everything. But she was happy to see me. Hugged me, talked excitedly to me as I took her to breakfast, and talked about her problems. Her decisions. Her . How horrible the halfway house was, and how it wasn't helping anyone, just giving a means for women to bully women, and men to bully men, as they were segregated by gender. After about two hours of driving around, talking, hanging out, S.H. asks if we can go to my apartment and play some games, since it's been years since she last played anything and it'd be nice to go back to the good old days for just a minute. Asked if I had talked to L.A., if we had dated at all, if I was taken, etc. We go back to my apartment, we start playing a Mario game on the Wii U. We're having some fun, laughing about it. While picking a stage, S.H. says, "You know, D., it's taking everything I've got not to jump on you right now." I figured, since we were playing Mario, and I'm not exactly thinking about the circumstances of the situation, I go "Don't do that, I'll fall off the stage and die probably." And then she grabs my arm, and turns me to look at her. "No, I mean... like this." And she kisses me. She whispers into my mouth, "It's been way too long since I've had any kind of private time with a man... Please..." I'm kind of a sucker for trying to make people happy. I didn't necessarily like the idea of getting in on my friend's<b> crush. </font></b>S.H. walked with me to my bedroom, and started to disrobe, telling me not to look because she was kind of shy. So I turn around, start taking off my clothes, and say "I hope you don't mind micro-penises." I like to joke a lot, even during the dirty. She starts laughing, and then gets an eyeful of me. S.H. wasn't kidding. She was so tight I could barely fit in the first half of my dick. And it would stay that way for the entire duration of our intimacy. She came at least three times, clinging her tiny frame against mine, shuddering. I couldn't get off once, but it didn't bother me that much. It seemed to bother her more than it did me, but she was way more sensitive than I guess she thought she'd be, and I've got a problem with a dead nerve. After that, we went back to the meet-up point a handful of blocks away from the halfway house, for her to head back to her parole officer to check in. She kissed me, and I never saw her again after that. She still logs into facebook every now and then, about once every two months, but she hasn't sent any messages, even though I ask every now and then for her to check in to let me and our friend know she's doing well. |
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